Page 11 of The Boss’s Obsession
“You’re pinching your temples and you don’t have your contacts in,” I observed, as I tidied up some of the stray papers laying around. The fact that the room wasn’t spotlessly clean was another sign that my meticulous boss wasn’t feeling his best.
“Right, and I’m sure seeing me passed out and having to drag me upstairs last night also clued you in, right?”
I smiled at him, turning to lean a hip against the table.
“It might have made it easier to guess. Are you ok? Drinking so much doesn’t seem like you.”
“It’s not like me, and I don’t plan on doing it ever again if I can help it.”
I nodded, the end of my nose tickling. I wriggled it and fished for a tissue in my pocket.
“I should be the one asking you how you’re feeling,” Ronan said, unfolding himself from his chair to his towering height. He approached me slowly, and my gut clenched. He reached me and brought his palm to press against my forehead. “You’re warm.”
“I hurried over here,” I explained, flushing even harder just because he was touching me.
“That’s not why. You’re sick,” he said quietly, a note of admonishment to his voice.
I shook my head. “I’m fine. I can work.”
Ronan dropped his hand, and turned from me, striding out of the room. I followed slowly, my hot cheeks blazing. Now I was thinking about it, I was feeling much worse than this morning. My throat was aching, and my head was pounding. It would be just my luck to get really ill during my two weeks’ notice and make everything harder. After everything Ronan had done for me, I genuinely wanted to help train an assistant who would be a great asset to him. Despite his draconian work hours and demanding standards, he was brilliant, and I’d grown so much and learned so much about myself in my time under him. Being sick and feeble for the notice period would leave a bad taste in my mouth.
I lingered in the kitchen, as Ronan went to the bathroom and then returned.
“Hold still,” he said, advancing on me. I backed up against the counter, taken aback by his sudden focus on me. His hand rose, and I saw an electric thermometer in it. He scanned my forehead as I held still. The machine beeped and he turned the orange light to me and tutted.
“You have a fever.”
“A mild one!” I didn’t know why I was arguing when I felt so rubbish, only that refusing to show weakness in front of Ronan was a habit that was hard to break.
“A mild fever is just the precursor to a worse one. You need to get to bed and rest.”
“No!” The word left me before I could stop it. Ronan stared at me, puzzled as I scrambled for words. “I can work. I want to. I’m leaving soon, and I won't feel good about it if I take days off before then.”
Ronan blew out a breath and rubbed his neck. “I won't tell you not to work, because I know you couldn’t tell me not to, but I don’t want you making yourself more ill. Let’s compromise. You’ll rest here, and then you can work at the same time… a little, anyway.”
“How can I rest here?”
“In the spare room. I won’t take no for an answer. If not, then I’ll call Jim and he’ll take you home.”
“No, it’s ok. I’ll work from here.” A cough left my lips as I said it, and I stopped trying to fight how cruddy I felt. Ronan braced a hand on the island and pointed along the hall.
“In that case, get to bed,” he said, sending further shivers down my spine.
I picked up the thermometer from the table. “I’ll just put this away,” I muttered, and he caught my wrist.
“I’ll do it. I don’t want you to see anything you shouldn’t in the bathroom cabinet,” he said. I blinked up at him, freezing to the spot. Was he making a joke? Teasing me? If he was, it had never happened before, so I thought it unlikely, and yet, there was a curl to his lip that looked playful.
I flushed, all the embarrassment over the damn vibrator incident this morning rearing back up in my mind.
“Yeah, well, I’m sure you couldn’t have anything more embarrassing than I do, so I guess you’re fine,” I muttered, turning away. I had to fight the urge to hightail it along the hall to the spare room, jump under the covers and scream.
Ronan was studying me, his hand still firmly wrapped around my wrist. “I can’t tell if your fever is spiking, or you’re really just embarrassed about this morning.”
“Both probably!” I twisted my hand to try and grab it back, but he held on. “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t make fun of me for it.”
Ronan clasped my hand tighter, tugging me closer to him with the movement. “Why would I make fun of you? You told me yourself that you’re all grown up. You’re a woman, Sienna, and wanting to come is a natural desire.”
Whatever I’d imagined he was about to say, that wasn’t it. I blinked at his cool, clinical words. “What?”
