Page 36

He hesitates but then nods and turns to address the room. I flip open my notebook, pen poised to take notes.
But as the meeting drags on, I find it harder and harder to concentrate. My stomach is still off, and I’m so exhausted that I just want to crawl back into bed.
I try to focus on Luca’s words, on the discussion of trade agreements and border disputes. But the words slur together, making no sense.
And then, without warning, my stomach heaves again. I clap a hand over my mouth, leaping to my feet.
“Excuse me,” I mutter, already halfway to the door. I can feel Luca’s eyes on me, hear the murmur of concern from the others in the room.
But I don’t stop. I can’t. I barely make it to the bathroom down the hall before I’m vomiting again, my stomach emptying itself of what little remains.
When it’s over, I slump against the wall, feeling better but sure it will happen again. I guess I need to stop being so stubborn; Luca is right, and I should probably call it a day.
A knock sounds on the door, startling me. “Hailey?” Luca’s voice is gentle, concerned. “How’s it going in there?”
I swallow hard, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand. “I’m fine,” I call out, my voice shaking. “Just give me a minute.”
But when I try to stand, my legs nearly give out beneath me. I clutch at the sink, struggling to keep my balance.
The door opens, and Luca steps inside. His eyes widen when he sees me, and he’s at my side in an instant, his arm around my waist.
“You’re not fine,” he says firmly. “You’re sick, Hailey. You need to be in bed.”
I want to argue, but the truth is, I feel awful. My head is pounding, my stomach still churning. And the thought of facing the rest of the day like this is unbearable.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper, my voice breaking. “I didn’t mean to let you down.”
Luca shakes his head, his fingers brushing my cheek. “You could never let me down. Your health is what’s important now.”
He helps me out of the bathroom, his arm still around me. I lean into him, savoring the warmth of his touch, the strength of his body against mine. It’s all temporary, of course, but I relish it all the same.
We make our way slowly down the hall and into the elevator, Luca supporting me with every step. When we reach my room, he opens the door and guides me inside.
I sink down onto the bed, exhaustion washing over me. Luca kneels beside me, his hand on my forehead.
“You’re not warm,” he murmurs.
“I feel much better.” I turn onto my side, meaning it completely.
“I’m going to send for the palace doctor. You need to rest. Don’t move.”
I start to argue, but he’s already moving away from me, and then he’s gone, the door closing softly behind him. I burrow beneath the covers, my heart racing.
It’s not right, but I can’t help but feel a thrill of pleasure at the memory of Luca’s touch, at the tenderness in his eyes as he helped me into bed.
I know I shouldn’t want him, shouldn’t crave his touch. But in this moment, with my defenses down and my heart laid bare, I can’t stop myself from wishing he were here beside me, holding me close.
A tear slips from my eye, and I wipe it away.
Not wanting to wallow in my misery, I turn on the TV. Might as well catch up on the news while I wait for the doctor.
Not thirty minutes have passed when there’s a knock on the door, and a woman enters the room. I’ve seen her around the palace but never knew she was the doctor here.
“Ms. Warren? I’m Dr. Novak, the palace physician. His Majesty asked me to check on you.”
She has a kind face, with warm brown eyes and a gentle smile. I push myself up to a sitting position, trying to smooth my tangled hair.
“Thank you for coming,” I say, my voice hoarse. “I’m not sure what’s wrong with me. I woke up really nauseous and weak.”