Three Wishes(76)

Lily leaned more of her weight on her hand on the woman’s desk. Soon, she knew, she might not be able to hold herself upright.

The receptionist was on hold and she put her hand over the mouthpiece and said to Lily, “Why don’t you sit down? Jennifer’s ringing him now, I’ll…” She stopped talking and Lily concentrated closely on her face. If she didn’t she just might throw up. The flashing lights in her eyes were now zooming and the pain in her head was magnifying alarmingly.

The woman’s eyes widened and her lips parted at whatever she heard on the phone.

Lily didn’t care. She wasn’t going to make it. She needed to find somewhere to lay down immediately. Somewhere quiet, cool and very, very dark.

“Mr. McAllister is coming down himself,” the receptionist breathed as if the Lord Almighty had rung to invite her to a picnic. She was staring at Lily with new interest but she didn’t like what she saw. “You’re not okay,” she accused but it was soft, thoughtful accusation and she surged from her chair and made her way around the desk.

Lily moved to face the desk fully and she put both her hands on it to hold herself up. She dropped her head and started to take deep breaths. She felt the woman’s hand on her back and tried not to flinch at the touch. Touch was not good.

“Is there something I can do?” she queried. “Do you need a glass of water? Let’s get you seated.”

Lily nodded, a seat would be good. Standing was bad, very, very bad.

She was beyond speech, beyond much of anything, the pain was at her left temple, unexplainable, indescribable, twisting pain.

“Lily.” She heard the deep rumble of Nate’s voice saying her name but she didn’t turn.

“Mr. McAllister, I think something’s wrong with her,” the receptionist murmured.

Nate was at her side in less than a second. She felt him rather than saw him, her eyes were squeezed shut.

“Jesus, Lily,” he muttered, his heavy, warm hand replacing his receptionist’s at her back and his other hand went to her waist where he gently turned her to face him.

In doing so, she had to give a great deal of her weight to him as she took her hands from the desk. His body tensed at the unexpected burden and her hands moved to the sides of his waist to hang on for dear life.

He pulled her to him with one hand, bracing her weight against his body while his other hand went below her chin and tilted her face to his.

Unseeing and unfocussed, she looked in the vague direction of his face.

“Nate, I think I need to lie down,” she whispered.

He moved suddenly then and she cried out. Sudden movement was not good. Any movement was not good.

But then she was freed of supporting herself at all because she was lifted in his arms. She rested an arm around his shoulders, a hand on his chest and her head in the bend of his neck.

This was a far better place to be than standing.

“Call Jennifer,” he barked, walking away. The walking away part wasn’t so good. It was movement and she made a noise of protest in the back of her throat. At the sound of it, his strides lengthened. “Tell her I want my physician at my flat immediately. And I want her to phone Mrs. Roberts, tell my mother Lily’s here and she’s ill.”

They were going somewhere, she didn’t know where but she hoped they got there soon or she’d vomit all over Nate’s lovely suit.

“Lily, do you know what’s wrong?” he asked.

“Headache,” was all she could manage to say and this she said very quietly in hopes he’d catch the hint and stop talking so loudly. Or, better yet, at all.

“This isn’t just a f**king headache,” he responded tersely, his voice rough with concern.

She didn’t reply. He was right for one and for another, she was loathe to open her mouth.

They’d arrived somewhere and he set her on her feet but didn’t make her take her own weight as he held her against his body then shifted her and she was finally, blissfully sitting.

In a car.

In terror, she surged up and out of the car, slamming straight into him.

“No!” she cried and the pain shot though her head like a bullet. She winced, not knowing her already pale face became ashen.

“Lily, for God’s sake, what’s wrong?” She looked up at him, tried to focus through the excruciating pain and Nate looked at her face. “Christ!”

The word was an explosion. She winced at the noise of his voice.

“Migraine, Nate, I can’t ride in a car. The motion will make me sick. I can’t bear it. Can’t endure the movement. I need to lie down, now,” she explained and the effort of words completely exhausted her.

“You have to get in the car, darling, we’re in a car park. We’ll be home soon,” he assured her, his voice now back to gentle.

“The car park is fine.” And at that moment, lost in the pain, it was true. She would have lain anywhere, just as long as it was down, it was quiet and she no longer had to move. “I’ll just lie down by the car.”

He didn’t listen, he pushed her in the car, carefully but forcefully, and before she could surge out again, he buckled her in. He wasted no time getting in the driver’s seat and setting them in motion.

Nate, just as in memory, drove hard and fast, this time out of necessity. Lily leaned forward, put her elbows on her knees and her head in her hands to keep it as still as possible.