Holding Strong

“To answer your question, no, this isn’t it.” He set the juice on the nightstand before giving her a direct look.

Complaints disappeared under his scrutiny. “It isn’t?”

“Not by a long shot.”

“Oh.” A million questions came to her at once, but Denver spoke before she had decided where to start.

“Armie is picking up more juice. You need to stay hydrated. How’s your belly?”

“Fine.” She wasn’t nauseous, thank God. “Well, unless I move too fast.”

He cupped the back of her neck and looked into her eyes. “Head still hurt?”

“Some.” Growing in intensity, but she really didn’t want to come off as whiny. It was bad enough that tears kept pricking her eyes.

“What else?” When she didn’t immediately answer—what woman wanted to spend her first night with the man of her dreams by complaining?—he used both hands to hold her face. “You’re right, I’m not a doctor. But I’ve learned a lot from Dad, and from the sport.”

“The sport?”

“Sure. Fighters have to know their own bodies well enough to stay healthy. So quit stalling. Your head, your throat. I’m guessing your chest with that cough. What else?”

She didn’t think he’d let it go, so she admitted the truth. “Pretty much everything.”

“Body aches?”

She nodded. “And my eyes burn.” Maybe that’d be a good excuse for the tears.

“That’s probably from the fever. Soon as Armie gets back we’ll get some meds in you.” Once more his thumb teased over her bottom lip and he let out a pent-up breath. “I’m so damn sorry.”

“You didn’t make me sick.”

“I also didn’t pay close enough attention to realize you weren’t feeling well.”

She hadn’t paid enough attention, either. At the time, with Denver touching and kissing her, she’d been focused only on feeling. “You thought I was drunk.”

“I worried about it, yeah. I didn’t want to take advantage of you.”

Talking hurt her throat, but she still had to say it. “When I had to practically beg you?”

His eyes narrowed in thought. “You should have told me, you know.”

“I didn’t realize—” she started to say.

“Shh.” He kissed her forehead, softening his rebuke. “Don’t lie to me, Cherry. Ever.”

How could he so easily make her feel guilty? She bit her lip. “Well...”

“There’s no way you couldn’t have known you were getting sick.”

True enough—to a point. “I didn’t feel well, but—” She coughed some more, then had to bite back a groan at the radiating discomfort.

Denver supported her, rubbing her back until she’d quieted again.

Holding on to him, she drew a careful breath. “I didn’t know I’d be this bad,” she wheezed. “Honest. I wouldn’t have risked getting you sick.”

“I’m not worried about that.” He helped her resettle in the bed. “But why didn’t you tell me?”

She started to again bite her lip, but when his gaze focused on her mouth, she stopped herself. In a hoarse whisper, she said, “It’s embarrassing.”

As if her embarrassment didn’t factor into things, he shook his head. “I need you to always be honest with me, Cherry, no matter what.”

It irked her, this persistence that she might not be truthful. “I’m not a liar.”

“No. But there are layers of honesty.” Firm, he tilted his head to stare into her eyes. “I have to have one hundred percent.”

“Fine.” Though she felt like death warmed over, she lifted her chin. “I was afraid if I told you, you’d use it as an excuse to walk away.”

His piercing gaze softened at her admission. “Am I walking away?”

“No.” And it confused her so much. “But I don’t know why not.”

He took her hand. “You think I’d walk out on you when you’re so ill?”

She didn’t want his pity. “If that’s the only reason you’re staying—”

“It’s not.”

“Oh.” With her eyes gritty and her head throbbing, she could barely stay upright. She persisted anyway, drawing in a slow breath to keep from coughing. “Long as we’re being honest, why did you ignore me?”

For the longest time he stared down at their clasped hands and she felt the tumult of his thoughts, his resistance and even a sort of muted resentment.

She got nervous, dreading what he might say. It had been tough to take his unspoken rejections on good days. Being wretchedly sick, this was not a good day. But if she cried in front of him, she’d just die.

Finally he lifted his head. The piercing focus of his attention unnerved her. “Mostly I avoided you because I wanted you too fucking much.”

Wow. Never had she expected that. How did that even make sense?

“The way you smell,” he murmured, dipping his nose to her temple and inhaling. “The way you look. How you laugh and the bounce of your hair, your tits, that amazing ass...”

She gulped. His tone was gritty, almost raw, and she couldn’t think of a reply except to say, “Oh,” again.

“Every time you’d get near me, hell, even in the same room, I could smell you.”

“That’s...unsettling.”

“You smell good, girl. So fucking good.” Keeping her pinned in his gaze, uncaring about her mute surprise, he continued. “You know you’re stacked. There’s no way you could not know. But I’ve known plenty of built women.”

She scowled, making her head protest with ramped up pain.

“But they aren’t you. It’s the combo, I think. Your bod, your attitude—which drove me nuts, by the way.”

In a croak, she asked, “My attitude?”

“Party girl,” he accused. “Tease.”

Despite being ill, her shoulders stiffened. “I am not—”

“You tease every guy who gets near you.”

Her gasp choked her, making it impossible to protest. She did not tease. How dare he—

“You do,” he stated, “even if you don’t mean to.” Working his jaw, his gaze went over her body, his hands following suit until he clasped her hips. “You have no idea how it affected me.”

If it got him to this point—in bed with her—then she’d accept the blame.

“I hate to admit it, but that’s probably why I went overboard.” His voice dropped. “Swear to God, girl, if you weren’t sick I’d be inside you right now.”

Her eyes widened on a startled breath, and of course that set off a spate of coughing again.

Denver pulled her against his hard chest, cradling her gently. “Easy now.” She’d only barely gotten her air back when he added, “I’m betting I’ve wanted this longer than you have. So damn long, I was going nuts. Then to finally give in—”

Give in? What did that even mean?

“That’s not an excuse for pushing you so hard, but fact is, you do it for me. Around you, I stay so primed it’s almost agonizing.”

Ducking her face against him, Cherry said, “That’s exactly how I felt, too. As to you pushing me...” She shivered, remembering. “I liked it.”

She felt his smile when he kissed her temple. “I know you did. But you’ll like it more when you’re feeling like yourself.” Almost as an afterthought, he added, “There’s still a lot I want to do to you.”

Oh Lord. Not with her, but to her? How was she supposed to breathe normally when he said things like that?

For Denver, it sounded like everything was sexual. It thrilled her to finally make some headway—but what she felt was so much more.

He rubbed his hand down her back toward her bottom—but stopped short. “Soon as you’re well, we’ll try this all again.” His lips teased her ear, and he whispered, “When you can take it, I’ll make you beg.”

Wow. As unnerving as that sounded, she could hardly wait.

His fist under her chin tipped up her burning face. “Far as I’m concerned, there’s no end date in sight.” He searched her eyes, then focused on her mouth. “You okay with that?”

She’d been hung up on Denver Lewis from the day she’d laid eyes on him and every day since she’d fallen harder. If he asked her to marry him right now, she’d probably say yes.

Instead, he wanted unlimited sex, and the answer was still a resounding, “Yes.”

“Good.” He tucked her hair back, then leaned away to see her body. “You’re shivering again.”

With nervousness, excitement, and yes, fever. The way he’d cooled her down had helped, but not for long.

He pulled off his shirt—a treat no matter how sick she might be—and kicked off his shoes, then crawled into bed beside her and hugged her up to his warm chest. “Better?”

Heavenly. “Yes.”

“Doze off if you want.” Stretching out his long legs and then reaching for the remote, he got comfortable with the TV on low. “I’ll wake you when Armie gets back.”

Tired as she was, she didn’t think she’d be able to sleep. Not with her head feeling like it might explode off her body and her throat getting scratchier by the second. “Could we chat some more?” By chat, she meant her resting against him while he shared details of his life.

“About what?”

So many things. “Tell me about your family.”

“Already did. Dad’s a doctor.”

The way he summed that up, to the point of being curt, made her wonder. Did he have a bad relationship with his dad? “You mentioned a stepmother?”

“Yeah. Dad remarried years ago.”

Curling up next to him, her cheek on his bare chest, his arm around her, felt more comforting than meds ever could. The heat of his body seemed to permeate her aching muscles, and his scent wrapped around her. When she rested a hand over his abdomen, the incredible muscles there tightened. “How old were you?”

“Nineteen.” Covering her hand with his own, he moved his thumb over her knuckles. “You are so soft.”

Changing the subject again? “You like your stepmother?”

Silence stretched out while Denver played with her fingers. She didn’t rush him. If he chose not to answer, she’d let it go.

She knew all about family issues better kept private.

Then he said, “Dad loves her. I figure that’s what’s important.”

She turned her face up to see him. “You don’t get along with her?” Given Denver was so wonderful, she couldn’t imagine anyone not loving him.

Again, he took his time thinking. Finally he pinched the bridge of his nose and muttered, “It’s complicated.” After a quick hug and a kiss on the top of her head, he promised, “We’ll have plenty of time to talk when you’re feeling better. It’s late. You should sleep.”

She didn’t want to, but lethargy pulled at her. Soon as Denver tucked the sheet around her, she felt herself slipping away.

Sometime later, more sluggish than ever, she woke to whispering and realized Armie was back. While trying to orient herself, she heard a low, angry conversation on relatives.

If anything, she felt worse now, bad enough that she didn’t even care what they talked about. Pulling the covers over her head, she groaned, “Thanks Armie. Now go away please.”

He didn’t leave, of course. In fact, she sensed when both men came to loom over her. The testosterone ramped up enough to strangle her.

Armie crouched down by her shrouded head. “How you feelin’, doll?”

She curled a little tighter to ensure he wouldn’t unwrap her. “Bad enough I don’t want anyone to see me.”

A big, warm hand settled on her shoulder—Armie.

She was still adjusting to the impact of that when another hand settled on her hip—Denver.

Good Lord.

Her heart almost stopped. Were they trying to kill her with their combined machismo?

One large, hunky guy focused on her was enough. The two combined left her shivering with awareness. Though she wanted only Denver, they were both studs and she wasn’t used to anything even close to this. Beneath the concealing covers, she squeezed her eyes shut—and since she had no idea what to do, she played possum.

Until both men’s hands sympathetically squeezed, rubbed...

Surprise wrought a groan that ended in a rasping cough.

“Move,” she heard Denver say, and a second later he’d pulled the covers to her waist, leaving her hideous hair and smudged makeup exposed. At least they’d kept the lights low, giving her shadows to hide in.

Denver helped her to sit up while giving her a drink of cold juice.

She needed the drink—but he’d pulled the sheet so low that snatching it back up seemed her first priority. Once she’d preserved her modesty, she accepted the drink.

So very aware of Armie standing there, taking it all in, seeing her in such a mess, she wanted to wither. But the juice eased the pain of her throat so she ignored her awful embarrassment and drank it all.

When she’d finished, Denver smoothed down her hair. “Let’s get you started on some meds.”

She seriously hated being babied so much. Never, ever, had she been the center of so much attention. “I can do it. You should go home with Armie.”

Grinning at her, Armie said, “Damn, Cherry, way to insult a guy.”

Tone level but uncompromising, Denver said, “I’m not going anywhere.” He opened two different pill bottles and some cough medicine.

“You don’t need to be stuck here.”

This time Armie shook his head and, deliberately provoking, said to Denver, “Women.”

“We already settled this,” Denver said as he handed the pills to Cherry. “Can you swallow them?”

“Yes.” But man, it hurt getting them down. Soon as she finished, he held up the tiny medicine cup of cough liquid.

That went down easier and didn’t even taste too awful. Pulling the covers tight around herself again, her vision a little muzzy, she asked, “What time is it?”

“It’ll be dawn soon,” Denver told her.

“I was gone an hour,” Armie told her. “Sorry about that. The store wasn’t quite as close as I’d figured.”

“Thanks.” She started to recline again.

Denver caught her shoulders. “I want to take your temperature.”

“Can she hold the thermometer in her mouth?” Armie asked.

Denver grinned, but Cherry choked on a gasp then coughed hard enough that she dropped the sheet and covered her mouth.

And still she tried to curse Armie, assuring him that there was no way—

“He’s teasing, girl. Calm down.”

“Not funny,” she managed to croak around broken breaths and a lot of glassy-eyed glaring.

Concern brought Armie’s brows together. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to cause all that.”

She wiped her watering eyes and concentrated on carefully catching her breath.

Coming closer, Armie stepped around Denver and felt her head again. “You sure she doesn’t have pneumonia?”

This was all too weird. No one would ever mistake Denver Lewis or Armie Jacobson for nurses. Big, muscular, macho guys should never tend the sick, especially not in freaking pairs.

Having them both try to pamper her at the same time was like an overdose of fantasy—only she’d never even dared fantasize anything that unreal.

How was she supposed to deal with it?

When Armie’s warm palm remained on her forehead, Cherry leaned out of his reach. He looked surprised until he took in her expression, then he grinned and winked at her, all in all being far too familiar when she looked and felt as she did and clearly wasn’t up to bantering with him.

Shaking the thermometer, Denver said, “Can’t know for sure but I doubt it. You know something’s been making the rounds.” He turned, waited for Cherry to open, and slipped the thermometer under her tongue. “If her fever gets too high, I’ll run her to the hospital to be safe.”

How dare they make plans without her input? Around the thermometer she said, “No hospital.”

“Not yet anyway,” Denver agreed, tapping the bottom of her chin as a reminder to keep her lips closed.

“Somehow,” Armie remarked, “it doesn’t seem as bad when it’s a dude who’s sick.”

“I know.”

“Sexist,” she muttered, then slumped against the headboard.

While waiting the requisite time to get a temperature reading, they both watched her far too closely, making her almost squirm. She wore only a T-shirt and panties, in a bed, in a hotel room—and she had two megahunks focused on her.

The upside to this whole awful scenario would be telling her girlfriends, Yvette, Rissy, Harper and Vanity about it. She just knew they’d love the details and would embellish some for laughs.

They might even envy her...since they didn’t actually have to suffer it.

Finally Denver deemed it time to take the thermometer from her mouth, and she collapsed back in the bed, pulling the sheet to her chin. He held it under the bedside lamp to read it, then with a frown told Armie, “A little over 101.”

Well. No wonder she felt like crap.

“Damn.” Armie checked the time. “I’d give it an hour and check again. If the meds haven’t brought it down by then—”

“Yeah.” Denver glanced at her, but said in an aside to Armie, “I’ll take care of it.”

Pigheaded men. She could damn well decide if she needed the hospital. Right now, though, all she wanted to do was hide, so she pulled the blankets over her head.

She heard Denver say low, “She’s going to suffocate herself. You better go.”

“You don’t need anything else?”

“Got it covered.”

“All right, then.” Voices dropped more, moved farther away, and Armie said quietly, “You’ll let me know if anything else happens?”

“Yeah. But I’ll keep a close eye out, so don’t sweat it.”

A close eye out for what? Cherry lowered the sheet enough to see both men standing by the open door.

Armie half stepped out. “Think you’ll be back at the rec center tomorrow?”

“Depends on how she feels in the morning.” When Denver glanced back at her, she quickly closed her eyes, and he said to Armie, “I’ll call in and let you know.”

“I hate for her to go through that long drive home if she’s not up to it.”

If she’d had the strength, Cherry would have set Armie straight. She wasn’t a frail little girl—but at the moment, she sure felt like one.

“I know,” Denver agreed. “If it is the current bug, she should feel a little better tomorrow. Not as feverish anyway.”

“But still wiped out.” Armie hesitated before saying, “You had, what? A kids’ class and then your turn at the self-defense for women?”

“Intermediates at five-thirty, then the women at seven-thirty.”

Oh wow, Cherry thought. He wasn’t getting any sleep, and then he’d have all that way to drive, his own workout to do, then two classes... Guilt made her feel even lower. All the guys pitched in at the rec center. It was sort of a tradeoff for getting to use the place, being able to mix and mingle with the better established fighters that visited Cannon on occasion, but also because they were close friends with Cannon and enjoyed pitching in.

Armie said, “Why don’t I just cover for you?”

“You’re coming off a tourney,” Denver reminded him.

“So?”

“You sure you’re up for it?”

“Now you’re just trying to piss me off.”

Denver laughed. “All right, sure. Thanks.”

More was said, but Cherry couldn’t hear it all, and then the door lock clicked and she knew Denver was returning to her. Curious as to what he’d do, she opened her eyes and watched him.

“Medicine kicking in yet?”

She took stock of her body, realized she wasn’t trembling as badly, and nodded. “I think so.”

He smiled down at her. “You look drowsy.”

She knew how she looked and she didn’t want to talk about it. “Will you come back to bed?”

“Yeah. We both need some sleep.”

Without a single care, he stripped off his clothes, even taking off his boxers.

Watching him, her eyes went wide, then wider still when he turned to fold everything on a chair. Figured he’d sleep naked, which added to her torment since she wasn’t up to taking advantage of that hot bod. His muscled butt was a thing of beauty. And his wide, strong back and shoulders made her sigh.

Apparently he heard her wistful sigh because he glanced back at her. “No coughing. That’s good.”

She just might be too stunned by his nudity to cough.

Turning to face her, Denver said, “You don’t mind?”

Seeing him in the raw? Heck no. She shook her head while letting her gaze track all over him.

“Give me five minutes and I’ll join you.” He picked up his overnight bag and disappeared into the bathroom. She heard running water and the sounds of him brushing his teeth.

That made her feel extra funky, and as soon as he finished she dragged herself out of the bed. Even knowing she walked like an ancient zombie, she couldn’t move any faster.

Denver took her arm and helped her to the small john. He tipped up her chin. “If you need me, let me know.”

“Thanks.” She closed the door on him. It took the last of her reserves but she washed off her destroyed makeup, brushed her teeth, used the john, and knew she had no energy left for dealing with the impossible mess of her hair.

Denver was right there when she opened the door and he scooped her up and carried her to the bed. Once he had her tucked in, he turned out the lights and scooted in behind her, drawing her close. He slid one arm under her head, the other around her, under her T-shirt and over one breast. “Okay?”

His massive fists had knockout power, but right now his open palm and long fingers were so gentle it left her awed. “Yes.”

He kissed her shoulder. “Sleep. I’ll wake you when you need to take more meds.”

Relishing his nearness, she closed her eyes and faded away.

CHAPTER FIVE

DENVER HELD HER as she slept restlessly until bright sunshine shone through the curtains. An hour or so ago, he’d gotten up to cool her down again, to give her meds and get her to drink. He knew she needed time, rest and meds more than anything, and somehow he’d see that she got it.

He hadn’t slept much, but then, she was so sick, and he felt so damn guilty, it was a wonder he could relax at all. Thanks to his colossal ego, and yeah, pent-up lust for her, he’d pushed her hard, making her come again and again. That hadn’t helped her.

It definitely hadn’t helped him any, because now that he knew the feel of her, the sounds she made in her pleasure, how she clenched all around him, he couldn’t stop thinking about doing it all again.

He rubbed a hand over his face, then got himself together.

She was with him, thank God, not alone. When he considered his own stubbornness, how he’d almost let her go back to her room alone, it made him want to kick his own ass. Right now she needed someone.

He wanted that someone to be him.

Luckily he had time to spare, and though he hated to see her feeling so poorly and would have spared her if he could, he’d enjoy caring for her.

First thing was cancelling their checkout.

He slipped from the bed without disturbing her, then just stood there looking down at her.

During the night when her fever had broken, she’d turned to her back, one hand up above her head, the other resting over her middle.

The sheet and blanket were now down to her knees.

Torture.

She had the sweetest, curviest little body he’d ever seen.

And those panties... They were mostly a strip of lace over the front, a thong in the back, and they made him hazy with churning lust.

Making himself turn away, Denver picked up his clothes and slipped into the bathroom to dress and shave. Shaving was a concession for her delicate skin. He rarely bothered anymore, except when meeting with clients through his work as an accountant. But since making the SBC, he’d cut way back on that—and on shaving. Now he only had a few longtime clients he continued to work with.

After brushing his teeth, he finger-combed his long hair and stepped out again.

Cherry hadn’t stirred. Her badly mussed blond curls spilled out over the pillow. Sunlight cut across her face and even sick and without makeup, she looked beautiful, her skin creamy, her lips full and soft.

If he didn’t have a fight rolling up, he wouldn’t mind spending an entire week at the hotel with her.

Just the two of them.

Most of their time spent in bed. Or the shower. Hell, he’d enjoy bending her over the desk so he could appreciate that spectacular ass even more.