Authors: London Saint James
Eternal (14 page)
My stomach lurched and churned. I lunged
forward, losing the entire contents into the toilet and continuing until there
was nothing left but heaving with more heaving dry and painful. I rested my too
hot cheek against the cool porcelain seat and closed my eyes. Trying hard to
make the room stop spinning. After a few minutes, I pulled myself up. I was
weak and knew for sure I was burning hot with fever. I splashed some cool water
over my face, rinsed out my mouth then pushed fully forward with brushing my
teeth and tongue free from the sickening taste. The mint of the toothpaste set
my stomach to churn more, but I knew there was nothing left to give up.
I shuffled my bare feet forward and left the
tiled floor of the bathroom behind. Warm soft carpet greeted me. I saw the
welcome scene of the bed. I knew I needed to curl up beneath the sheets and
die. Cayden turned over, threw his arm out, and obviously felt I was not next
to him. He opened his eyes, saw me standing there weak and shivering. I
imagined I was as pale as milk.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, shooting straight up
and reaching for my hand.
I mumbled quite pathetically, “Cayden, I’m
sick.”
He towed me into his arms and placed his lips to
my forehead. “You are burning up.”
“I don’t want you to get sick. Let me lie here
and die. You should leave.”
“Baby, I am not leaving you. I’m so sorry you’re
sick. It was the rain and the cold. You should not have been out on the balcony
in
You need to take better care of yourself when I am gone. Why were you standing
out in the rain?”
“I went outside to get some air, to think and
I….”
“You weren’t worried about Cheryl Lynn again?
What is it going to take to convince you I cannot leave you, and I don’t want
any other woman? I only see you.”
Cayden held me close to his chest. I buried my
burning face into the cool feeling of his arms. “No, I was worrying about you,”
I admitted.
“Worrying about what?”
“
Lynn. All I could think about was losing you. I can’t lose you, Cayden.”
I began to cry.
“Shh…love, please.” Cayden’s voice was soft and
comforting. His hands made slow soothing circles on my back. “I could really
kill
“Cayden, promise me you will take Jayden with
you and Langdon today. Take both of them. Don’t go out with only one bodyguard
anymore. Please promise me, promise.” I sobbed frantically.
“Baby, please calm down, don’t cry. Everything
will be all right.”
“Promise me, Cayden. Take them both today when
you go.”
“Winter, my love. Listen to me. I am not going
anywhere today. You are sick so I’m going to take care of you.”
“No, you have another interview today. You can’t
stay here with me.”
Cayden lifted my face up from his arm. He was
looking at me with resolution. “I’m not leaving you.” I shivered. “Are you
cold? I know you have a fever, I can feel it.”
“I feel cold inside but I also feel like I am
burning hot. My body hurts, my head hurts, my stomach hurts, my throat hurts….
I’m a mess,” I confessed, shook and cried for being sick. “I’m sorry I am sick.
I’m sorry I am crying; that you are seeing me this way.” I continued to sob for
ruining Cayden’s schedule. “I am ruining everything.” The tears flowed, and my
voice squeaked small.
Cayden tugged all of the sheets over me. He
tucked me into them and pulled me into his body. “Winter, please relax,
breathe, stop saying you are sorry. You have not ruined anything.” I sniffed,
trying hard to stop crying. “I have you,” he assured and wrapped his arms
tighter around me. “I am not letting you go. The interview can be re-scheduled,
no big deal. You are my life, Winter, and I love you. I will never let you go.
Close your eyes and sleep.” My body shivered again. “I have you, baby. Relax.”
I must have fallen asleep, because the next
thing I remembered was the sensation of Cayden running his fingers over my
shoulders. I opened my eyes, trying to focus. I lay, curled up on Cayden’s bare
chest. My cheek warm against his skin. My right arm rested on his stomach, and
my leg draped around his hip. I clung to him, to his body, as though I held on to
him for life itself.
“You are so damn beautiful,” he said. He skimmed
his fingers across my forehead, brushing back the hair from my face.
“Cayden, I feel horrible. I know I must look
horrible.” I yanked the covers up over my head in an attempt to hide the
hideousness of myself from him.
The covers slid back against my skin, exposing
my face. “Don’t hide,” he said quietly. He was looking at me from beneath his
extraordinary lashes.
“What?”
“You were restless for a little while, saying
things.”
“What was I saying?”
“I don’t know. Most of it did not make any
sense, just mumbling. But you did say, ‘I love you’ then you grabbed onto me. I
thought you were awake but you were sleeping,” he explained while outlining my
eyebrow with his fingertip.
“I do love you.” I nuzzled my nose against his
chest.
“I know.” He smiled, and it was like the dawn.
“Do you feel any better? What can I get you?”
“I’m not cold any longer,” I admitted. “But
Cayden, please, how long have I been sleeping? You cannot stay in bed all day,
holding me.”
Cayden smiled tenderly as he explained, “You
have been sleeping for a couple of hours but don’t worry, as your luck would
have it, I don’t mind being in bed holding you so I can stay here all day, all
night, as long as you need me.”
“You smell so good,” I said. I breathed him in.
He let out a low even laugh. “Now, you dodged my
question. What can I get for you? Anything you want, baby.”
“Maybe some Sprite. I am thirsty, but my stomach
is kind of iffy.”
“Thank you,” he said.
“For what?” I asked, confused.
“For not
arguing and for actually telling me what you want.”
Cayden scooted out from the bed and covered me
up.
“Hey, I didn’t want you to go.”
“I’ll be right back, rest.”
A few minutes passed, and I drifted in and out
of a hazy sleep. I heard when Cayden came back. I opened my eyes to see he was
balancing a large clear glass filled with ice cubes along with a six-pack of
Sprite cans in one hand, while in his other hand, he held onto a bottle of
pills and a fancy thermometer one swipes over their forehead to take their
temperature.
“Here, take some Tylenol.” He offered me the
bottle and sat down on the edge of the bed. “It will help with body aches and
fever.” He popped a can out of the pack, flipped the tab, and poured the Sprite
into the glass. The cubes
tingled
against the glass when he handed it to
me. I took the two pills and two large drinks of the Sprite. The lemon lime
flavor of the Sprite burst on my tongue. It tasted great. “Hold still,” he
instructed and ran the thermometer across my forehead. A
beeping
sound
rang out. “Yep, you do have a fever so that makes you officially sick. That
means you will stay in bed and rest.”
“What’s going to happen with your interview?”
Cayden shook his head at me; his eyes softened
from beneath his thick lashes. “No, we are not talking about my job. Today is
all about you,” he replied.
He sat my glass down on the bedside table along
with the bottle of Tylenol and the thermometer. I reached out and touched his
face. Combed my fingers through his hair, brushing it over his ear.
“Would you like to watch TV?” he asked. “A
movie, listen to music? Anything you want as long as you stay in bed and rest.”
“Will you talk to me?”
“Sure, baby. What do you want to talk about?”
“Anything. I just want to hear your voice.”
“Do you want me to read to you?”
The corners of my mouth turned up into a smile.
“Really? You will read to me?”
“Anything you want. What would you like me to
read?”
“Whatever you would like to read, I’m not
picky.”
Cayden looked at me for a long moment. Skimmed
his hand down my cheek. Smiled tenderly. I watched him walk over to his vast
collection of books where he stood. Cayden picked a book and came back to me. I
pulled back the sheets before he slipped in under the covers and tucked me
close into his side. There in his hand was a collection of poetry.
“Let’s start with some Lord Byron.” Cayden gave
me the book and told me what page to flip to.
I followed his instructions, found the page, and
passed him back the book. “Here,” I said.
Cayden smiled. “You keep it. I don’t really need
the book.”
I pouted. Placed the book on the night stand by
the bed. “I thought you were going to read to me.”
He brushed his fingertip over my pouting lip and
recited with perfect recall from his memory as well as perfect tone and
inflection in his silk ridden voice. “She walks in beauty, like the night, of
cloudless climes and starry skies; And all that's best of dark and bright meet
in her aspect and her eyes….”
Cayden spent quite a long time reciting some of
his favorite poems to me, all from memory and all perfectly recited. He looked
into my eyes. “Do you want me to read you a book now?”
While I was more than tempted to say yes and
spend my time in his arms while he read to me, I needed to ask him a question.
“Cayden, can I ask you question?”
“You can always ask me anything you want,” he
said softly.
I held out my left hand and placed it on his
hand. He smiled. “When did you have time to buy this ring?”
His face became serious, light worry lines
crossed over his brow before he smoothed out his forehead. “My answer may upset
you.”
“Why would it upset me?”
“Well….” He seemed to teeter a moment,
considering whether to tell me or not then he intertwined his fingers tightly
with mine. “Do you remember the first time we met?”
I chuckled. “Of course, how could I ever forget
it? You know it has not been that long ago.”
Cayden leaned over and kissed the top of my
head. “Well that night when you were not actually with me, you had blacked out,
I kind of freaked out. When I found out who you were, heard your name, I was so
worried about you I thought I might lose my mind. All I could think about was
how long I had waited for you. The thought something was really wrong when you
took so long to wake up plagued me. Actually, when it took you such a long time
to wake up I began to panic. Then you opened up your eyes, your beautiful
emerald green eyes and looked at me.”
Cayden smiled as though he were saved as he
spoke. I reached out and touched his face, running my fingertip along his
jawline. He needed to shave. Cayden grinned and cupped my cheek.
“I knew in that exact moment you were indeed my
Winter,” he continued. “Then you touched my face. I could not believe you were
touching me. It was in that moment, I decided I had always been right about you.
I actually was not crazy. I knew you were not a ghost you were real, you were
mine, and I was going to marry you.”
“You decided such a thing at that moment?”
He smiled his angel’s smile. “Yes. I knew with
total assurance you were mine, but I did worry you may not feel the same about
me.”
“You know I could not believe you were real. I’m
still not sure.” I giggled.
Cayden laughed. “I’m real.” And he kissed me
gently.
“You need to know I did feel the same. When you
took me to my suite, touched my cheek, I knew then I wanted you. Cayden, I
needed you.
I loved you, but it was hard
to accept you would want me, need me, love me. Our connection was hard to
accept, hard to understand but I am yours, completely, you know that, right?”
“Yes,” he said quietly. “I love you, Winter.”
“And I love you, but you didn’t answer my
question. When did you buy the ring?”
“I’ve had your ring for a while,” he confessed.
I felt my face frown at his answer.
“I’m confused,” I admitted.
“I bought your ring after I made my first film
five years ago.”
“Um…,” I stuttered.
Cayden pressed his lips to my warm cheek before
he brushed his fingertip over my creased brow. My brow smoothed with his touch.
“Winter, I told you I have always needed to know you, to find you.” He paused,
looking at me as though I would think he was crazy.
“Yes. I know.”
“After I read your book I found a piece of you.
I have always loved you. All I needed was to find the rest of you and here you
are,” he said, squeezing my fingers tighter with his. “I bought the ring, going
with the hope and the assumption I was not crazy. You were real, and I was
going to find you somehow. I told myself when I did find you I would not waste
one more minute, I would marry you.” He gazed at me for a long moment. He said
nothing. He stared at me. I knew he wanted to say something, and he was
pondering whether to say it or not. “I need to confess something.”
