Reluctantly Married by Victorine E. Lieske

eyes, and the world went dark. A few more times she dreamed of Adam. Once they were at a beautiful ball dressed in formal clothing. He held her close, her head against his chest. It was nice. She told him how good he smelled, and he chuckled. They talked for a while, but that part of the dream was fuzzy.
    Then she fell into a long, dreamless unconsciousness. When the fog lifted, she opened her eyes and peered at the clock. Eleven-thirty. Light filtered through her curtains, so she knew it must be the next day. She’d missed work again. Oh, well. Leon would simply have to deal with it. Adam was fine hosting the show by himself anyway.
    She had started to slip out of bed when she noticed a pair of cowboy boots on her floor. Fear crept up her spine. She didn’t own cowboy boots. She turned and held in a scream. Adam lay asleep, sprawled out on a kitchen chair beside her bed, his head at an unnatural angle. He wore a white T-shirt and jeans.
    She grabbed her blanket, covering up her filmy gown. “Adam!”
    He awoke with a start, glancing wildly around the room until his gaze settled on her. “Oh. You’re awake.”
    “What are you doing here?” she screeched.
    He held up his hands. “Whoa, hey, you let me in.”
    “I did no such thing! Get out!” Yelling probably wasn’t the best idea, because it made her cough, which sounded horrible even to her ears.
    “Settle down.” He stood and backed toward the door. “You’re sick.”
    She stared at him, realization dawning. “That was you knocking on the door.”
    “Yes. You wouldn’t answer your phone. I got worried.”
    “So you broke into my apartment?”
    Shaking his head, he protested. “No. Like I said, you let me in. I mean, not right away. It did take you a while to get to the door, but you finally opened it. And I’m glad you did. You were not well.”
    She stared up at him, trying to figure him out. Was her dream real? Was he nursing her? She glanced at the nightstand. A fresh glass of ice water sat on a coaster. A wet cloth lay beside it.
    Heat crept up her neck. “How long have you been here?”
    He looked at his watch. “A few hours. I came back after the show this morning.”
    “Came back? You were here before?”
    A blush touched his cheeks. “I’ve been here since yesterday.”
    “You spent the night here?” She clutched the covers tighter.
    “You wouldn’t let me take you to a doctor. And you had a high fever. I needed to give you some ibuprofen, and watch you, to make sure you didn’t have a seizure or something. And if you weren’t better today, I was taking you in, no matter what you said.”
    Images from her dreams flashed in her mind, and she could no longer look him in the eye. “Um…I must have been out of it.”
    He rocked back on his heels. “Yeah.”
    A horrible feeling settled over her. She didn’t want to ask, but needed to know. “What did I say?”
    His lip twitched. “Plenty.”
    “Well, I wasn’t myself. I had a fever. You can’t take any of that seriously.”
    He folded his arms across his broad chest. “Uh, huh.”
    “I mean, I was delusional.”
    He nodded, a grin forming, those blasted dimples showing. “Oh, and your sister called.”
    “You answered my phone?”
    He shrugged. “Wendy says, ‘Get better soon.’”
    Heat singed her face. Great. Wendy would probably jump to the wrong conclusions. She raked her hand through her hair, and it stuck in a tangle, reminding her that she probably resembled the bride of Frankenstein. Heaven only knew what she smelled like. “I need to shower.”
    “Oh, yes. Well, uh,” he stammered. “I’ll go in the other room.” He backed up a step. “Are you hungry? Do you want me to make you some eggs or something?”
    She couldn’t hide a smile. He was cute when he was uncomfortable. “Sure.”
    She took an extra-long time in the shower, scrubbing off the buildup of sweat from her fevered state. She even shaved her legs, although she wasn’t sure why. It wasn’t like