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“Of course. Hurry,” she replied, trying to sound brave.
I darted to the carousel, grabbing our suitcases just before they slipped into the abyss where I couldn’t reach them. I carried them back to Erika, who was leaning against a white support pole, looking pale.
“I have a limo waiting,” I said, nodding towards a suited man holding a placard reading Mrs. and Mrs. Elliott in marker. It was a playful joke, and I saw the smile tug at Erika’s lips.
“For the future?” she asked, her eyes brightening despite her discomfort.
“Yes,” I replied, hoping the idea would cheer her up. “It has a nice ring to it, doesn’t it?”
Her face fell. “Lincoln, I have to throw up again.”
I dropped the bags at the feet of the limo driver and guided Erika out through the oversized revolving door. She retched on the sidewalk, her discomfort drawing curious glances from passersby.
“Maybe we should get you a bag for the ride to the hotel,” I suggested, gently rubbing her back.
“I’ll be okay,” she said, her voice hoarse from vomiting. “I don’t think I have anything left.”
“I think we can safely say you’re sick,” I said, trying to offer a smile.
“I have to agree. Why now?” she moaned.
The limo driver joined us on the sidewalk, leaving the bags with us while he went to fetch the car. When he returned, he loaded our suitcases into the long black stretch limo and held the door open for us. Inside, the cool air hit us, but Erika, still wearing her sweater, shivered.
I placed my hand on her forehead and frowned. She was burning up with heat.
“You have a fever,” I said, concern etched into my voice.
“I have the chills. Can the driver shut off the air conditioner?” she asked, her teeth chattering slightly.
I made the request and cracked a window open as we pulled into traffic. The ride to the hotel would take fifteen minutes—every second felt like an eternity. I wanted to get Erika to bed as quickly as possible so she could rest and hopefully recover from whatever was plaguing her.
“Lincoln?” Erika’s voice was raspy, barely more than a whisper. “I’m so thirsty.”
As soon as we entered the suite, I shut off the air conditioner and slid open the door to our private pool area. The heat from the day surged into the room, making it uncomfortable for me, but I didn’t care. I was drenched in sweat, still in the heavy jeans and sweater I’d worn from New York, but my focus was entirely on Erika. She was curled up under the covers, still in the same clothes she’d worn that morning. In hindsight, I wondered if she’d been feeling off when she got out of bed earlier and had tried to ignore it.
“I’ve got plenty of choices for you,” I said, moving to retrieve something from the kitchenette.
Before we left, I’d asked the concierge to send up a variety of drinks—Gatorade, juice, and water. They’d been prompt, and within ten minutes of arriving, a waiter had delivered the order. I loaded the drinks into the refrigerator, glancing at the bottle of Dom Perignon we wouldn’t be using.
I brought Erika a bottle of orange Gatorade and helped her sit up, holding it to her lips. She felt warmer now, a stark contrast to the hour before. Rest and some aspirin were just what she needed.
“Sip it slowly, or you’ll make yourself sick again,” I instructed gently.
“My stomach feels better,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “I’m not sure what this is.”
“You’ve been working non-stop,” I replied. “It was only a matter of time before your body said ‘enough.’”
She managed a weak smile, which made my heart clench. “It’s because you keep me up at night.”
“Correction,” I teased, “we keep each other up. Don’t put this all on me, you little vixen.”
“You’re right,” she croaked, a hint of good humor in her tone. “I’m sorry I ruined our first vacation together.”
“You didn’t ruin anything,” I said, leaning in to kiss her forehead. “I’m here with the one I love. Spending New Year’s in this hotel room with you is perfectly fine. As long as we’re together, that’s all that matters.”
She handed me the Gatorade and sank back into her pillow. “Do you want to sleep?” I asked softly.
“Yes, please,” she murmured, exhaustion thick in her voice.
