Wishing she had more experience in non-dating etiquette, she went upstairs and paused outside the door.
Hearing nothing, she tapped lightly. “Ethan?”
There was no reply and she opened the door a crack and saw him sprawled across the bed, still fully clothed. He hadn’t even removed his coat.
His cheeks were flushed and his eyes were closed.
She felt a stab of concern. Was he that exhausted?
Thinking back, she realized he hadn’t looked well earlier. She’d assumed he was just tired, but now she was wondering if it was something more. Maybe he was coming down with something.
Leaving him to sleep, she backed out of the room quietly and walked back downstairs.
The snow was coming down heavily and she thought that maybe it was a good thing that they hadn’t gone out to dinner. Generally she loved the snow, but tonight the skies were clogged with it and visibility was blurred to almost nothing.
After all the stress and the dressing and undressing, she was surprised to discover that she was disappointed not to be going out.
She curled up on the sofa and read for an hour, lost in her book, Madi asleep at her feet.
It was hunger that drove her to her feet again. Hunger and an undercurrent of stress and tension, the cause of which she couldn’t quite identify.
She walked to the kitchen and chopped vegetables, thinking that soup would be perfect when Ethan finally woke up hungry.
Her grandmother had taught her to cook and it had associations of comfort for Harriet. Each time she stood at the stove, she remembered standing there with her grandmother, side by side, their arms occasionally touching. A pinch of this and a touch of that. Stir, taste, stir some more. Her grandmother had cooked by instinct but it had been an excellent instinct and she’d passed that skill on to Harriet. She’d taught her how to choose the best vegetables, how to choose the freshest fish, how a stem of asparagus should snap just so.
The summers she’d spent at her grandmother’s house had been the only time Harriet had eaten properly. Mealtimes had been relaxed and fun, a celebration of the food they’d lovingly prepared together.
She took her time, and an hour later had a beautifully rich and smooth soup, but there was still no sign of Ethan. She’d eaten a bowl of soup and was halfway through the book. The apartment was eerily silent. The snow swirling beyond the windows gave the impression that they were marooned.
Marooned with Ethan Black.
Even thinking about it did strange things to her breathing, which made no sense at all. Especially given that he was currently unconscious.
She glanced at Madi. “Do you think he’s okay?” The dog thumped her tail.
Harriet went to check on him again and saw that he hadn’t moved.
That wasn’t normal, surely?
Concerned, she stepped into the room and tentatively put her fingers on his forehead.
He was burning hot.
She snatched her hand away. “You have a fever!” Horrified, she stood for a moment, frozen by indecision, and then snapped into action. Her insecurities evaporated. She may not know much about seduction, but she knew about this. “You’re sick. I have to get that coat off you. Ethan? Ethan.” She gave his shoulder a gentle shake and he opened his eyes as if he had lead attached to the lids. They glittered with fever and his gaze was bleary and unfocused.
Not good.
“I have to get you out of this coat. You’re burning up. Is this why you came home early from work? Why didn’t you say something?”
He grunted a protest as she tried to ease his coat away from his shoulders. It was only when he resisted that she realized how strong he was. And how heavy. And almost all that weight was muscle.
This wasn’t going to be easy.
“You’re a doctor.” She tugged and pulled until she removed the coat. It was no easy feat. He was bigger than her and much stronger. “You should know it’s not good to wrap up when you have a fever. We have to cool you down.”
“Go away.” His teeth were chattering. “Whatever I’ve got, you don’t want it.”
She ignored him. “Help me take your sweater off. Just move a fraction, please, Ethan.” He obviously wasn’t the type who was good at following orders because he didn’t move. She slid her hands up his arms, feeling rock solid muscles. He was built like a weight lifter. She tugged at his sweater, dragging it up the column of his back and trying to ease it over his shoulder.