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If she’d slept completely through to Sunday . . . well, Santé was going to be pissed.
She looked over at the pile of medication on her nightstand in confusion. Where had all of that come from? She didn’t have that much stuff, did she? Jilly was pretty sure she’d used most of her cold medicine the last time she’d been sick.
Unfortunately, she didn’t have the best immune system. Probably because she’d been stuck in this house most of her childhood and hadn’t been exposed to enough germs to build up her immunity.
Something else to blame on her father.
She pushed herself up so she was standing. Right as the door to her bedroom opened. Letting out a scream, she stumbled back and fell on her butt.
Ouchie!
“Jilly!” Regent rushed forward. To her shock, rather than just offering her a hand, he reached down and picked her up, cradling her against his chest.
Oh wow. This was nice. And he smelled sooo good. Like sandalwood and something a bit sweet . . . vanilla, maybe?
Whatever it was, it was delicious.
Her stomach actually rumbled slightly. Not that she wanted to eat anything when she felt like she had razorblades in her throat.
Then she realized that if she could smell him, he could no doubt smell her.
And she smelled terrible.
“Put me down,” she said.
Urgh. When was the last time she’d brushed her teeth?
Do not aim your breath at the gorgeous, sexy man holding you like you weigh nothing.
“If I put you down, you’ll fall over,” he told her.
“No, I won’t.”
“You just fell over,” he told her, carrying her back to bed and lying her down.
“That’s because you frightened me when you stormed into my bedroom. Why are you in my bedroom?”
And why was he putting the covers back over her when she’d just gotten up? She needed to pee. And shower. And brush her hair and teeth. At least she’d taken out the pins last night. But it was still in tight braids.
Why was she always such a mess in front of this man? Look at him . . . he was always so put together.
Although . . . he seemed a little bit less put together than usual. He wasn’t wearing a suit jacket. His white shirt was partially undone, allowing her a glimpse of that sexy chest.
His hair was messy; it looked like he had been running his fingers through it. And there were dark marks under his eyes.
“Didn’t you sleep?” she asked hoarsely.
“Not much, no.”
“Why not? And why are you here? What time is it?”
“It’s just after eight in the morning. I’m here because I took care of you last night. I slept in the armchair so I could be close to help you if you needed anything.”
Jilly gaped at him. Her mouth opened. It moved. No sound came out. “What?”
“I need to check the list.”
List? What list?
