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Carter’s voice returned to its normal cool drone. “I didn’t think so after seeing your surprise the night of your arrival when Darren joined us for dinner.”
“So, I’m just shallow and spoiled?” Scarlett asked in a choked voice.
“How can you be anything else when you are Rocco Terini’s daughter?”
Scarlett nodded, folding her napkin in deliberate squares. “Will you please have Darren return me to my room?” She couldn’t bring herself to meet his eyes.
He didn’t respond for a moment and she looked up at him, his eyes had softened but there was still anger beneath the surface.
“I want to go to my room. I don’t want to sit down here with you anymore, don’t you see that? Or you can’t, because you’re so cruel?”
The last line made him move. Darren appeared only a few moments later and helped her to her room where she found herself crying into her pillow.
By the next morning, Scarlett was truly miserable. She’d spent the rest of yesterday in her room to avoid running into Carter. To her humiliation, his words had wounded her, and she’d spent an hour weeping over them. After the tears abated, she felt even worse, and her throat was so sore she couldn’t eat her dinner.
Ann, the maid, whose name she finally asked, brought her another tray for breakfast, but Scarlett waved her out after asking for her to bring a glass of apple juice instead. She was huddled under the covers a few minutes later when there was a knock at her door. Carter entered imperiously without waiting for an invitation. “Listen, princess, Ann has better things to do than wait on you hand and foot. If you don’t want to eat what you’re offered, you can come downstairs and get it yourself.”
“Get out of here,” Scarlett managed to croak out, keeping her back turned to him.
“If you’re on a hunger strike, it won’t work,” Carter said blithely. “All you’ll do is lose your pretty figure and make yourself ill, but you won’t soften my attitude. Fits and tears won’t get you home any sooner.”
Tears seeped from her eyes again, and Scarlett wondered why he was being so harsh with her. That night at the hospital, he’d been so kind to her, had even apologized for letting her get lost. Now he seemed determined to tear her down and hurt her at every opportunity. “I’m already sick,” she managed to force through her swollen throat.
Carter’s mouth snapped shut, and he sat down on the bed beside her. She felt his presence but didn’t respond. He gently rolled her over to face him. Carter placed a hand on her forehead. “You’re warm. I’ll call Dr. Weiss,” he said in a gentler tone.
6
Carter
Dr. Weiss examined her while Carter was waiting outside her room, pacing nervously. “How is she?”
“It’s pneumonia, but a mild case. She’ll be fine, Mr. Braxton. I’ve left her some tablets, and she should recover in a few days. Just keep an eye on her fever. If it gets above one-hundred-and-three degrees, I want you to call me.”
“You aren’t taking her to the hospital?”
Dr. Weiss shook his head. “There’s no reason unless she worsens. She’ll be just as comfortable here at home. In fact, she begged me not to admit her.” He ignored Carter’s arguments, battling his way to the front door a short time later.
His words played through Carter’s mind, and he laughed bitterly. Yes, Scarlett would probably be more comfortable at home, but she was here, in the house of her adversary, whether or not she realized Carter was her enemy. Shaking off his strange mood and his worry, he instructed Ann to keep a close eye on Scarlett, and closeted himself in the study for the rest of the afternoon.
Later that evening Ann came downstairs. “She’s thrashing, and her fever is up, Mr. Braxton.”
“How high?” He removed his reading glasses, massaging the bridge of his nose.
“One-hundred-and-two, sir. Dr. Weiss left a page of instructions, but I’m concerned.” Ann wrung her hands helplessly.
He took the stairs two at a time. Why hadn’t he checked on her sooner? Scarlett was lying in the bed, her face flushed and sweaty. He looked at his watch, realizing Ann had already stayed on an hour past her shift. “You can go home. I’ll deal with this.”
“Thank you, sir.” Ann nodded her head and left the room as Carter returned his attention to Scarlett.
She was sweating and had soaked through her thin cotton nightshirt. Carter read the instructions Dr. Weiss had left, deciding a tepid bath was in order. He left the water running and returned to the bedroom. With a determined expression, he stripped the gown from her body and forced himself to ignore the tempting flesh displayed underneath.
He knew Scarlett would be furious with him when she regained her senses, but there was no other choice. He lifted her from the bed and carefully carried her into the bathroom. Her skin was silky against his, even with the sweat beaded on her forehead.
After sponging her in the cooling water for half an hour, Carter took her temperature again, pleased to see it had fallen by a degree.
Gratefully, he laid her on the bed and rummaged in the dresser until he found a pink cotton nightgown, which he slipped over her head. He tucked her under the covers and sat with her until her eyes opened a few hours later.
“Carter,” she said in a soft, dreamy voice. Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes shone from fever, but for just a moment, he allowed himself to pretend it was desire that had wrought the change. He wanted to lean forward and kiss her sweetly pouting lips, but restrained himself.
