I nod and lean in to clasp him on the shoulder. Just then, the door opens and Lev returns. Yulian scowls. “Way to ruin our brotherly moment, Lev.”
He smirks. “Sorry. Shall I leave you two alone to kiss and make up?”
I roll my eyes. “Is it all sorted?”
“The Flemming meeting has been moved. It will take place three days from now. Just our entourage and theirs. The Ivanovs will not be a part of it.”
“Great. Does that mean we can have lunch now?” Yulian complains.
“Jessa sends her apologies,” Lev adds. “Apparently, she was sick this morning, so lunch will be a little late.”
I get up immediately and walk past Lev. I hear one of them call after me, but I ignore it and keep going until I reach the kitchen. I find her sitting at the kitchen counter with her head cradled between her arms.
“Jessa?”
She jolts upright. “Shit. Sorry. I was just… taking a small break,” she says clearly flustered. “I’ve been a little off my game this morning.”
“What’s wrong?” I move forward and place the back of my hand against her forehead. She freezes at the contact, but I ignore her reaction. “You’re burning up.”
“Don’t be melodramatic. It’s just a slight fever,” she says. “I checked my temperature earlier and it’s coming down.”
“You shouldn’t be on your feet.”
She’s got a couple of things bubbling over the stove, but the aroma suggests that nothing is quite finished. The countertops are especially messy, and she looks pale.
“I’m fine,” she says with determination. “Just give me an hour and I’ll—”
“You’re sick, Jessa,” I tell her firmly. “You need to be in bed.”
“What?” she gasps. “No. I have to finish lunch.”
“I can sort something else out for lunch,” I tell her impatiently. “You need to rest.”
“That’s… that’s nice of you to say, but I have to finish. This is my job and—”
I don’t let her finish. I scoop her up in my arms and carry her out of the kitchen. I know she’s sick because it takes her a second to figure out what’s happening.
“Anton, what the hell are you doing?”
“You don’t listen very well, do you?”
“Put me down,” she insists.
“I intend to.”
I head up the floating staircase that leads to the second floor. There are at least three guest bedrooms on this level, but I move past the landing and continue up to the third story.
“Where are you taking me?”
I don’t answer her. I just keep walking until I get to my bedroom. I kick the door open and walk in. The open windows flood the room in an ocean of bronze sun.
My bed is on a raised platform in the center that’s accessed by a single step. I carry her over to it and set her down on top of the perfectly fitted sheets. I slide them out from under her and tuck them around her shoulders.
“Is this your room?” she asks, glancing at the clothes strewn on the chair next to one of the windows. “I shouldn’t be here.”
“Just lie back and stop arguing. You’ll feel better once you stop talking.”
Despite how weak she seems, she still manages to throw me a glare laced with spirit. “Anton, this is really kind of you but…” She stops short, her expression twisting with discomfort.