‘OK, fine.’
The door buzzed and Marcus pushed it open. He leapt up the four flights of stairs to Celia’s top-floor flat, and at the sight of her he stopped dead, the breath knocked from his lungs.
She was standing in the doorway, her arms crossed and her chin up, and she might be channelling defiance and trying to appear all right, but she looked absolutely horrendous. Her skin was grey, her eyes dull and her hair was all over the place. She was wearing a pair of faded pink pyjamas that had seen better days, and even though she was covered from head to toe he was willing to bet that she’d lost weight. Her cheeks were hollower than they’d been the last time he’d seen her and her collarbones sharper.
Apart from that ten minutes with him in the garden, she always looked immaculate. Magnificent. Totally together and composed. Now, though, she looked like a dishevelled ghost, the energy and drive all sucked out of her, and it shocked the life out of him.
Frustration gone and concern sweeping in to take its place, he strode towards her, then, as she stepped back to let him in, past her into her flat and spun round as she closed the door behind him.
‘What on earth is the matter with you?’ he said, worry making his voice sharper than he’d intended.
Celia winced and put a hand to her temple. ‘Don’t shout at me.’
Guilt slashed through him and he swore softly. ‘Sorry.’
‘I have a headache.’
‘So you said,’ he said, gritting his teeth in an effort to moderate his tone, ‘but this looks like more than just a headache to me.’
‘I guess it might be a migraine but I’ve never had one so I wouldn’t know.’
‘Have you taken anything for it?’
‘Aspirin, but it hasn’t made any difference.’ She walked past him into the kitchen and picked up a bottle of water, holding it to her chest as if she needed the defence. ‘You really didn’t need to come over,’ she grumbled. ‘I’m sure I’ll be fine in the morning.’
‘Possibly.’
‘I’m just tired, that’s all.’
He glanced at the dark circles beneath her eyes and thought that exhausted was more like it. And she was way too thin. ‘When did you last eat?’
She frowned then shrugged. ‘Yesterday evening. The deal went through and we went out to celebrate.’
‘Congratulations.’
‘Thanks.’
‘I’ll make you something and then put you to bed.’
She jerked, her eyes widening and her cheeks flushing, which at least gave her some colour. ‘No,’ she said hotly. ‘Absolutely not.’
At the thought evidently going through her mind Marcus let out a sigh of exasperation and dragged a hand through his hair. ‘Oh, for heaven’s sake, Celia.’
Her eyes flashed. ‘I don’t need a nurse.’
‘You need food.’
‘I need to be left alone.’
‘Well, that’s too bad because I’m not going anywhere.’ Two could play the obstinacy game, and with the state she was in she didn’t stand a chance of winning. How on earth could he leave her when she obviously wasn’t well at all? Dan would have his balls on a plate.
‘I hate you seeing me like this,’ she said.
He hated seeing
her like this too. He’d always thought of her as so strong and resilient, and to see her a mere shadow of herself was twisting something in his chest. ‘I’ve no doubt you do, but you might as well get used to it.’
‘Well, you can’t make me something to eat,’ she said, clearly sensing that this battle was one she wasn’t going to win and, to his relief, giving in. ‘There’s nothing in the fridge apart from bread. I don’t cook, remember.’