The nurse returned with the ice pack, and Chloe laid it against his neck as she had that first one. She was rewarded with a slight upward curve of her boss’s lips. He lay still, as though savoring the coolness against his neck. As she held the pack in position, she became aware of the fact that her hand was inside his open shirt, so her forearm grazed the burning skin of his chest whenever he inhaled, and his breath tickled her as he exhaled.

Even worse, her kneeling position put her right at face level with the sick man. She could see the way the texture of his skin changed from his jaw where he shaved, to the smooth skin at his temple. She could trace the wave of his hair back over the curve of his ear. She could count the tiny lines radiating from the corner of his eye. It was like being in bed with him.

She jerked back at the thought, letting the cold pack slip down onto his collarbone. He opened his eyes. Now she could see the striations of dark and light gray in his irises. He was frowning, and she guessed he was once again trying to remember who she was.

She dropped her gaze to focus on resettling the ice pack when the doctor walked over to the couch. “All set,” he announced. Chloe started to stand up, but he gestured for her to stay. Then he picked up Trainor’s wrist to check his pulse, frowning at his wristwatch. He muttered something under his breath before he gently placed her boss’s hand back on the sofa.

Much as she wanted to know how the sick man was doing, she didn’t dare presume to ask. She was just a temp, stepping in to help for a few minutes before she went back to canceling his appointments.

But he looked so ill, she couldn’t help feeling a tug of anxiety. After all, he was only human, despite all his money and power. When he was sick, he felt the aches and pains as much as anyone else did. Without thinking, she reached up to stroke his hair away from his face in a gesture of comfort. Despite all these people milling around him, he seemed oddly alone.

She wondered if Teresa would have taken care of him, had they not had a fight. As she tried to imagine the sophisticated brunette’s bedside manner, three men hauling a stretcher rattled through the doorway.

There was a great flurry of activity, which ceased abruptly when Trainor opened his eyes and saw the stretcher. “No!” he said.

“Nathan, your temperature is dangerously high,” Cavill said, leaning over the couch. For the first time, Chloe saw real concern on the doctor’s face. “You need to go to the hospital for tests.”

“No!” her boss said again. “No hospital.”

The doctor and Trainor locked eyes for a long moment. Cavill stood up. “All right, no hospital. But you’re going home in the ambulance because I’m not going to carry you to your car.”

Trainor closed his eyes. “Can walk.”

Cavill laughed. “Like hell you can.” He gestured the orderlies forward.

Chloe extricated herself from the knot of people helping Trainor onto the stretcher. Her boss made an attempt to stand up on his own, but his knees gave way and the orderlies barely caught him before he hit the floor. “Big guy,” one of them noted as they wrestled him onto the wheeled bed.

As they wheeled him toward the door, Chloe started to take her melting ice pack to the kitchen.

“Chloe,” Trainor said. “Come with me. Feels better.”

“What?” Chloe squawked. She looked at the doctor, who was following the gurney. “I’m not a nurse.”

“That’s not a problem,” Cavill said. “I’ll be with him.” He frowned suddenly. “Have you had a flu shot?”

“Yes.” Chloe always got the shot, because she didn’t want to endanger Grandmillie’s health by passing on germs. “What difference does that make?”

“I don’t want to have to worry about you catching what Nathan has.”

She shouldn’t have been so honest. “Am I even allowed to ride in the ambulance?” She was grasping at straws.

The doctor shrugged. “It’s a private ambulance. You can do anything Nathan wants you to.”

“Chloe.” Now Trainor sounded like a CEO as his voice crackled with command.

“Humor him,” Cavill said.

Chloe got a grip on the towel-wrapped pack and trailed after them, making a brief stop at her desk to grab her handbag from the drawer. As they passed Roberta, Chloe cast a pleading glance at the human resources director. Roberta misinterpreted it, saying, “I’ll get Priscilla to cancel the appointments.”

Then she was closed into the executive elevator, whooshing down to the waiting ambulance.

As the big vehicle lurched through the streets of New York, Chloe sat wedged in on one side of Trainor’s stretcher while Cavill sat on the other. Despite the jarring of potholes, her boss had fallen into a fitful sleep.

She had discarded the melted ice pack and was sitting with her hands twisted together on her lap, staring out the back window and wondering where they were going.

Her head jerked around as the doctor spoke. “I don’t believe I’ve met you before. Ben Cavill.” He held out his hand.

“Chloe Russell,” she said, putting her hand in his. “I’m Mr. Trainor’s temporary assistant. Janice has the flu.”

“Who doesn’t these days?” the doctor said. His grip was firm and dry, but his eyes were assessing. Chloe felt like a germ under a microscope. “How long have you been with him?”

“I was assigned yesterday.” Since the doctor had started the conversation, she decided she could ask. “Is he going to be all right? He’s so hot.”