Now she really didn’t want to answer his questions. “It doesn’t matter, James,” she said tiredly. “Fact is, I’ve got to keep moving or I’ll miss my bus.”
He stilled. Then his eyes widened, and her breath caught at the look on his face. Scary and gorgeous.
“The bus? You’re planning on taking the bus home? In the dark?”
“How else am I going to get home?” she snapped. “I’d spend all my wages taking taxis.” Enough was enough. She needed to get on her feet and show him she wasn’t a pushover. He might be her boss at work, but she was in charge of the rest of her life. She stood, using the toilet seat to brace herself. She was glad she’d already cleaned it. Just as she straightened up, a wave of dizziness washed over her, making her groan softly as the world tilted. She would have fallen had strong arms not surrounded her.
James pulled her towards his chest, holding her tightly. Nausea washed over her, and her breathing became fast and shallow. She would not vomit on her boss. She would not. She would not.
“Jesus, Kinley, you’re burning up. Why didn’t you tell me you were sick?”
“Because I didn’t know I was.” Drat. She hadn’t meant to sound so snappish. But her head was really pounding, and she just wanted to lie down.
“You couldn’t feel yourself getting sick? What? You didn’t notice you had a temperature? That you felt dizzy? Are you going to vomit?”
“No.” Maybe. “Better just turn me towards the toilet just in case.”
He turned her around, just in time, as her stomach heaved, turning into a tight, painful bundle. She started to sob, she hated throwing up. Always had. But more than that she hated throwing up in front of him.
“Please just leave,” she begged.
“No.”
He crouched behind her, supporting her, holding her hair back with one hand.
“Are you trying to humiliate me?”
“No, I’m trying to take care of you.”
“I’m fine.”
“Sure, you are,” he said sarcastically. “Have you finished vomiting?”
She thought about that for a few seconds, but decided she probably had. “Yes.”
“Good. Wait here.” He flushed the toilet then left. Where else could she go? Her legs felt like jelly, she knew it was going to take her a while to find the strength to walk. And then she had to make her way home on the bus, as well as walk to her place. She groaned at the thought.
James returned and then half-turned her. Grasping her chin, he tilted her face up. He ran a wet paper towel over her face. She nearly sighed in bliss, even though she felt like a two-year-old getting her face washed. He moved with a brisk efficiency, not giving her time to protest. When he finished, he chucked the paper towel into the toilet.
“You shouldn’t throw that in there, you’ll clog it up.”
“Hush.”
“But—”
“Kinley, be quiet.” The firm note in his voice made her frown, but she remained quiet. They’re his toilets. If he wants to block them it’s up to him.
“Yes, it is,” he agreed, surprising her. She hadn’t realized she’d spoken out loud. He chucked the second paper towel he’d used on her hands into the toilet as well and flushed it.
Suddenly, his arm slid around her shoulders, his other arm under her legs, and she found herself airborne.
She squeaked. “What are you doing?”
“I’m taking you up to my apartment. You’re in no condition to be working.”
“You can’t carry me! I’m too heavy.”
He stilled. “We’re going to have a chat about that later.” His voice was ominous. “You are not heavy.”