Page 4 of The Billionaire's Obsession: Florida

“You’re sick and you’re staying here,” Simon told her sternly as his dark eyes swept over her and he grimaced.

“I can’t. I’m working tomorrow. I need to get some sleep.”

“You’re not working for at least the next week. I already called Mom and told her to replace you.” His expression was disapproving as he covered her body with the comforter and sat on top of it, effectively trapping her. “I also took the liberty of grabbing your keys from your backpack so that my assistant can go to your place and get you some clothes in case your roommate isn’t home.”

“But I-”

“Don’t argue! This discussion is over. I’m going to make you something to eat and you will eat it. Then you’ll go to sleep.” He stood and exited, the orders still reverberating through the rather impressive space of the bedroom.

Fuming, Kara sat up and debated whether she dared to spring out of bed and through the door of what looked like a condo. A very nice condo! The bedroom was spacious and decorated in shades of tan and black. Tan, plush carpet and masculine dark furniture dominated the room. The bed was enormous and sat on a frame of intricate black ironwork that supported a canopy of what looked to be tan silk with woven black and brown designs. It was a beautiful room, bold and dark, just like the man who owned it.

Did he really expect her to stay here? Yes, his mother was her boss and friend, but she didn’t know Simon and she wasn’t sure she liked him. He was bossy, impatient, and expected people to jump when he said jump. Or stay when he said stay-sort of like a well-trained dog. Unfortunately for him, Kara didn’t take orders well. She had made her own decisions since her parents had passed away and the last thing she needed was a domineering billionaire calling the shots in her life. The only thing money meant to Kara was security. Other than that, she couldn’t care less about what money could buy; it was hard to miss material things that she had never had.

He called Helen to replace me?There was no way she could miss a week of work. Missing two days this week had already stretched her empty bank account. She relied on her tips to survive, and she didn’t get tips by sitting on her butt at home. She had missed two evenings because she had no choice. The virus had eaten her up and spit her out, leaving her prostrate on her bed and sicker than she had been since she was a child.

She sighed and leaned back against the pillows. She was so tired and so damned weak right now. All she really wanted to do was bury herself in this warm, comfortable bed and sleep until she wasn’t tired anymore. What would that be like? She couldn’t remember a time that she wasn’t exhausted. It had become normal for her to feel drained during the last four years; she only slept a few hours a night and her meals were sporadic, depending on what she could afford.

Kara looked up as she heard theclinkof glass-on-glass and saw Simon coming into the room, juggling dishes. She bit back a smile, thinking that it was a good thing that he was a computer geek, because he would never make it as a waiter. He had a glass in one hand and a plate in the other. A bowl was balanced precariously between his elbow and chest. She wanted to tell him it would be easier if he just put the bowl on the plate, but she bit back the suggestion.

“I don’t know what you like,” he grumbled as he put the glass on the bedside table and handed her the bowl. He sounded cantankerous over the fact that there was something he didn’t know. “Soup. Eat.”

Talk about a man of few words.He issued commands like a drill sergeant. “Simon, I can’t stay here,” she told him softly as she accepted the bowl of steaming soup. Chicken noodle. Her favorite. Stomach rumbling from the tempting aroma coming from the bowl, she lifted the spoon and took a cautious bite. She could tell that it had come out of a can, but it tasted delicious and her rumbling stomach made her shovel it in like a starving woman.

“You are staying. Take these.” He scowled at her as he held up a hand and dropped two pills into her open palm.

Extra-Strength Tylenol. She popped them into her mouth gratefully and reached for the glass. Simon handed it to her before she could reach it. She swallowed and handed the juice back to Simon’s waiting hand before replying, “I have to work. I can’t afford to be off. I already took two days because I was sick. I’m sure I’ll feel better by tomorrow.”

“You bet your sweet, exposed ass you will. I’ll make sure that you do,” he replied, his voice irascible.

Kara continued to eat her soup as she eyed his expression. He was serious. Dead serious. How did a sweet woman like Helen end up with a crabby-ass son like Simon? “You’re not my boss, Simon.”

“No, but my mother is and she agrees that you aren’t working. She didn’t realize you were still ill,” he told her, his expression surly. “Hell…I don’t know how she missed it. You have black circles under your eyes that make you look like a raccoon and you look dead on your feet. Mom’s definitely slipping. She can usually dig out any problem. Painfully, if necessary,” he rumbled, as though he were remembering a few of those painful experiences.

“I was feeling better earlier. And she was trying to help me find something to wear over my skirt,” she told him calmly as she finished off the soup.

“Where in the hell did you get that outfit? I’ve never seen you in anything but jeans,” he queried softly, dangerously. Kara quivered as his eyes roamed over the quilt, as though he could see her scantily-clad body through the material.

“It was a loan,” she said, accepting the plate that held a yummy-looking sandwich as he took away the bowl. “Like a complete idiot, I spilled coffee down the front of my clothes today and didn’t have time to run home before work.”

“You are not an idiot,” he stated curtly.

Swallowing a bite of the delicious egg salad sandwich, Kara’s eyes jerked up to his face in surprise. “We’ve never met. How did you recognize me? How do you know what I usually wear?”

He shrugged and diverted his eyes. “I’ve seen you around the restaurant.”

“I’ve never seen you at the restaurant.”

“I stop by to see Mom. I usually don’t go out front.”

Helen’s office was in the back, so it made sense. Kara was silent while she wolfed down the rest of the sandwich. God…she was hungry…and grateful for the meal.

“Thank you,” she told him sincerely as she handed the plate back to him and he set it on the bedside table.

“You need to eat. And sleep.” He touched the dark patches under her eyes softly with his index finger. “I’ve never been close enough to see how tired you look.”

“The virus kicked my rear,” she murmured lightly, feeling warmed not only by the food, but by the concerned frown on Simon’s face. “I’ll feel well enough to work tomorrow.”

He handed her the glass of juice. “Don’t even think about it. Finish that and sleep.”

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