Perfect Partners by Carly Phillips Page A

contact, needing Chelsie, he reached to brush it away.
    “When I proposed this partnership, the idea was for you to get more sleep, not less,” he said. “So go, okay?”
    “Okay. Now’s not the best time to hash this out anyway. We’ll deal with things tomorrow.”
    His eyes narrowed. “What things?”
    She slung her purse over her shoulder. “Things,” she said in a low but determined voice. “At least we haven’t finalized anything. I’ll check on Alix on my way out.”
    “Be my guest,” he said to her retreating back. The swinging doors shuffled closed behind her. “But don’t think you’re walking out on this arrangement just because I lack tact and finesse.” And the brains God gave to most men.
    Maybe he had come down with the damned flu. Self-protection was one thing. Driving away the woman who had kept him sane was another. A damned stupid move. As soon as he got Alix home, he planned on rectifying his mistake.
    *     *     *
    Chelsie stomped around the office. If she’d unpacked, at least she’d have the satisfaction of tossing her things back into the boxes. Now, she took the only means available to release her frustration. She taped closed the one box she’d had time to open.
    “What do you think you’re doing?”
    “Leaving,” Chelsie said without turning to look at Griff. At times, he read her too easily. Now he’d see a woman with no intention of carrying out her threat. But her childish actions allowed her to vent anger she couldn’t decide where to direct and she needed the release.
    “No, you’re not” He sneezed.
    “Bless you. Why shouldn’t I?”
    “Chelsie, I’m sorry. I was tired. Irritable. Worried about Alix.”
    “Right. So you turned on me, the person you’d kissed hours earlier. Says a lot about your character.”
    He had to suppress a grin. Her sarcasm gave him a foolish hope that she didn’t really want to leave. “My character leaves a lot to be desired. My taste in partners does not. Come on, give a guy a break.”
    Her hands stilled on the box. “How’s Alix?” she asked.
    “Napping. Fever’s gone. My guess is she’ll be raring to go in about”—he glanced at his watch—“one hour.”
    “Then you go on and get some rest. I’ll handle Alix.”
    He sneezed again. She looked at him in concern. “Feeling okay?” she asked.
    “Just tired. So if you don’t mind, I’ll take you up on your offer.” At least if she had to watch Alix, Griff could be sure she’d still be there when he woke.
    “Go on.” She prodded his back with her palm. “Despite that nasty temper of yours, I might have lunch made when you wake up.”
    “Is that your way of saying we’re still partners?”
    “It’s my way of saying you might get another chance.” Her lips twitched as she tried to suppress a smile. “Speaking of chances, is that your third or fourth?” she asked.
    He opened his mouth to reply and she snapped his jaw shut with her hand. “Quit while you still have a partner, partner.”
    Her dark-eyed gaze settled on his, unnerving him.
    “Go get some sleep,” she said in a husky voice.
    He let his finger trail over her moist lower lip before turning and doing as she suggested. He didn’t trust himself not to touch further. At this point, a solitary nap was the safest place for him to be.
    Unfortunately he awoke with a scratchy throat and a pounding headache. His skin hurt to the touch. He groaned, which only caused the first two symptoms to increase in severity. A hangover, which he hadn’t had since his college days, would feel better than this.
    Chelsie knocked.
    “Come on in.” He propped himself up higher in bed.
    “You must have been exhausted, because you slept through lunch and dinner. I figured I’d wake you so you could at least have something to eat before I left.”
    “How’s Alix?” he asked.
    “What’s wrong? You sound like a frog.” She walked to the side of the bed and snapped on a table lamp, causing him to squint