The Beast's Fake Marriage (Sweet Fake Marriage Romance Book 5) Page 13

  Talk about nailed. He’d wanted to gain her trust, but she was right, he kept doing stupid things. “You can tell me now.”

  “After you’ve not spoken to me in a week?” She shook her head. “I don’t want to tell you when you’re not feeling well. But I swear I wasn’t talking about you, you silly man. There is nothing ugly about you. You mean the world to me, and I would never hurt you like that.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  Isabeau touched her cool fingertips to his cheek. “Please start talking to me instead of hiding. This could have been cleared up Thanksgiving Day if you’d just talked to me.”

  He nodded. “I know. I’ll try to be better.” And he would try. He drew in a long breath. “I should have known you wouldn’t say anything like that. I’m sorry I didn’t trust your character.”

  “Thank you,” she said and smiled.

  He should have spoken to her. Should have believed in her as a person to not say anything like that and hurt him. Why was it so easy to believe? Whatever the answer, it would have to wait until his head stopped swimming. Until then, even sick, he’d happily lie in her arms and soak in her comfort.

  Chapter 19

  “We’ve waited hours, and you still don’t feel good. I don’t think this is just a bug. It’s time to call a doctor,” Izzy said as she sat beside Rowan, placing the newly wet cloth on his forehead. “That was the deal, remember?”

  He’d thrown up all morning, and she’d barely been able to help him make it to the bed before he collapsed. She’d looked for a thermometer and had been unable to find one, but she knew hot skin when she felt it, and his was blistering.

  The only good thing to come out of it was finding out why he was so upset with her. She’d been talking about Steven, and he’d overheard her and automatically assumed she was speaking about him. If only he wasn’t sick, she could tell him everything.

  He nodded. “I know,” he whispered, sucking in a deep breath and touching his throat. “It’s in my phone. Dr. Liggett. He does house calls. I haven’t had to use him in years.” He covered his mouth and coughed until his face turned red. “My throat is raw,” he rasped.

  Izzy grabbed the phone from the nightstand and made a quick call. It would be at least two hours before the doctor was able to get to Rowan, but that was better than nothing. “Okay, he’s on his way, but it’ll take a little while. In the meantime, we need to work on keeping that fever down.”

  “I just want to feel better so you’ll tell me whatever it is you need to tell me.”

  “You may not like me very much afterward. I think that’s what’s kept me from telling you. I…well, that’s for another time.” She plucked the rag off his forehead and rewet it again. Instead of replacing it, she wiped his face, rewet it again, and pressed it against his neck.

  He took her hand in his. “I doubt very much that you could tell me anything that could change how I feel about you.”

  “Well, get well, and we’ll see.” She smiled, hoping that was true. “Do you think you could handle ice chips or something to drink? Your fever is so high that you’re going to get dehydrated.”

  “No.” His eyes slid shut, and she let her gaze roam over his face. Never had she wanted to take something from someone as badly as she wanted to take this from him. He was so miserable, and she loved him so much.

  Her heart pounded, and her breath caught. Loved him. That was a huge word with depth and meaning and forever attached to it, at least for her it was. She’d never used that word before. Oh, she’d thought it, but she’d never said it to anyone before. But when she thought of those things, Rowan was who came to mind. She could see spending her life loving him. She’d never thought she’d be able to feel that way about anyone, but her heart swelled when she pictured the two of them growing old together. The idea gave her peace.

  The only worry she had was telling him about Steven and what had happened to her last year. There was so much he needed to know, and it hurt to think Rowan wouldn’t understand. What if he blamed her? Her friends did. Well, except Kelsey, and she’d quickly closed down the notion that Izzy was somehow at fault. It had gone a long way in helping her press charges and file a restraining order.

  She brought her attention back to Rowan and swept his hair back from his face. Never had she been struck with such an overwhelming sense of love for someone.

  Over the next few hours, he would wake a moment and then drift back off. By the time the doctor arrived, well after the initial two-hour time frame, Izzy was more than just a little worried. She ushered him into Rowan’s room and stood back as the doctor examined him.

  “Well, good news. I don’t think it’s the flu, but the tests I’m running will confirm it. Right now, I’m thinking it’s strep,” the doctor said. The thermometer beeped, and he checked it. “One hundred and three. Not great, but not the worst I’ve seen today.”

  She chewed her thumb as she watched the doctor. “It’s not as bad as I thought it was.”

  “No, and you’ve done a great job keeping it down.” He checked the tests sitting on the nightstand. “It’s strep, which will make him feel terrible for a few days, but it’s much easier to get over than the flu.”

  “I guess that’s good.”

  “I feel horrible,” Rowan groaned.

  The doctor nodded. “And you will for a few days. I’m going to give you an antibiotic shot and follow with a round of azithromycin. The shot will give the oral antibiotics a boost and get you feeling better pretty quick.”

  Dr. Liggett pulled out a syringe and filled it, and Rowan looked away as it pierced his skin. As the doctor pulled it out, he pressed a cotton ball to the spot and then stuck a bandage on it. When he was finished, he put all his things away and stood.

  “Make sure he stays in bed. If he’s anything like his father, the second he feels okay, he’ll try to be back to work,” he said, looking at Izzy.

  She smiled and cast her gaze to Rowan. “I’ll make sure he rests and stays hydrated.”

  “I’ll call in this prescription and tell them it needs to be delivered.”

  “Thank you.”

  He nodded. “I’ll see myself out. Rowan, feel better.”

  Rowan nodded. “Thank you.”

  She waited until the doctor left the room and then sat beside him. “You hear that? No getting out of bed until you’ve taken every drop of that medicine.”

  “I heard, and it’s good to know that I’m not, in fact, actually dying, because it sure feels like it.” He chuckled and began coughing. When he stopped, he pressed his hand against his throat. “I have to stop doing that. It hurts.”

  Izzy leaned over him and braced her hand on the bed. “I’m sorry you feel so bad.”

  “I shouldn’t have let you stay. You’ve been exposed to it. I don’t want you to be miserable like this.”

  She grinned. “It’s not like you could have made me leave.”

  His eyebrows knitted together. “I could’ve.”

  “Was that before or after you barely made it to the bed before passing out earlier today?”

  His lips quirked up in a small smile. “You’re kicking a man when he’s down.”

  “Well, you’re in bed. Your covers are very cushy. The fall will feel like nothing.” She laughed.

  His smile stretched a little wider, but the tired look in his eyes grew. “That’s not funny.”

  “Then why are you smiling?”

  “To save your feelings.”

  Even sick, he was sweet and charismatic. She loved his smile and his dark eyes and all the wonderful things that made him Rowan. “You can’t turn off the charm, can you?”

  “Can’t turn off what you don’t have,” he said as his eyes closed.

  Izzy laughed. “You have charm in spades, Mr. Masters.”

  With his eyes still closed, he covered her hand with his. “I’ve found I’m not only slightly addicted to Sour Patch Kids and crave them, but also your smile as well.”

  “Addicted, huh?”
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br />   “Only all the time.” He paused and opened his eyes a fraction. “Have I told you how lovely you look today?”

  She rolled her eyes. “I’m wearing a tattered shirt and cut-off sweats.”

  He was fighting to stay awake as he caught her gaze and held it. In an instant, the mood shifted and became serious. “I’m really sorry I was so stupid…again. I should have known you were better than that. I should’ve talked to you. I guess…it’s easier to believe the bad than it is the good.”

  She could understand that. It had taken her months to believe that Steven was finally going to jail, and even months after that, she kept waiting for the call that he’d found a way out again. That his father had been able to pull strings and help him out of jail.

  And with Rowan’s history, she could see it being so easy to believe she was being two-faced. She could almost picture a young Rowan, hesitant to throw a party, being convinced that people would love him no matter what, only to find out that wasn’t true. He’d been badly hurt by it, and with that as his only experience, it wouldn’t be a stretch that she’d treat him the same way.

  “It’s easier to believe the bad because believing the good gives us hope, and that’s dangerous,” Izzy said. “It gives us the chance to get hurt, and no one wants to be hurt.”

  “I suspect you’re right.” He yawned. “I’m wondering if that shot was supposed to make me sleepy.”

  “I think it’s your body trying to fight off this bug. Rest. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

  He exhaled softly and nodded. “Thank you for taking care of me, even though I was a jerk.” His eyes closed, and in seconds he was breathing evenly.

  At his worst, he was still better than anyone she’d ever met. Enough so that he’d changed her too. He taught her that she didn’t want to squirrel away her life because of what someone else did. How much different would his life be if he’d had friends who’d loved him beyond just skin-deep? What would his life look like if he let her love him for the next twelve years and beyond? Would he still hide in this house? Would she be okay with that? Maybe she needed to find the answer to that before she told him how she felt. Perhaps it was better to tell him what happened with Steven first, and then she could delve into what life could be like with Rowan.

  Chapter 20

  Rowan rubbed his face with his hands as he leaned his back against the headboard. For the last three days, Isabeau had hovered over him, keeping him planted in his bed and making him drink until he thought he’d float away. Although he hated to admit it, he enjoyed having her attention.

  The shot had helped him, and backed up with more antibiotics, he was feeling more like himself every day. “I feel much better, and I need a shower. I can smell myself, which means you have to be close to holding your nose when you come near me.”

  “The doctor said to stay in bed until all the medicine was gone, and that’s what you’re going to do. Just because you feel okay doesn’t mean you are.”

  “Do you always follow orders so strictly?”

  She nodded. “Yes.”

  “Well, I don’t think he meant I couldn’t bathe. Just that I couldn’t work. That I needed to continue resting.” And he did need to bathe. If nothing else, he’d feel a hundred times better with a simple shower. He felt disgusting.

  She crossed her arms over her chest as she stared down at him. “Give me your word that you won’t take a shower and then try to go to work. Just because you’re clean doesn’t mean you’re well enough to work yet.”

  He crossed his finger over his heart. “I promise. I will take a shower and come directly back to bed.” If he was honest, it was the first time since he’d first thrown up that he felt like he could even stand up long enough to shower.

  Holding his gaze, her lips were set in a thin line, as if she was debating whether he was telling the truth or not. “Okay, but if you try to go to work, you’ll have to get past me.”

  As he braced his hand on the headboard, he stood and towered over her. “Oh, I will?” he asked, unable to keep from smiling.

  She narrowed her eyes, but he could see she was fighting back a grin. “Yes. I’m small. Not weak.”

  And incredibly cute when her mind was made up. “Well, you’ve certainly terrified me. I’ll come right back.”

  As her cheeks turned pink, she rolled her eyes and smiled. “You think you can smooth talk me. You’re wrong.”

  “I have no charm.”

  “You have buckets of it, and you know it.”

  He took a deep breath. This was an argument they’d been having since day one. She insisted he was charming, and there was nothing about him even remotely so. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  With a huff, she pointed in the direction of his bathroom. “Go take your shower before I change my mind.”

  Rowan grinned. “Yes, ma’am.”

  He strode to the bathroom and shut the door, and after he peeled off his clothes, he stepped into the shower. The second the hot water hit his skin, he let out a long breath. It was amazing how a little water could help him feel human again. As it poured over him, he let his mind wander to the last few days.

  If Isabeau had wanted to, she could have left him to fend for himself, but she hadn’t. The only time she’d left his side was to change out of her exercise clothing. She’d even brought clothes with her so she could shower in his bathroom, just so she could stay close in case he needed her.

  What he wanted more than anything was to know whatever it was she was keeping from him. They’d agreed, though, that she’d tell him the second he’d taken his last dose of antibiotics, and that was still another four days away. Between now and then, his imagination as to what it could be was going to drive him insane.

  The only thing he’d pieced together so far was that she’d been frightened and hurt by someone, but the extent of it was unknown. He was absolutely positive that her hospital stay had something to do with it too. The way she spoke of it, though, like he’d change his mind about her, did give him pause. He couldn’t fathom anything she could ever do to change how much he cared about her. She’d upended his life and given him hope that he might not spend it alone.

  Once he finished showering, he dried off and quickly dressed. When he opened the door, his gaze landed directly on a pile of linens by the door.

  Izzy lifted her gaze and smiled. “I changed your bedding. I figured if you showered, you wouldn’t want to get back into a bed with gross sheets.”

  As he towel-dried his hair, he walked to her and stopped. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome. Do you feel better?”

  “Immensely. Although, tired.”

  “Guess I won’t have to wrestle you to keep you in bed.” Her eyes widened as her cheeks turned deep crimson, and she looked away. “I didn’t mean that how it sounded.”

  Rowan chuckled. “I know what you meant.”

  Isabeau covered her mouth with her hand and yawned. “I’m sleepy.”

  He didn’t doubt that she was. She’d slept in a chair next to his bed the whole time, and he knew it wasn’t the most comfortable way to rest. What he had noticed was that she hadn’t had nightmares the last few days. Anytime he woke up in the middle of the night, she had been resting peacefully. It was an interesting thing to learn.

  “You could lie down and sleep. This bed is plenty big enough. When I was first burned, I had difficulty sleeping, so I had it custom made. For some reason, changing directions helped me sleep. It’s wide enough and long enough that you’ll be in a completely different atmosphere than me.”

  Her gaze landed on the bed. “It’s very tempting.”

  “Stop being tempted and just lie down.”

  She hesitated less than a second before climbing on and sighing as she stretched out. “Oh my goodness. I need a custom-made bed in my life.”

  Rowan lay down a couple feet away and faced her. “The company came here three different times to let me test it before I signed off on the design.�
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  “It’s incredible.” Tired eyes locked with his. “It’s so squishy and comfortable. Do you still hurt from the accident?”

  “No. My skin can be sensitive, but that’s it.”

  She chewed her lips a moment. “Did you lose hearing in your left ear?”

  It was so strange to have a frank discussion about his accident, and with anyone else, he would have shrunk away, but he felt peace while talking to her. “No.”

  She scooted closer, leaving roughly six inches of space, and curled on her side with her arm under her head. “Did you keep your hair long before the accident?”

  “No, but after…well, after the disastrous party, I grew it out. I felt it helped by not only giving myself a buffer against people, but for them as well.”

  She reached out and ran her fingertips along his cheek. “My dad was a firefighter. My parents were older when they had me, and before I was born, he was caught in a house fire, trying to rescue someone. He was horribly burned. Much worse than you.”

  What? “Your father was burned? Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “It never felt like there was a right time, and because I didn’t want you to use that as an excuse for the way I see you.” She pulled back her hand. “He was horribly disfigured. So much so that he looked nothing like the man I saw in pictures from before he was burned. When I was thirteen, I asked my mom why she stayed married to my dad.”

  Rowan tried to keep his breathing steady. “What did she say?”

  “She said, ‘Your father was good-looking when I met him, and I got butterflies every time I saw him, but I didn’t marry him because of that. I married him because of his generous heart, his selfless nature, and the way he loved me. If the only thing you see when you look at someone is their skin, you need to look harder.’ I never saw my dad or other people the same way after that conversation.”

  He swallowed the lump in his throat. “I can see how that would change someone.”