“That’s good because I think you need a day off. Doc’s orders.”
She smiled. “Well, I guess I have to obey then.”
“Hmm, seems to me you had some other orders to obey and you didn’t.”
“What do you mean?”
He pointed at the nearly-full bottle of water. She glanced down, wincing as she did. “Did I not tell you that you were to drink all of that?”
“Whoops.”
“Noticed all the coffee is gone. Which means you’re mostly running on caffeine right now since you barely ate any of your lunch. Which can happen when you don’t stop to eat.”
Another guilty look. “I’m in trouble, aren’t I?”
“Oh yes. Now tell me why you keep wincing. What hurts?”
“My head. Could be from sitting so much today.”
“Could also be from not enough water and food. You ever get migraines?”
“Yes. Sometimes.”
He grunted, not happy with that reply. “Right, any punishment is going
to have to wait until you’re feeling better. Come on, let’s get you some water and painkillers.”
“Umm, first, I really need to go to the toilet.” Her cheeks blushed as she stood, pressing her legs together.
Damn. His Daddy side rose, wanting to take her to the toilet himself. But he gave her a nod. She rushed off and he grabbed the water and found some painkillers and crackers, taking them into the bedroom. Probably the best thing right now for her was some sleep. He heard the toilet flush. Then the sound of retching hit him.
Shit!
He rushed into the bathroom, to find her bent over the toilet. He quickly knelt beside her, grabbing her hair to keep it off her face as she threw up. Soon nothing was left to come up and it was just dry heaves.
She groaned, slumping back against him.
“Caley? Talk to me.” Worry filled him as he took her pulse. It was racing. She felt chilled. Ill? Or a migraine?
“Headache is worse than I thought. Sorry. Need dark. Quiet.”
“Okay, hush. Stop talking. Let me take care of things for you.”
He picked her up and carried her into the bedroom, laying her on the bed. “Be back in a second. Stay there.”
She wasn’t planning on going anywhere. For quite a while.
She sighed with relief as he closed the curtains.
“Need black-out ones,” he muttered. Then there was silence. She wondered if he’d left, but she couldn’t open her eyes to check.
God, the taste in her mouth was awful. She wondered if she could make it to the bathroom to brush her teeth.
She needed to move slowly. She sat up. Her head thumped, pounded.
“What are you doing?” a whisper-yell made her whimper.
“Bad taste. Mouth.”