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Chapter 15

My dreams skip from Winslow to my grandfather to a shark taking a bite out of the boat. I'm hot yet freezing and when a large palm lands on my shoulder, it startles me awake. For a moment, I wonder if I'm still dreaming because a billionaire sits beside me on the edge of the bed, holding a glass of water, pills, and a washcloth. He lays his palm on my forehead.

"You're burning up," Winslow says in a concerned tone, and the little line between his brows scrunches a little more.

I can barely keep my eyes open, and the cold, wet cloth sears my skin like oil in a hot pan. He moves it to different places over my face and neck, then goes to get another one.

"What time is it?"

"Eleven."

"At night?"

He chuckles. "No. In the morning."

I think I nod my head, but I'm not sure if my body is responding to my thoughts. "Aren't you supposed to be at work?"

He straightens the pile of blankets over me. "I was supposed to go in at nine, but I couldn't leave you when you're so sick."

That's when realization strikes. I vomited last night, multiple times. Oh Christ, how embarrassing. Do billionaires throw up?

"When I got out of bed, your teeth were chattering. I rounded up all the blankets in the house I could find. What can I do for you?"

"I think a bath would make me feel better."

I rise, place the pills on my tongue, and the water forces it to slide down my throat.

"Okay, give me a minute, and I'll get it ready."

A few moments later, he gently assists me off the bed. I had drifted off to sleep unclothed, but now I find myself waking up in a shirt. After a bout of sickness had left me feeling exposed, he guided me to the dresser where I retrieved a t-shirt.

Now, with a gentle touch, he helps me out of the shirt and lays it on the bathroom counter. My equilibrium is off, and he supports me as my balance falters. Leaning against him for support, I struggle to stay upright as he tests the water temperature with his fingers, then slowly lowers me into the tub.

"I've called my personal physician. He'll be here in thirty minutes."

"No, I'll be fine. It's probably just a stomach bug," I protest weakly.

The sensation of the warm water enveloping my body eases my aching muscles. "You should go. I don't want you to catch whatever this is."

A smile spreads across his handsome face. "It's a little late for that. I was inside you just hours before this started. I had already informed my assistant that I would be in late. Plus, it's the advantage to owning the company."

"Okay. It's nice being your own boss. I like having flexibility too."

"When's the last time you took a week off, Cam?"

"Cam? Are we at the point of nicknames?"

He grabs another washcloth and dabs it over my face, lingering on my temples. "Answer. When's the last time you took a vacation?"

"I don't think I've ever taken a vacation since I've been an adult. My work is like having a vacation every day."

"Anyone who steps onto your boat can sense how much you enjoy your job, but it's not a vacation. A vacation is when you feed your body with new experiences, where you rest and relax and enjoy someone cooking for you, or sleep in late."

"Or both." I'm surprised at how excited I sound. Maybe I do need a vacation.

The doorbell rings, and Winslow leaves to answer before coming back and helping me out of the tub and dressing me in pajamas. When we walk into the living room, the doctor is waiting.

"Cameron, I'm Dr. Singh, a general practitioner. I'll need you to sign some papers."

"I don't have insurance."

"You don't need it," Winslow replies.

Dr. Singh does all of the normal tests: blood pressure, oxygen, checks my body temperature, which is one hundred and one degrees. He says, "More than likely, the bath dropped it a couple of degrees. If your temperature reaches one hundred and four, I want you to get to the hospital."

He does three other rapid tests for flu, COVID, and strep just to rule it out. All come back negative.

Winslow's driver brings him his laptop, ginger ale, Gatorade, and crackers. Every time I wake up, Winslow is beside me, working. He hasn't left my side other than to refill my drink or wet a new cloth.

He spends all weekend with me until he's nursed me back to the land of the living, holding my hair when I throw up. He's comforted and confided in me. He's a keeper. But does he want the same thing?

He persuades me to cancel my excursions for Monday and Tuesday, not wanting me to get sick on the ocean. Orlando finds other excursion companies for my clients, so they won't be disappointed. So now, I'm scrolling on my phone, looking at vacations. As soon as peak season is over, I'm taking a trip somewhere, but will I go alone or have some company?

Late in the afternoon, Winslow calls.

"Hey. Are you feeling better?"

"Much. I'm sorry you had to babysit me all weekend."

"Don't be. I was where I wanted to be. Today is a different story."

"You don't want to come back to sickly me?"

He chuckles. "That's not what I meant. I had my fourth date today. Well, not date but you know, meeting with the fourth woman for the show."

"And?"

"It was the worst. I thought it would be interesting to meet a professional sleeper, but wow, was I wrong."

"Why? What happened?"

"Nothing. Other than meeting her and the doctors who study her sleep patterns—nothing. I literally watched the girl sleep for four hours. She's given different sleep aids, and they monitor her brainwaves, bloodstream, and reactions. I asked a few questions from the doctors and watched the little magnetic lines on a chart," he explains with a sigh.

"Did you take her to lunch or are you having dinner?"

"We had a late lunch. I don't know how the production crew is going to get a segment out of this." He sounds frustrated.

"They're professionals, and they'll make it happen," I say.

"She went to Harvard for undergrad and graduate school and has three hundred fifty thousand dollars of debt. Now, she's a professional sleeper but wants to get her PhD. She loves to learn and wants to use the rest of the money for that."

"Did she take the million?"

"Yep, she's risk averse. So far, you're the only risk taker."

Taking a risk on my heart? Yeah, I know.

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