‘Why do you want it?’
She had her eyes closed and didn’t look at him when she answered.
‘I think she should stay over tonight.’
‘She lives in Western Australia.’
‘Your friend, then—what’s-her-name.’
She peeled her eyes open and looked at him as if he was joking. ‘No man ever forgets Ruby’s name. She’s in Thailand.’
There was a wistful note in her voice and he paused. ‘Were you supposed to go with her?’
‘I...had to work.’
He shook his head. ‘Who else can I call to take care of you?’
She closed her eyes again, shutting him out. ‘I can take care of myself.’
He poured her tea. ‘Do you take milk?’
‘Black is fine.’
As he handed her the hot tea a compelling bright yellow canvas dotted with tiny blue and purple fey creatures caught his attention on the far wall and he stepped closer. ‘Who did this?’
‘No one famous. Can you please go now?’
He looked at the indecipherable artist’s scrawl in the corner of the canvas and took a stab in the dark. ‘When did you do this?’
‘I don’t remember.’
Liar.
And she hadn’t just wanted to illustrate children’s books either; he’d bet his next race on it.
‘You’re very talented. Do you exhibit?’
‘No. Thank you for the tea, but I don’t want to keep you.’
He heard the cup rattle and turned to find her leaning her head against the back of the chair. She looked even worse than before.
Making one of those split-second decisions he was renowned for on the circuit, he grabbed her suitcase and stalked into her bedroom.
‘What are you doing now?’ she called after him.
‘Packing you some fresh clothes.’
He upended the contents of her case on the bed and then opened her wardrobe door. He was confronted by a dark wall of clothing. He knew she liked black but this was ridiculous. He had no idea where to start.
‘Do you own anything other than black?’
‘It’s a habit.’
So was hiding herself. ‘Never mind.’
‘Why are you packing my things?’ Her voice was closer and he glanced over his shoulder to see her leaning in the doorway. She should be sitting down, but he’d take care of that in a minute.
‘Because you’re coming with me.’
‘No, I’m not.’
He knew he was forcing his will on her, and it totally went against his usually laid-back style, but dammit he just wasn’t prepared to leave her here. What if she got really sick?
Then she’ll call a doctor, lamebrain. And since when have you taken care of anyone other than yourself anyway?
‘It’s stress and lack of sleep,’ she murmured.
‘I can see that. And you’ve hardly eaten all day either. You need a damned keeper.’
‘I’m fine.’
‘Consider this a long overdue holiday.’
‘Don’t you dare go near my underwear drawer!’
‘It’s too late. I know you like sexy lingerie.’
She groaned, and he smiled.
He threw a fistful of brightly coloured underwear into the case, pulled a selection of footwear from her closet and zipped the case closed.
He wheeled it towards her and deftly scooped her up with one arm.
‘I don’t like all this he-man stuff,’ she said, leaning weakly against his chest.
‘Too bad.’ He grabbed her computer satchel and her handbag, slammed her apartment door behind them. ‘My instincts tell me you need someone to take care of you, and I have track practice tomorrow morning I can’t miss.’
Her head dropped against his shoulder. ‘I have to go to work tomorrow. I could get fired.’
‘Everyone’s entitled to a sick day. If you’re okay tomorrow night I’ll fly you back. Anyway, you could get fired for not coming with me. Dexter wants TJ’s business, and TJ wants me. You can tell Dexter you’re working on me.’
He put her down to fish his car keys out of his pocket and then gently deposited her inside the car.
‘I don’t think that’s going to impress him.’
But she rested her head against the car seat and closed her eyes.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
MILLER knew she should probably put up more resistance to his high-handedness but she felt too weak and light-headed. And some deeply held part of herself was insanely pleased by his gesture.