He was warm, and she wondered if he was feverish. Moaning, he sounded like he was in agony, and she let her hand rest against his neck for the briefest moment. No way could he leave, let alone drive home.
The neighbors were just going to have to deal.
She went to the master bath and dug out the over-the-top first-aid kit her mother had given her when she’d moved in. It included a fancy ear-reading thermometer that she knew must’ve cost the big bucks. And already she’d appreciated it greatly when squirmy Logan had come down with a minor fever soon after school started. It would be just the trick to use on Chris. She needed to make sure his fever wasn’t too high.
“Mommy, what’s wrong? What’s the matter with Captain Nelson?” Lexi followed her every move like a little shadow.
“He’s sick. Stay out of the guest room, okay? I don’t want you to catch it.”
“But what about you? What if you catch it?” The fear in Lexi’s voice was unmistakable.
Jane hugged Lexi to her, giving her an extra squeeze. “I’ll be fine; don’t worry about me. I take care of you guys all the time and never get sick, right?”
“I guess so. Is he going to be okay?” She actually sounded concerned, which gave Jane a glimmer of hope.
“He’ll be fine. Let me take care of him and then I’ll finish dinner, okay?”
Lexi nodded, her expression solemn. “Okay.”
Jane went back into the bedroom and turned the lamp onto its dimmest setting. Chris now lay flat on his back, his eyes closed, his face pale. She touched his cheek, the bristle of stubble scratching her hand, the warmth of his skin not necessarily hot, but better safe than sorry.
Without hesitation, she gently turned his head and set up the ear thermometer, did a reading that clicked in at a little over ninety-nine degrees. A low-grade fever, certainly nothing to worry about. Still, it was as if the man had been completely knocked out.
“Chris.” She murmured his name, wanting to wake him but not startle him. “Christian, wake up.”
He stirred, his lids lifting and then closing, and she noticed his thick, dark lashes. Lashes any female would be envious of, including herself. He lifted his lids again, his eyes opening fully, though he still looked out of it.
“No one calls me Christian but you. And my first grade teacher,” he whispered, his voice rough. And goodness, even in his weary state, sexy.
Her heart fluttered and she smiled. “You’ve got a minor fever.”
“I know. I’m hot.”
He certainly was, in more ways than one.
She noticed the empty water bottle on the table. “Want something to drink? Water or juice, maybe?”
“More water would be good, yeah.” His eyes shut yet again, and he let forth a little groan. “I’m so tired.”
“You need rest.” She allowed herself to touch him, unable to help it. She drifted her fingers across the top of his head, over his silky soft hair.
He sighed. “That feels good.”
She did it again, let her fingers tangle in the strands, and she wished she could do this forever…
But she had her children to take care of, and they were waiting for her.
“Um, maybe you should shed some clothing. Help cool you down,” she suggested. He still wore his T-shirt, but she had no clue if he had his jeans on.
“Honey, I take anything else off, I’ll be naked.” His eyes stayed closed but he smiled. A naughty smile that made her laugh softly.
So tired and not feeling well, and he still had a sense of humor. That was a good sign.
“Well, maybe just your T-shirt, then? You need to get rid of as many layers as you can. Want me to turn on the fan?”
“No, I’m good.” He sat up and, with one hand, tugged the shirt up and over his head, then tossed it onto the floor.
Her mouth dropped open at the sight. Those broad, smooth shoulders, the wide, muscular chest with the lightest patch of dark curling hair in the center, all of that burnished skin stretched taut over sinew and muscle.