Best Man for the Wedding Planner - Page 15

“You should have gone home hours ago,” Dan said quietly, sitting on the edge of the bed. Her eyes were closed, and she sighed when his fingers grazed some hair off her face and tucked it behind her ear. The simple touch was incredibly soothing.

“Are you going back to the dance?” she asked, her breath deepening. “You’re the best man. You should go back.”

“Sure,” he replied, but his voice sounded far away. “You just get some rest.”

Her breathing started to deepen... The bed was just so comfortable, and even though she was still shivering, she was far cozier. “You’re the last person who should be looking after me,” she murmured.

“I know.”

His voice was soft. Not quite accepting. Resigned? Her heart ached at the thought. Regret seeped through her, knowing she hadn’t been fair to him all those years ago. She’d hurt him, deeply. For good reasons, but it didn’t erase the result.

“About when I left, Dan...”

“Not now. Get some sleep. You need it.”

She felt the bed lighten as he got up, heard a door open and then close again. Then she heard nothing at all as she fell into sleep.

* * *

Dan wiped a hand over his face and watched Adele shift beneath the covers, still sleeping.

He’d spent the night on the cramped little sofa in the sitting area of his room, with a spare blanket from the closet. He hadn’t really minded; despite his conflicting feelings for Adele, she was definitely sick and had fought to hang on throughout the day, like a complete professional.

Seeing her start to collapse in the lobby had sent his heart to his throat. He’d just caught her before she crumpled to the floor, and then lifted her into his arms. It had been a bittersweet sensation, holding her close like that. It brought back memories, good ones. When they were younger and silly and so full of each other. She hadn’t really changed, either. She fit in his embrace just as easily as she had all those years ago.

He hadn’t gone back to the reception. He’d been genuinely worried about her fever. She’d been burning up, and weak enough that she’d fainted. Leaving her alone had seemed cold and unfeeling, so instead he’d gone into the bathroom, taken a long, hot shower, pulled on a pair of sweats and tried to get some sleep. Her sneezing woke him a few times in the night, as well as some random mumblings he couldn’t make out. The talking in her sleep was a new development, and he’d fought to understand the garbled words. He’d come up blank, though. She’d been pretty incoherent.

He still wasn’t sure what meeting up with her again was supposed to mean. Closure? Maybe. He certainly hadn’t been able to make a relationship stick since she’d left. Wouldn’t it be something to be able to get some answers to his questions and finally leave her behind him?

She mumbled in her sleep again and his brow furrowed. This didn’t feel like closure. It felt messy.

He ordered up some breakfast and dressed in jeans and a sweater. Today was a wedding party “tea” off-site, very casual, and a way to wind down the celebration before Pete and Holly left for their holiday in Jamaica. By then, he’d probably have Adele back home and he could say goodbye.

The thought left him feeling oddly bereft.

A knock at the door announced room service, and once the cart was delivered and he’d tipped the server, Adele began to stir. She’d been asleep for nearly twelve hours.

“Dan?” Her voice was raspy. She pushed her hair out of her face and sat up a bit. “Was that the door?”

“I ordered some breakfast.”

“What time is it?”

“Half-past ten.”

She still held the covers close. “I slept all the way through.”

“You did.” He poured her some orange juice, took it to her and then sat on the bed. “Here. Drink this.” As she sipped from the glass, he touched her forehead. Still hot, though perhaps not quite as hot as last night. The sleep had done her good.

“That’s so good,” she said, finishing the glass of juice. She shivered. “I don’t know why I’m still so cold.”

“Because you’re not well yet. You’re just...better.” She didn’t look better, though. Her eye makeup from yesterday was smudged, and her hair was puffed up on one side. But the glassy look was gone from her eyes, at least.

“I should get going...”

She went to pull back the covers, but he was sitting on them. “There’s no need to rush. I ordered you some tea and toast. Scrambled eggs, too, if you want some.”

She laughed, and then started to cough a little. “You and your eggs.”

Tags: Donna Alward Billionaire Romance
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