by Erika Wilde
She was probably just stressed from her situation with her stepmother and exhausted from her lack of sleep the night before with Hunter. She let her eyes drift closed and told herself she just needed a nap and she’d be fine . . .
Chapter 14
Hunter wasn’t sure why Elle wasn’t answering the calls and texts he’d sent over the past two hours, but the fact that he couldn’t get ahold of her and she didn’t respond to his last message stating he was coming to the office to check on her if she didn’t reply in some way spiked a concern in him he acted on.
Despite her believing that she had no time for a relationship, he didn’t believe that she’d ignore every attempt he made to contact her. He just wanted to make sure that she was doing okay after not feeling well the previous day, and he didn’t hesitate to follow through on his final text and drive to her workplace.
It was later in the afternoon, and her car was one of the few in the parking lot, which told Hunter she was still there. The door to her building was unlocked, but as he walked inside, the place was completely quiet.
“Elle?” he called out, bypassing the empty reception area as he started glancing into the various partitioned rooms for her. Since he’d never been to her place of business before, it was a process of elimination to find her, and he finally did in one of the back offices.
As soon as he saw her slumped over her desk, panic shot adrenaline through his veins and he rushed over to her, his heart beating erratically in his chest. Logically, he knew she was probably just taking a nap, but until he saw for himself that nothing was wrong, he couldn’t stop the protective feelings overwhelming him.
“Elle.” His voice was a soft murmur as he placed a hand on her shoulder, giving it an easy shake to gently wake her up.
She stirred, then groaned as she slowly lifted her head from where it had been resting on her arms. Through squinted eyes, she glanced around, seemingly disoriented as she turned her head to find him standing by her side. A frown marred her brow, and he couldn’t help but notice that her normally rosy complexion was pale.
She licked her dry, ashen lips as she tried to sit up and lean back in her chair, which seemed to take effort. “What are you doing here?” she asked in a raspy, confused tone of voice.
He tenderly brushed strands of blonde hair away from her face. “I’ve been trying to call and text for the past few hours, and when you didn’t answer, I wanted to see for myself that everything was okay.”
“I think I forgot to take my phone off silent mode when I got to work.” She pressed a hand to her forehead and made a show of swallowing. “God, my throat is so dry and scratchy,” she said, reaching for the cup of tea on her desk, which had probably cooled while she slept, and drinking the last of it.
She groaned again and pressed a hand to her midsection. “My stomach is so queasy, and my head is pounding . . . and now I’m feeling a little dizzy.”
Her symptoms added up to the obvious. “Sweetheart, I think you have the flu.”
“I think I do, too,” she admitted reluctantly as she looked up at him with miserable eyes. “I have so much to do at the office and I don’t have time to get sick.”
“Yeah, well, you’ve probably worn down your immune system, and your body is trying to tell you to slow down and take care of yourself for a change. Why don’t you shut off your computer and I’ll take you home?”
He expected an argument from this independent woman, but as she closed out the program she’d been working on and then turned off the computer, she shocked him with her acquiescence. “Thank you. I really appreciate it. I’m really not feeling well and I don’t think I can drive like this. I just want to go home and crawl into bed and sleep.”
Her reply said a lot about how horrible her symptoms were, and he gave her a reassuring smile. “That’s the plan, sweetheart.”
After grabbing her purse from a desk drawer, she stood up and swayed uneasily on her feet. Hunter quickly put an arm around her back and pulled her to his side to steady her.
“Can you walk out of here okay?” he asked, unable to keep the concern from edging into his voice. “Because I can carry you to the car if you don’t think you can make it that far.”
She managed to roll her eyes at him. “I’m just a little light-headed, not an invalid, and you’re not carrying me anywhere.”
But as he guided her out of the office, she leaned into him, her steps faltering. He couldn’t help but think how vulnerable she looked and how weak she felt against him as he helped her lock up the building, then put her into the passenger seat of his vehicle and secured her seat belt.
She gave him her home address, which he put into the GPS system, and while he drove to her place as quickly as the speed limits allowed, she curled her body toward the car door, pressed her cheek against the cool window, and wrapped her arms around her stomach. She closed her eyes, but the pained look on her face and the occasional moan that slipped past her lips told him how uncomfortable she was.
When they arrived at her house in a pricey neighborhood just outside the New York City limits, she dug into her purse and handed him the keys to unlock the front door, and he escorted her inside. The first thing he noticed was how lavishly decorated everything was, like the place had been newly renovated and furnished.
“Is anyone home?” he asked since the place was so quiet.
“No. Helena, Claire, and Gwen went shopping. I have no idea when they’ll be back.”
Perfect. The last thing he wanted was to deal with any of those three women. “Where is your room?” he asked.
“That way,” she said, pointing toward the right when he’d expected to have to help her up the sweeping staircase in the foyer to the second level.
Still using him for balance, she led the way through a spacious living room, then a modernized kitchen, to a small bedroom in the back that had a connecting bathroom, though the décor and furnishings were far more minimal than the rest of the house. He sat her down on the queen-sized bed that took up most of the space, then glanced around, frowning as he realized what this room had originally been intended for.
“Jesus, is this the maid’s quarters?” he asked incredulously.
A wry smile tipped up one corner of her mouth. “Actually, yes, it is.”
He stared at her, dumbfounded. “I don’t understand. This house is huge and there are only four of you living here and you’re in this cramped little room? How many bedrooms are there upstairs?”
“Four very large ones,” she said, and seemingly knowing what he was about to ask next, she held up a hand and explained. “When my father passed away, Helena decided to build herself an enormous custom closet out of one of the rooms, which happened to be my room at the time since it was right next to the master bedroom. So, I got relocated.”
“That’s fucking bullshit,” he said, doing his best to keep a lid on the fury that wanted to explode out of him for the despicable way Helena treated her. Instead, he focused on getting Elle as comfortable as possible.
“Where do you keep your nightgown or something that you can sleep in?” he asked.
“You’ve done enough, Hunter,” she said, suddenly sounding tired and weary as she lay back on her bed, fully clothed. “You can go now. I’ll be fine.”
“I’m not going anywhere tonight,” he said adamantly. Spotting a tall, plain white dresser up against the wall on the other side of the bed with a small TV on top, he headed in that direction.
“Hunter . . . I don’t want to get you sick, too.”
“It’s a chance I’m willing to take.” He opened the top drawer, and finding it filled with her panties and bras, he went one lower and saw what looked like various pajamas. He grabbed a soft, cotton sleep shirt and returned to her side of the bed. “I’m not leaving you alone.”
“You’re a stubborn one, Mr. Wilder,” she said, her voice growing faint.
She was a fine one to talk, considering how headstrong she was. “The sooner you come to terms with that, the
better.”
“Fine,” she muttered, her eyes closed. “I’m too exhausted, weak, and in too much pain to argue.”
He didn’t like the fact that she was in so much pain from the flu but he pushed his concern away for now. He was just grateful to have her cooperation. “Just let me take care of you, okay?”
Her lashes fluttered back open, and she met his gaze. “I’m not used to anyone taking care of me,” she said softly.
His chest grew tight with a dozen different emotions, and he reached out and gently feathered his fingers along her warm cheek. “I suggest you get used to it because I’m not going anywhere anytime soon. Now, can you sit up so I can get you out of your clothes and into this shirt to sleep in?”
She nodded, and with her help, he managed to strip off the dress she’d worn to the office and removed her bra. Then he quickly and as gently as possible pulled the T-shirt over her head and arranged it down to her thighs. He took off her sandals, and by the time he settled her back beneath the covers, she curled up on her side and was clutching her stomach again, moaning as a wave of pain seemed to wash over her.
“Maybe I should take you to urgent care,” Hunter suggested, unable to stop the worry growing inside of him.
“I’m not going to urgent care,” she insisted in a faint voice as she buried her face in her pillow. “They can’t do anything for the flu once you have it and all this will eventually pass. I just need to sleep off the worst of it.”
It went against Hunter’s better judgment not to rush her off to a doctor, but he had to trust that Elle knew her body best. However, he decided if these extreme symptoms continued, he’d be taking over. When she finally settled and fell asleep and didn’t look as though she was in excruciating agony, he breathed a sigh of relief and allowed himself to relax.
While Elle slept, Hunter propped the extra pillows against the headboard on the other side of the bed and sat next to her. He retrieved his phone, checked for any important emails and messages, and finding none, he downloaded the latest bestselling thriller from one of his favorite authors to read while keeping an eye on Elle.
A few hours passed, with Elle occasionally shifting beneath the covers or making inarticulate noises, but for the most part, she slept without any major incidents. At about eight that evening, she woke up and glanced over at him, and he set his phone and the book he was reading aside to give her his attention. He searched her face for signs of discomfort and was grateful to find nothing like she’d been experiencing earlier.
“Hey,” he said, smiling at her. “Feeling any better?”
She thought for a moment, seemingly getting her bearings, and swallowed hard. “A little?” she said, her voice sounding dry. “I’m so thirsty. Maybe I’ll get up and make myself a cup of tea. I think that’s about all I can handle.”
“You definitely need to stay hydrated, and you’re staying put,” he ordered as he slid off the bed and came around to her side. “I’ll go see what I can do.”
She gingerly rolled to her back, looking up at him. “I’m not sure you’ll figure out the whole tea thing, so you can bring me water if that’s easier.”
He grinned at her. “Did you just issue me a challenge?” he teased, and felt his heart swell in his chest when an amused smile curved her lips, which was hopefully a start to her feeling better. At this point, he’d give her the moon and the stars if she asked for them.
“It’s just a complicated process for someone who’s never done it before,” she explained. “But if you want to give it a try, the tea leaves are in the pretty painted jar on the counter. The ball strainer that you put the leaves in is in the drawer right in front of that. You add boiling water from the instant hot water dispenser and let the tea steep for about three minutes. Then, you add a teaspoon of sugar from a jar in the cupboard, and you’re done.”
“So simple,” he lied, having no clue what all that meant, but was willing to see what he could do. He leaned down and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
Since he’d taken his shoes off earlier, he padded barefoot into the kitchen, surprised to find Helena in there, too, as she peered into the refrigerator, her back to him. A few hours ago, he’d heard her and the girls arrive home, their loud chatter and laughter grating on his nerves when Elle was so sick in bed. Considering he’d driven Elle home from the office and he’d parked at the curb and Helena had no idea it was his car, the other woman probably thought Elle was still at work.
Out of pure spite, because this woman had made Elle’s life a living hell, Hunter remained still and quiet until Helena closed the refrigerator door and realized a man was standing a few feet away from her. His unexpected presence startled her so badly she gasped and nearly dropped the chilled bottle of wine she held in her hand. After a few seconds of staring at him, recognition of who he was finally dawned across her heavily Botoxed features. No formal introduction was necessary since Helena had seen him with Elle the night of the fairy-tale ball.
“Helena,” he said in greeting, his tone cool because, as far as he was concerned, this woman didn’t deserve an ounce of warmth.
Her gaze narrowed on him as she tentatively set the wine on the counter. “What are you doing here?”
“I brought Elle home from work this afternoon because she was coming down with the flu,” he said.
A wary, cautious look passed through her eyes. “That was very kind of you, but why are you still here?”
He shrugged casually, even though he was feeling anything but nonchalant around Helena. “Because Elle needs someone she can depend on to take care of her.” It was a small dig, and enough to let this woman know that he was now a part of Elle’s life—even if Elle wasn’t ready to accept that fact just yet. But she would, eventually.
“If it’s the flu, there’s not much anyone can do,” she said, her voice vibrating with annoyance. “Now that I’m here, you can go home and I’ll check in on her.”
Not a fucking chance, lady. “No, I’m staying. I won’t be a bother, really. I just came out to make her a cup of hot tea.”
Helena reached into the cupboard and pulled down a coffee mug. “I’ll make it for her,” she insisted.
“No, I’ll do it,” he said just as adamantly, already seeing the jar that Elle had described that held the loose tea leaves. But beyond that, he couldn’t remember what she’d told him to do. Fuck.
“Do you know how to make hot tea from loose leaves and a ball strainer?” she asked, clearly realizing that he had no goddamn clue. “I didn’t think so. Watch what I do and then you’ll know for next time.”
He begrudgingly let Helena handle the process, though he kept a close eye on her every move. He just didn’t trust this woman. Hunter knew the suspicion he was experiencing toward Helena at the moment was ridiculous, but he couldn’t help what he felt.
When she finally had a generous amount of tea leaves steeping in boiling water, she turned toward him, her mouth pinched with a noticeable amount of irritation. “So, are you the one putting ideas into Elle’s head about selling the house?” she asked him point-blank.
He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned a hip against the counter, refusing to confirm or deny her accusation. “What makes you ask that?”
“Because it wasn’t an issue until she started spending time with you,” she said, displeasure permeating her voice. “Now, all of a sudden she has all these wild ideas about selling the house and buying my half of the business, when things have been just fine as they are.”
Hunter shrugged, though he found Helena’s account of the situation interesting and completely skewed. “You’re not her blood relation, you treat her like shit, so why wouldn’t you want to go your separate ways?” he asked blatantly.
Helena’s spine stiffened and anger flashed in her eyes. “You have no idea how I treat Elle,” she replied defensively. “If she’s been filling your head with lies—"
“She didn’t need to tell me anything. I saw for myself how
badly you treated her,” he said, his own tone filled with equal animosity as he cut the older woman off before she could twist the blame around to Elle. “Obviously you didn’t realize at the fairy-tale ball that I was standing right behind the column near the entrance where you and your daughters were watching and waiting for security to turn away Elle. I heard your entire rude conversation, including how you’d deliberately left her name off the RSVP card and how fucking happy and satisfied you were when security told her to leave. So, yeah, I have a pretty good idea how you feel about Elle.”
By the time he was done with his tirade, Helena’s eyes were wide and her complexion was a humiliated shade of red, and Hunter was fucking glad that he’d called her out on her shit. The other woman said nothing more, probably because she realized she would not win any kind of argument with Hunter.
“I think I can handle Elle’s tea from here,” he said, gently but firmly pushing her out of the way so he could remove the ball strainer, then added a teaspoonful of sugar. Then, without another word to Helena, he picked up the cup of tea and returned to Elle’s bedroom, closing the door firmly behind him.
Elle’s eyes were closed, but as soon as she heard him come back, they opened again and she gave him a faint smile when she saw the mug he was carrying. He set the drink on the nightstand and helped her to sit up in bed, and while she insisted she could only drink half of the tea, he encouraged her to finish all of it, just to make sure she stayed hydrated.