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“Not even a little bit.”
“This isn’t funny.”
“Never thought it was. But I have to say, you’re handling it better than most.” Concern dances in his eyes.
Okay, maybe he wasn’t laughing, but I’ve been on the defense with him since I boarded the plane.
“Mouthwash?”
“Yes, please.” He pulls a travel-size bottle from the vanity, opens it and hands it to me. I rinse repeatedly and go back on my heels, only to end up sitting in Will’s lap. I’m about to apologize and slide off when his hand goes around my waist to hold me in place.
“It’s okay. I got you,” he says, and my heart does a ridiculous thump at his thoughtfulness. Truthfully, I’m not used to anyone taking care of me, and this is actually kind of...nice.
Nice? What the hell am I saying? I just vomited in front of Will Carson. There’s nothing nice about that—for either of us.
“You don’t have a parachute on this thing, do you?” I ask.
He chuckles slightly. “No, why?”
“I’d like to get off.”
I’d like to get off.
“I mean...”
“I’m actually getting a complex,” he says, a hint of teasing in his voice.
“What are you talking about?”
“I’ve met you twice now, and you vomited both times. How’s a guy not to take that personally?”
I groan and reach for a paper towel. My cheeks burn from sheer mortification. “I am so embarrassed.”
He puts his hand to my forehead. “You’re cold and clammy and slightly warm.”
“Pizza for breakfast,” I say. “Wasn’t my best decision.”
“If it was food poisoning, it would have hit you earlier. How about some ginger ale?”
“Not a bad idea.”
“Maybe some toast? It might help settle your stomach.”
“I don’t think I can eat anything.”
“Do you think you’re going to be sick again, or do you want to go lie down? The sofa opens to a bed.”
“I think I’d like to lie down. I guess now I know why I was so tired when I met with James today.” Worry grips my stomach, and I clutch Will’s arm. “I hope I didn’t give it to him.”
Will holds me by my hips and repositions himself so he can stand. “I’m sure he’s fine, but I’ll call him just to make sure.” He hauls me up with him and turns me around. With infinite tenderness, he slides a strand of damp hair from my face, and I let out a shaky breath. His arm drops, but his gaze stays locked on mine. His gorgeous blue eyes bore into my face, his gaze probing, searching.
“I’m okay,” I say. “My stomach is settling.”
“Yeah?”
I nod, and he slides his arm around my waist, but the damn plane hits another air pocket, and Will stumbles backward. I fall with him, until he’s splayed across a table and I’m on top of him.
I yelp and unsuccessfully try to push off of him. “I can’t get up.”
