Mills & Boon Christmas Delights Collection. Rebecca Winters

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      I shook my head. ‘It’s nothing. I’m sure it’ll go off.’ I wished I was as confident of this as I made myself sound.

      Michael watched me for a moment. ‘And people call me stubborn.’

      ‘It’s not that at all. You of all people understand the kind of pressure running your own business puts on you. You can’t just go taking sick days willy-nilly.’

      ‘I get the feeling you don’t do anything willy-nilly.’

      ‘Great. Another statement that makes me sound incredibly boring.’

      ‘That’s not what I meant. So how many sick days have you taken since starting your company?’

      The truth was I hadn’t taken any. I’d rearranged a couple of appointments so that I didn’t go taking germs to clients, but I’d never actually had a day in bed and not worked. My biggest concession was a couple of hours on the sofa on a particularly rough day. It was just what I did. What I’d always done.

      When I was sick as a child, Mum generally wasn’t in an appropriate enough state to snuggle me into the duvet and dose me up with Calpol. I didn’t even know that was a ‘thing’ for ages. I never resented Mum for it; it was just how it was. I didn’t really remember a time that it wasn’t. So I just got on with it. On the times when she would sober up and hazily realise I was full of some bug or other, I’d see her overcome with a wash of guilt and she’d make an effort to try and do the traditional mum thing. Until she took another drink and her world became blurry again. In truth, it had actually been pretty good training for running my own business. Once again, it was just a case of getting on with it.

      ‘I do understand. It’s hard when everything’s on you.’

      I flicked my eyes up. ‘I just hope I haven’t brought any germs to you, though.’

      He gave a half-smile. ‘Don’t worry about it. I’m pretty resilient. Even germs think I’m too much hassle to live with.’

      I gave a weak smile, which exactly matched how the rest of me felt.

      Half an hour later, I became aware of Michael studying me. I brought my head up, the effort of doing so seeming three times as hard as usual. He narrowed his eyes at me.

      ‘OK. That’s it. You’re going home.’

      ‘What? No, just let me finish – ’

      ‘The only thing that’s going to be finished here is you if you carry on. You look bloody awful.’

      I gave a watery smile. ‘Thanks.’

      ‘You’ve no colour at all and I can see a film of sweat on your forehead.’

      The horrified look I gave him was swiftly followed by me scooting the back of my hand across my forehead, which did indeed feel damp. Lovely. Bearing in mind I felt about as warm as a bag of frozen peas right now, this seemed a little odd. Not to mention mortifyingly embarrassing.

      ‘It’s just a little warm in here. You’re in a T-shirt! It’s hardly the Arctic.’

      ‘And you’ve shed three layers, put them back on, and then taken them off again since you got here and are now sitting in a sleeveless top shivering.’ He leant over and put the back of his hand on my forehead, ‘And you’re burning up. You’re done.’

      I looked up at him, his hand still lingering on my forehead.

      ‘Don’t think I won’t throw you out if you refuse to leave. You already know I can be an arrogant arse when I want to be.’

      I tried to laugh and ended up coughing.

      ‘Up you get.’ He pushed himself up and reached a hand down to me.

      Surreptitiously I wiped my own hand on my dress before taking his. As I raised my eyes, I saw the grin. Caught. It was testament to just how crap I was now feeling that I was almost beyond caring of this fact. Almost.

      I stood, putting in what I felt was an Oscar-worthy performance of feeling better than I did. But apparently the Oscar this year was going to someone else because as I made to step towards the door, the world began turning a bit blurry. And then a lot blurry. And suddenly the floor looked a lot closer than I seemed to remember it looking a second before.

      In the distance I heard someone calling my name. ‘Kate? Katie?’

      As my eyes regained their focus, I raised them and met Michael’s. The normally faint lines on his brow were deeper as he looked at me, and my body was being held close to his. I could feel his heartbeat and the taut hardness of his chest against mine. And then his arms moved and I was scooped up.

      ‘What are you doing?’ I squeaked out, my throat now deciding to join in with all the other bits of my body that weren’t functioning at optimum levels today.

      ‘I’m putting you on the sofa and I’m phoning Janey.’

      ‘No. Don’t, please. She has more than enough on her plate right now. I don’t need anyone.’ I gave a push against his chest, which achieved absolutely nothing.

      Michael bent his knees, two loud cracks emanating from them as he did so, and deposited me gently on the couch. I immediately tried to push myself up and felt the sweat break out on my forehead again. Michael gave me a look that as much as said ‘I told you so’.

      ‘Michael?’ I said, my voice quiet.

      He leant in, hand brushing my brow, his voice gentle. ‘Yes?’

      ‘I think I’m going to throw up.’ At which point, I lost the ability to concentrate on the horrifying embarrassment of the situation and focused instead on trying not to heave over my client. As the world swam in front of my eyes again, I managed to focus on the bowl that Michael had produced within seconds – clearly his size belied his speed – and vomited. Excellent. My mortification was now entirely complete.

      Michael ignored my request not to call Janey – big surprise – and the next thing I knew she was perched beside me on the sofa, stroking my forehead.

      ‘Hello.’

      ‘Hi. I told him not to call you. I’m fine. Really. Just ate something a bit dodgy probably.’

      ‘Katie, love? Can I let you into a secret? And don’t take this the wrong way.’

      I raised an eyebrow in reply as it took less effort than speaking.

      ‘You look like crap. And I mean that in the nicest way.’

      ‘Of course.’ I gave her a watery smile.

      ‘It looks like you’ve caught that bug that the kids had the other week. It should only last a few days but I’m not letting you go home on your own like this. You’re coming to our place where I can keep an eye on you.’

      I mustered up all my strength, which admittedly right now wasn’t a whole lot, but it was enough.

      ‘No Janey, I’m not. I’m going home. I promise I will go straight to bed, but I’m not СКАЧАТЬ