‘Right,’ Nick clipped, shooting Sam one last frustrated look before he strode back towards the waiting executives.
* * *
Nick staredat the cup of tea in front of him, taking a deep breath in through his nose and letting it out in a huff from his mouth. Goodie’s beautiful but bloodshot eyes, flushed cheeks and the bead of sweat on her forehead flitted through his mind as he tried to focus on Ed’s excited voice. Everyone else around the conference table was absolutely transfixed by Ed’s enthusiasm and the revolutionary ideas he had developed.
Unlike in other meetings of this kind, Nick had barely said a word. Surprisingly Bertie had stepped into the breach rather well: introducing Ed and discussing some of the financial details of the project. Nick tried to focus back onto what was being said but all he seemed to be capable of hearing was Goodie’s hoarse voice and seeing the wince on her face when she swallowed. Before he knew what he was going to do, he had shoved his chair back and was standing up. All eyes swung to him. He scanned the surprised faces, mumbled a few weak apologies and told Bertie and Ed, ‘I’m sure you chaps can finish up without me.’ With that he shoved his laptop in his briefcase, slammed it shut and strode over to the door.
Chapter18
Gogol Mogol
Goodie triedto control the shaking that was raking her body but it was no use. Salem licked her hand as it was hanging off the edge of the bed until she shuffled back slightly and patted the space beside her so he could leap up next to her. She was so cold. She pulled the duvet up further and cuddled into Salem’s large, warm body, but nothing could tamp down the shaking. Sleep, she thought, as she closed her aching eyes, I just need to sleep. In the back of her mind she knew that what she really needed was some fluids and paracetamol, but for the moment that wasn’t happening. She’d survive; she always did.
‘Goodie,’ she heard his deep voice and felt gentle fingers shift her hair away from her forehead. ‘Jesus Christ, you’re boiling.’ Her duvet was being pulled back and Salem’s warm body was pushed from her side. To her horror a whimper of protest left her lips as she tried to snatch the covers back.
‘You’re too hot, honey,’ his voice told her again, closer now, and she could feel his breath on her cheek. ‘Have you taken anything for the fever?’ She shook her head. Where was her knife? She needed to stab this sadist in the throat.
Next thing she knew she was being sat up in bed supported by a strong arm at her back. ‘You’ve got to take these, baby.’ She felt two tablets in her hand and managed to lift them to her mouth, wincing as she swallowed over her ravaged throat. ‘Drink this.’ A glass was brought up to her lips and she took a few sips, but the cold water hurt her throat even more than the tablets had. Thankfully the sadist didn’t push it any further, and let her settle back into the bed. She pulled the duvet up to her chin again and curled into a ball, her shaking back with a vengeance. Moments later she could hear the low mumbling of his voice and blinked her eyes open to see that he was on the phone. When he caught her eye he moved to the bed and put the phone up to her ear.
‘Goodie,cariad?’
Goodie rolled her eyes and shot Nick a filthy look.
‘Katie,’ she rasped.
‘Oh no, you sound rough. Nick’s worried, bless him.’
‘Heshouldbe worried. When I have strength back I am going to kill him,’ Goodie said, trying to make her voice menacing but in reality the croaking just made her sound pathetic.
‘Tell me your symptoms.’
Goodie told her to fuck off in Russian and Katie snorted a laugh. ‘I know enough to know that was a naughty word, you cheeky girl. Humour me, okay?’ Even though she was laughing as she spoke, Goodie could detect a thread of unease in Katie’s voice; she really was going to kill Nick when she was able, for worrying her like this.
‘I have cold,’ Goodie told Katie, letting her Russian accent thicken in her exhaustion. ‘Tell me, can you section people under Mental Health Act.’
‘Um … Goodie, I’m not sure …’
‘Can you do this or not?’
‘I … uh … I can but I need a social worker and a –’
‘Call these people. Get them here. This man has lost his mind. I have cold; tell him to leave me alone.’ Nick scowled at Goodie and snatched back the phone, stalking out of the room. She was just thinking that maybe he had taken her at her word and left her alone (why that made her chest constrict and her nausea worsen she had no idea) when he pushed open the door to her bedroom again.
‘Right,’ he said, using the no-nonsense voice she had often heard him employ in meetings. ‘Katie thinks you have flu. I spoke to Mum because I couldn’t remember what she used to give me, and I made this.’
Goodie stared at him and blinked. ‘You … spoke to your mother?’
He didn’t answer and just moved to the side of the bed to pull the duvet down from under her chin. She shivered and tried to snatch it back.
‘Katie said you shouldn’t overheat.’
‘You are sadist,’ Goodie muttered, her teeth chattering together.
‘Drink this.’ He shoved the cup he’d been holding under her nose and she tried to push it away, shaking more violently now. ‘Fuck it.’ He put the cup down, slid one arm under her knees and the other around her shoulders to scoot her down the bed, then got into the bed behind her, pulling her shaking body back against his broad torso. Not used to sharing personal space, her first reaction was to push away, but then his warmth seeped through her clothes and she almost sighed with relief as her shakes subsided. Maybe it was the fever, maybe the intoxicating feeling of having him so close, she couldn’t be sure, but after a moment she actually buried deeper into him, pressing her face against his neck.
She felt his chest expand as he took a deep breath, then one of his hands started stroking her hair and her back as he reached across with the other for the cup he’d brought in. ‘Try it, baby,’ he murmured against her hair, wafting the cup under her nose. The smell of lemon and honey drifting up to her was surprisingly soothing and she found herself reaching up and grasping it before taking a long sip.
‘That smell,’ Nick said, still stroking her back. ‘Reminds me of my childhood, you know?’ Goodie shrugged, swallowing the rest of the cup and almost moaning at how soothing it was to her throat. ‘Didn’t your mum ever make you honey and lemon when you were sick?’
