“Since I don’t remember much about the last twenty-four hours, I can’t say I feel better, but I suspect I do.”

The worry cleared from her expression, and she released the sheet. “I’m pretty sure you couldn’t have put that sentence together last night, so the fever must be down.”

So he’d been incoherent. “Did I babble like an idiot?”

“Well, you babbled, but since you were having hallucinations, I don’t think you were being an idiot. You just saw things that weren’t there.”

The hallucinations were beginning to fade from his memory. Only one remained vivid, and that was the feel of Chloe pressed against his chest as he lay in bed. A quick analysis offered two possibilities: either his brain preferred the pleasant image and held onto it, or the event had actually occurred. He decided to embrace the former explanation because the latter would make working with Chloe awkward.

“I have a proposition for you,” he said. The temp looked wary. “I’m sure Ben won’t let me go to the office today, and I have a lot to catch up on. You’ve already been exposed to my germs, which I apologize for but cannot fix. Would you consider working here with me?”

Her eyebrows drew downward as she untangled herself from the bedding and stood up. She had her lips pursed again. Instead of looking at him, she turned her gaze to the windows, where the tops of the buildings on the river’s western shore were just beginning to catch the early sun’s rays. “I’d need to go home first,” she said. She waved her hands down alongside her body in a movement that was meant to indicate her rumpled clothing but only succeeded in drawing his eye to her curves again. “To change.”

“There are clothes in the guest room you can use.”

A mixture of animosity and amusement scudded across her face. “I know.”

“If you’re tired, you’re welcome to use the guest bed as well.” She gave a tiny shake of her head, and he realized he didn’t want her to say no. “I’ll double your hourly rate.”

She brought her gaze back to him. “Dr. Cavill tripled it.”

“You drive a hard bargain.” He made a gesture of agreement. “Consider your rate tripled.”

She nodded. “But I still have to go home. It should only take about three hours, depending on traffic.”

“Where do you live?”

“New Jersey.”

“You can use the helicopter. That will eliminate the traffic and get you back faster.”

The look of astonishment on her face was worth the price of the aviation fuel it would take. “Use . . . the . . . helicopter.” She stared at him. “Where do you think it will land? I don’t exactly have a helipad on my roof.”

“The pilot can figure that out and set up a car to meet you.” When her brown eyes went even wider, he began to enjoy himself.

“You’re serious.” She shook her head as though she was trying to wake up from a deep sleep. “I guess I should be flattered that my time is so valuable to you.”

“You should be.” He allowed himself to smile as he touched the control panel on his bedside table. “Good morning, Ed. Get Kurt to fire up the small chopper.”

“I’ll be back as soon as possible,” Chloe told the driver of the black sedan that had been waiting for her at the airport. This trip was a commuter’s ultimate fantasy.

“Take your time,” he said, closing the car door he was holding for her.

Chloe jogged up the bluestone sidewalk and unlocked the front door of her small stucco-and-brick house. She loved the solid feel of the oak door. It spoke of security to her. Her grandmother got up early, so she didn’t hesitate to sing out, “Grandmillie, I’m home!”

Silence seemed to shudder through the house, making Chloe bolt for her grandmother’s downstairs bedroom. The door was open. Chloe sprinted through it to find the bed neatly made, with no sign that her grandmother had slept in it. She ran around to the other side of the bed, but Grandmillie wasn’t lying unconscious or disabled on the floor.

She heard the sound of water running and the bathroom door opening, and closed her eyes in a brief moment of relief. The steady rhythm of Grandmillie’s footsteps accompanied by the tap of her cane floated to her ears like the sweetest music.

“Grandmillie!” she said, walking into the hall and enveloping her grandmother in a hug.

“Good heavens, girl, you’ve only been gone for one night.” Grandmillie hugged Chloe back before extricating herself from the embrace.

“It was a long night,” Chloe said. Her grandmother was fully dressed, her hair neatly pinned into its usual French twist, her cane’s colors matching the royal blue and yellow of her blouse. That made everything right with Chloe’s world.

Grandmillie turned toward the kitchen. “You can tell me about it over some oatmeal and fruit.”

“Tempting, but I have to shower, change, and go back to work.” She didn’t mention that she’d be working in Trainor’s home. Although her grandmother mostly had moved with the times, on occasion she surprised Chloe with an old-fashioned reaction.

“I’ll have the oatmeal ready for when you’re done dressing.” Grandmillie was a strong believer in the importance of eating a healthy meal at the start of the day.

“Well, er, here’s the thing. There’s a car and a helicopter waiting for me.”

Grandmillie raised her eyebrows. “Did you say a helicopter?”