“Yes.” She grabbed the paperback and flipped it open to the bookmarked page. “Best faced Pasternak across the table in the interrogation room. Pasternak looked at his watch. ‘You’ve got two minutes to make up your mind.’ Best smiled. ‘I don’t need two minutes.’ Pasternak waited. Best kept smiling. Pasternak finally spoke. ‘Your smile irritates me. I’ll have Smeltin start with pulling out all your—’”

An electronic alarm shrilled, making Chloe drop the book in a flutter of pages. The nurse muttered something under her breath as she checked one of the screens.

“What’s going on?” Chloe asked as the alarm vibrated through her skull and her pulse raced with fear. She checked Trainor’s chest to make sure it was still rising and falling.

“His temperature is spiking,” Tricia said, hitting a button that silenced the alarm. “We need to bring it down, stat.”

“I can make ice packs. Do you know where the kitchen is?” Chloe rocketed out of her chair.

“A lukewarm bath will work better.” Tricia pointed to a door across the room. “The bathroom’s there. Run the water at room temperature, and I’ll call for some help to move him.”

Trainor was plucking at the hem of his T-shirt. “My clothes! On fire!”

Tricia clasped Trainor’s wrists. “Mr. Trainor, remain calm. We’ll get your clothes off. You’ll be fine.”

“Burning!” Trainor shouted as Chloe started toward the bathroom. “Get the temp!”

Chloe spun back toward her temporary boss. He had pulled his hands out of Tricia’s grasp and was tearing at his shirt.

“Try to calm him down,” Tricia said. “I’m going to disconnect the IV before he pulls it out.”

Chloe approached the bed. Trainor had kicked the sheets off. She had no idea what she should do. “Mr. Trainor, I’m here. What can I do to help?”

He stared down at his pajama pants with a look of horror. He stopped yanking on his shirt and began to swat at his legs. “Put it out!”

Tricia was trying to catch the arm with the IV in it, but Trainor continued to flail wildly. Panic clutched at Chloe’s throat. She needed to get his attention. What was his first name? “Nathan!” she shouted, grabbing his wrist and clinging to it as if her life depended on it. “You have to hold still!”

Whether in shock or obedience, Trainor let her stop his flailing. Tricia swiftly removed the IV and slapped on a bandage. “Keep him quiet while I get the bath going and make that call.”

He began to tear at his shirt again. She put one palm on either side of Trainor’s scorching-hot head and turned his face toward her as she leaned in close. “I’m the temp. I’m here.”

Chloe found herself nose to nose with the hallucinating CEO of a multibillion-dollar corporation. She was half lying across his chest and could feel the heat of his fever searing through her silk blouse. She eased the pressure of her hands against his head, sliding them down to rest on his shoulders so she could push herself upright.

“No,” he said, his arms coming around her back and crushing her down against him so her face was smashed into his shoulder.

She gave an experimental push to see if he would release her, but instead his hold tightened. “Mr. Trainor, please,” she begged, turning her head. He had a chest like a steel plate, and his arms felt like cables tying her down. She could hear his heart beating at a frantic rate. “I can’t breathe,” she gasped.

“You stopped the fire,” he said.

Chloe went limp, since struggling seemed to make him press even harder. Despite his feverish strength, she felt an odd sense of security as she lay against his heated body; his grasp was persuasive, not threatening. He simply wanted her to stay.

“It’s my heart,” he said.

“Your heart hurts?” Could he be having a heart attack?

“No, the asinine bet.”

“You bet on something?” Relief and embarrassment flooded her as she heard the door open. Tricia had gotten help. Chloe hoped it wasn’t the disapproving Dr. Cavill. Being caught half in bed with Trainor wouldn’t improve the doctor’s opinion of her.

“Okay, Chloe, you can get up now.” Tricia’s voice came from behind her.

“He won’t let go,” Chloe said, trying again to squirm free.

An older man with dark-brown hair graying at the temples, dressed in a navy-blue suit, moved into her line of sight. Giving her a quizzical look, he said, “Nathan, your office is on the line. You need to speak with Janice.”

The bands across her back loosened as she heard Trainor mutter, “My office.”

“The phone is in the bathroom,” the older man said. “Come with me and I’ll show you.”

“The phone,” Trainor muttered, his arms falling away from her.

Chloe righted herself and took a hasty step back from the bed. She wasn’t giving Trainor a chance to change his mind. “Thank you,” she said, inhaling deeply.

“My pleasure,” the gentleman said before he turned toward Trainor again. “Let me give you a hand.” He slid an arm behind the CEO’s back and eased him into a sitting position before two muscular blond men in khakis and matching polo shirts stepped up to the bed. They got Trainor on his feet, supporting him as he staggered across the room, with Tricia leading the way and the man in the suit following behind.

Chloe blew out a breath and walked over to the window to stare at the Hudson River rolling on its oblivious way. No one had commented on her full-body contact with her boss, thank goodness.