She heard splashing from the open bathroom door and the soothing but authoritative voice of the older man. Which sent her imagination veering into the forbidden zone of what Nathan Trainor would look like without his pajamas on. The soft cotton T-shirt he’d been wearing had stretched taut over some darned impressive pecs and abs, although the loose pants hadn’t revealed much about his legs. Her memory kicked in with those few moments when she’d simply relaxed into his embrace. Warmth sizzled inside her as she remembered how her breasts had been crushed against the solid wall of his chest while his hands roamed over her back.

It had been a long time since she’d been locked against a man’s body. Clearly, too long, since she was fantasizing about her seriously ill boss. It was strangely flattering that he’d turned to her in his delirium.

“Where is he?”

Chloe spun around to see Cavill standing by the bed with a sleek steel case in his hand.

“In the bathroom,” she said. “Tricia’s trying to bring his temperature down with a bath.”

Cavill leaned in to peer at the bank of monitors, grunted, and strode to the bathroom door.

Chloe could hear the doctor’s voice in counterpoint to Tricia’s, in a series of rapid-fire questions and answers.

She went back to her river gazing until her stomach growled. Glancing at her watch, she realized it was lunchtime. Trainor’s penthouse undoubtedly had a kitchen somewhere, but she figured she’d better not leave while the distrustful doctor was around.

There was more splashing and voices. One of the blond gods dashed out, rummaged around in a dresser drawer, and carried what must have been fresh pajamas back into the bathroom. Did Trainor keep random strong men on his staff just in case he got sick?

Cavill interrupted her thoughts as he joined her by the window. “He keeps asking for you.”

“I’m not going in there if he’s naked.”

The doctor raised an eyebrow. “I assumed you’d already . . . ?”

Chloe waited for him to finish and was flabbergasted when he let the question trail off. “Are you implying that I . . . that we . . . ?” She sputtered to a halt. “I met the man for the first time yesterday! At work!”

“Sorry. You seemed to be . . . never mind.” Cavill raised a hand in apology. “I’m worried about him.”

His tie was crooked and his shirt and suit jacket showed large patches of dampness. He’d gotten splashed by his difficult patient. Chloe noted the tension in his jaw and decided to give him a pass on his offensive assumption. “Just so you know, I have a hard-and-fast rule against dating the boss.” A hard lesson she’d learned fast.

Cavill nodded and copied Chloe’s earlier pose, gazing out the window for a long moment before turning back to her. “For some reason, you’re the only person who can calm him when the delirium takes hold. I want you to spend the night here.”

“What! No.” She couldn’t leave Grandmillie alone overnight. She’d have a knot of worry in her chest the entire time. “That’s not in my job description.”

“You’re Mr. Trainor’s assistant, aren’t you?” the doctor said.

“I’m a temp, not a nurse.”

“I’ll authorize triple overtime pay.”

An involuntary mental estimate made her sigh at turning down such a hefty sum. “More money isn’t going to change my mind. I have responsibilities at home.”

The gathering frustration on Cavill’s face cleared, and he waved a hand in dismissal. “What do you need? A babysitter? A chauffeur? I can arrange all that.”

Grandmillie would have a fit if some stranger showed up to stay with her. She insisted that she was perfectly capable of taking care of herself, even though Chloe had begun to worry that it wasn’t true. “Look, my eighty-six-year-old grandmother lives with me, and I never leave her alone overnight.”

“No wonder you don’t date your boss,” Cavill said with an amused edge in his voice. “I’ll send a health aide to keep her company.”

“That won’t work. Grandmillie is very independent.” Chloe hesitated, not sure how to explain how ticked off her grandmother would be.

“I understand.” He really seemed to, because his expression softened. “I wouldn’t ask you to do this if Nathan weren’t so ill. His fever is spiking to dangerous levels, and he could hurt himself during a hallucination.”

“But he’s got you and all kinds of other staff members.”

Cavill locked his blue eyes on her. “He needs you.”

Chloe hesitated. Having a CEO need her was truly bizarre.

“You can give your grandmother my twenty-four-hour emergency number,” the doctor said. “If she needs medical care, I can get it to her faster than you can.”

She glanced at the enormous bed, its rich wood frame and leather inlays contrasting with the high-tech monitors arrayed around it, and realized Cavill was right. “If Grandmillie agrees, I’ll stay.”

The doctor ignored her qualifying statement and went into organizational mode. “I’ll get a bed brought in for you.” Cavill pulled a prescription pad out of his pocket and scrawled a couple of phone numbers on it before tearing off the sheet. “Here’s my emergency contact number and the number here at Nathan’s. Someone always answers the phone here.”

“Which one, Romulus or Remus?” Chloe muttered, accepting the paper.