Her eyes are closed and she appears to be lulling herself to sleep. I'm disappointed. I want to talk to her, to find out more about her. Why is her friend Maria her next-of-kin instead of her parents?
Why is she so skittish around me? I could understand the powerful attraction between us making her wary but sometimes she seems almost afraid of me.
At first, hearing the way Cather spoke about her, I'd thought there was something between the two which had made me very cold towards her but I soon realized how foolish the idea was.
I could be charming and sweet to her but that wouldn't work with Emmy. I read her quite well. If I calmly ask her out on a date, she would say no. Emmy needs a man who can make her step out of her shell and be who she's meant to be. And I'm determined for that man to be me.
I want to teach her to trust me.
I unbuckle my seatbelt and go to the wet bar where I pour myself a glass of cognac and poured her a glass of sherry despite her saying she doesn't want anything. The alcohol will do her some good, let her relax and probably we could get around to talking.
Returning to our seat, I place the drinks on the table before us. She still doesn't acknowledge my presence at all and I am becoming annoyed with her.
"Are you planning to sulk for the two-and-a-half-hour ride to Detroit?" I ask her. I am trying to go for a friendlier tone but didn't quite succeed in hiding my annoyance.
She makes a sound like a moan and I frown at her. "Emmy, are you okay?"
"I don't feel so good," she moans and wraps her hand around her tummy, trying to huddle into herself.
At first, the thought crosses my mind that she is faking it but the minute I reach to take her arm and feel the heat coming from her skin, I know she's sick.
I touch her forehead and she's burning up. Damn, she was fine before we left her house, what the hell would have caused her to be sick right now "Emmy, you have got a high temperature," I say to her oh.
"Why didn't you say something?" I berate her. "Good Lord, woman. Don't you have any sense of self-preservation? First, starving yourself and now suffering in silence from a fever."
"I didn't want to bother you."
Anger rise inside of me. "Damn it, Emmy. Feel free to bother me anytime something is wrong."
"I need the bathroom," she says, holding her mouth.
"Shit."
I swing her up in my arms and stride towards the lavatory. The bathroom was designed to be luxurious, with a shower. I hold her to me as she vomits into the toilet and my heart wrenches painfully to see her like this and not knowing the cause.
She dry-heaves a few times, her slender body shuddering in my arms.
"Got it all out?" I ask her gently wiping the sweat from her face.
"This is so embarrassing," she murmurs and tries to hide her face from me. "Must be something I ate last night at that restaurant."
"Come on, let's get you cleaned up."
I help her to brush her teeth with the disposable toothbrushes I keep stored before lifting her in my arms once more. She is so hot that it scares me. I can feel her body burning up against mine. She wraps her arms around my neck to keep herself steady as I walk her to the back of the jet where the bedroom is.
The area consists of a bed, a La-Z-Boy recliner and massage chair, a rug and a television. I place her on the bed.
"I've got to get you out of this dress for you to cool off, Emmy."
She shakes her head fitfully from one side to one. "No, you can't. I'll be fine."
I hold her face gently between my hands and direct her eyes to my worried ones. "You need to get cool, Emmy," I insist. "Don't worry about me taking advantage of you. I've all the time in the world to do that when you're better."
She doesn't protest and I drop a kiss on her feverish forest before sitting her up in the bed so I could pull her dress over her head. She sinks back down onto the bed and huddles on her side, embarrassed even in her feeling so ill.
As much as she is dressed only in her bra and panties and is a beauty to behold, I'm more concerned about getting her fever down.
I leave her shortly to damp some towels in the bathroom next to the bedroom and return to her side. I press the cool material to her forehead and she hisses.
"That feels so good," she murmurs.
"It'll get your fever down," I tell her softly. "I've got painkillers you can also take. When was the last time you ate?"
"Last night," she answers. "I wasn't feeling too good when I woke up this morning."
"And you didn't say anything?"
She doesn't respond. I continue wiping her face, her neck, down her body until I am satisfied she is cool enough.
"I'm going to get you something to eat," I inform her so she doesn't think I've abandoned her.
"Where? Wendy's?" she jokes weakly. "Not even you can pull that off."
"Hmm. We'll see."
I pull the sheet up against her waist, my eyes straying to her small perky breasts which makes my mouth dry so lovely I love it. I tear my gaze away and find her looking at me, her cheeks flushed with more than just fever.
I drop a kiss on her brow and make my way to the galley. Before I could even address how much we want each other, first and foremost is getting her well.
The galley is always stocked with food.