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Anton remained unfazed. “Too bad. You’re sick. You’re going home.”
“This is a dirty smear campaign. Put me down. I’ve got a science horde to wrangle. If I don’t get them in hand, then they could explode something. Maybe even each other. Lou has probably already set her sights on the moon, Anton. We have to go back. We’re all in danger.”
“In case you haven’t noticed, this place has already gone down a very Mad Max road, and it can stay that way for all I care.” Anton slowed as he came to the lab doors, and turned once more to survey the carnage left in the wake of Grace’s absence.
Grace blinked hazy eyes at him. “What? Mad Max? You mean Lou has taken over already?”
“Completely. But that’s a story for another time.” Anton kicked the door of the lab open and ignored the starry-eyed look Grace sent up at him from under her lashes. The woman had the ability to look sexy in any circumstance, even when she had a tissue hanging from her nose and her hair was in disarray.
“I take it back. You’re not Rhett, you’re a-you’re a Viking.”
“Is that so?” Anton asked, striding down the hall, eyes moving along the signs directing him toward the medical office.
Grace hummed. “You bet your tight and toned ass.” She swung her legs from her perch in Anton’s arms. “You go to the gym, don’t you? I mean, like what? Three or twelve times a week?”
“Stop trying to butter me up,” he replied. “I’m not letting you go back to the lab.”
She stuck out her lip. “You’re a real thorn in a lab queen’s side, Kovalev.”
* * *
Grace glared up at him. She wasn’t happy, but she was sick, so that meant Anton didn’t care. He hadn’t signed up to be someone’s boyfriend just to let them run wild and rampant in the streets with a fever of 104 degrees. He may not be skilled in the relationship department, but he was sure letting a significant other wilfully endanger their health for the sake of science was a no-no inTheBig Book of How to Care for Your Girlfriend.Anton never did anything by half measures, and that meant he was going to take care of Grace.
No matter how much she whined. And the woman was an Olympic whiner. It was actually kind of impressive.
“Stop trying to give me murder eyes and go to sleep,” he ordered, yanking the fluffy comforter over her shoulders.
She crossed her arms over her chest. “I keep telling you. I’m fine. The doctor said so.”
“Liar.”
She pouted. “They said I wasn’t contagious.”
“That doesn’t mean you’re not sick.”
Grace glared, but she sank back against the pillows. “You’re a tyrant.”
He tucked the blanket around her. “Save the pet names for when we’re in bed.”
Her cheeks colored in a way unassociated with her fever, and she licked her lips. “I hoped that would be tonight, you know.”
Anton groaned and shook his head. “Don’t tease. Besides, I’m taking you out on a true date. You’re not going to be up for that for days.”
“But the doctor said it was just a bug. That it could be gone early tomorrow morning, even.”
“Then we’ll just have to wait and see, won’t we?” Anton asked, rocking back on his heels and giving her a stern look.
“Couldn’t we plan for a slumber party tomorrow night, then?”
Anton froze in the act of placing a glass of water on her bedside table. “Slumber party?” he asked, even though he already knew what Grace meant.
“Don’t get all coy on me now.” She winked at him and leaned back on her pillows in what she probably intended to be a suggestive pose, and it would have been if she hadn’t immediately erupted into a coughing fit.
The coughing fit and the subsequent snot that she had to clean up with a wad of tissues was enough to dull his lust. He was not going near her. Not like that. He tossed a fresh tissue box onto the bed beside her.
“Get some rest, dear.”
“Anton, I have to get back into those labs. What does a woman have to do to get her way around here?” She wiped her nose with the back of her hand and looked at him meaningfully, but the sexy spell had already been broken.
