Page 33 of Cash

“Cari? Cari.” I tapped her cheeks with my fingertips.

They were chalk white. But she was breathing. Just exhausted and overcome. I ran my fingers over the curve of her jaw and marveled at the downy feel of her skin. My dragon wanted more than just a slight touch.

She’s unconscious, I rebuked him, pushing him far down in my subconscious as I lifted her from her stool and carried her to the bed.

In another life, in another situation, I would be carrying her to the bed would share. And we wouldn’t be sleeping. But here, now, I wanted only for her to get some rest. And in the morning, when my food was delivered, I’d share my breakfast with her. She needed to rest and get her strength back.

And we needed to get to the center of what was happening to her.

I eased the lab coat from her shoulders and let it slide off, hitting the floor by the bed. Gods, she was a skeleton. In just a week, she’d lost so much weight. Like fear and stress were eating away at her, compounding the fact that she was living on coffee.

I couldn’t imagine the strain she’d put on her system. I pulled back the covers and laid her down, removing her shoes before pulling the blankets over her. Against the white pillows, her hair shone like gold. I could imagine how much more beautiful it would look once washed and brushed out. She hadn’t been taking care of herself, not at all.

I could admit now that I’d assumed the trouble had something to do with a man—a boyfriend, a breakup, something trivial which she’d get over in time. But this sort of breakdown signified something much more serious. I wished I could get a hold of Smoke, ask him what he thought. He was the scholar, not me. I should’ve spent more time reading about important things instead of pining over Scotland and wasting time watching action movies.

There was a spare blanket and pillows in the linen closet. I made a bed for myself on the floor and stripped down to my boxers and t-shirt, then settled in for a restless night.

* * *

It wasten hours before she woke up.

“Oh, my God.” She sat bolt upright, mouth open in horror. “I slept here? What happened? How…?”

I sat up, too, the blanket around my waist. “You don’t remember?”

“I… don’t think so…” She rubbed her forehead. “Oh, my God, what a mess… My head is splitting like I have a hangover.”

“I don’t think it’s a hangover,” I smiled gently. “The only bender you went on was an emotional one.”

Her hands dropped to her lap as memory dawned. “No. I can’t believe I made a scene like that. I’m so sorry.” When she started to swing her legs over the side of the bed, I jumped up to stop her.

“Hold still. You’re going to rest there for a little while longer.”

“I can’t! I have work to do. You know I do.”

“Yes, I know you do, but the first thing you should concern yourself with is eating.” I held up a hand to signal her to stay still, then opened the door to the lab.

My breakfast was waiting, as always. Eggs, steak, potatoes, fruit, blistered tomatoes, toast, coffee, and milk. Everything a growing boy needed. I carried the tray into my room and set it down on the bed.

“What’s all this?”

“My usual breakfast,” I explained, lifting the lids on all the dishes. “Eat. As much as you can.”

“I couldn’t, Cash. This is yours.”

“When’s the last time you ate?” I challenged as I unwrapped the silverware, one eye on her at all times.

Her brow creased in thought. “Oh. You know, I don’t remember.”

“I’ll bet you don’t. You’re wasting away. Now, eat.” I thrust the knife and fork toward her. “Eat as much as you can manage, and then some more. You have to get your strength back.”

“I really shouldn’t be doing this.” Even as she said it, I could see how the aromas wafting off the tray were affecting her. The dilated pupils, the way she kept having to swallow back the saliva which flooded her mouth. There was no denying her hunger.

I nodded, just once, and she picked up a piece of toast and took a nibble. Which turned into a bite. Which turned into her nearly shoving half a piece in her mouth all at once before cutting into the medium-rare strip steak.

It was a relief, seeing her eat like that. I could provide for her even in the most rudimentary of ways. She didn’t even seem to feel embarrassed at eating that way while I watched, which was another good sign. Her body was taking what it needed.

Once she slowed down enough to be able to breathe in between bites, she asked, “What time is it?”

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