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Katie blinked heavily. Was it the vapors?
She returned her attention to his treatment with a little pink in her cheeks.
Or something else…
Lifting her hand to his throat, she smeared the vapor rub outward from the line she'd drawn. Her touch soothed him as much as the treatment. And from the way she concentrated on her hand moving across his chest, it seemed he had his answer. She enjoyed this as much as he did.
"Katie?"
"Yeah?"
"If you work that stuff in any further there's not going to be any left for me to breathe in."
She stilled her hand over his heart beating hard and fast… No doubt she felt it.
"I—" She took a breath like she'd forgotten to take one before she spoke. "I need to get you a towel to cover this." But she didn't move.
"Katie?" He wrapped his fingers around her wrist. Her pulse hammered against his palm.
"Yeah?"
"Do you think…? When I'm feeling better—"
"Sleep," she said taking her hand away as she stood. "Don't worry. I'll do the same."
Stupid.
The virus had loosened his tongue. That kind of question—pushing her like that—was exactly what he'd been wanting to avoid.
"Towels are in the closet. The shelves on the left," he said.
Katie found a towel and returned to lay it across his chest. The trapped vapors chilled his skin. Eased his fever.
"Goodnight, Isaac." She tucked the towel around his neck. When she pulled the blanket over him, her hands lingered on his shoulders before she took them back and stood beside him.
Isaac wished again he could have pulled her into bed with him. Held her at his side to be comforted by her touch all night.
Before he could think on it any further, Katie clicked off the light on the stand beside his bed and disappeared into the dark.
???
Katie lay curled in a ball on the over-sized chair remembering the warm, firm skin of Isaac's pectorals against her fingertips. The hard, round bulge of his shoulders in her palms.
How was she supposed to sleep now? Why had she fought so hard to do all that for him? And what the hell had he wanted to ask her? About after he got better? If it was what she thought it was about, she'd let her attraction to him become too obvious.
Stupid.
Tomorrow, she'd do better. Only touch him when necessary and no longer than she needed to either. Not like he was in any position to act on it but he'd be better eventually and they had to go their separate ways. She couldn't give him any reason to believe they would see each other again after this was over. It would be a lot easier when the time came to walk away if she—hedidn't get too attached.
A quick, uneasy breath escaped her nose.
Shewouldn't get attached. All she had to do was think of the heartbreak she'd suffer if she did. And think of how it would ruin everything she'd worked so hard to achieve.
The only problem was she'd already gotten too attached to him at the party. The way they'd danced. The way he'd somehow, even though he'd gotten blackout drunk, cared enough to remember her complaining about her project and then tried to find her.
She still believed what she'd confessed to him that night. That she could see herself risking everything to be with him.
She'd thought when she found him sick—his face blotchy, dark circles under his eyes, hacking up phlegm—she'd be able to forget all that. She couldn’t. She still saw him as the sweet, sexy—though somewhat awkward—guy that had turned her on with a couple of words and that stupid nickname.
