Three Wishes(77)

And finally, Lily lost her control of the pain and she had no idea she was keening, emitting low, frightening, animal-like noises of sheer agony.

Chapter Nineteen

Nate

Nate carried Lily up to his penthouse, the entire time she kept her head pressed into his neck with such force he felt his pulse beat against her.

And she hadn’t stopped making that horrifying noise.

The elevator opened at the top floor, his floor as he owned the whole of it.

As if waiting for the sound of the elevator, the lone door in the small but opulent hall opened and Laura stood there. The minute she saw them, or more to the point heard Lily, the blood drained out of his mother’s face.

“Oh my God,” Laura breathed.

Without hesitation, Nate walked passed her, through the living room, down the hall and directly to his bedroom. Beside the bed, he put Lily on her feet but kept her weight braced against him.

“What’s wrong?” Laura asked but Nate didn’t answer, he was looking at Lily and she was wincing.

“No light,” Lily whispered.

Immediately Nate ordered his mother, “Shut the drapes.”

“Pardon?” Laura asked.

“The drapes!” he clipped, his voice impatient and curt.

Laura ran to the windows as Nate’s hand went to the zipper at the back of Lily’s dress and tugged it down gently.

“What can we do?” he asked Lily softly.

“No light,” she repeated as he finished with her zipper and carefully guided the skirt of her dress over her hips. She knew what he was doing and she lifted her arms in submission but he could tell the movement took great effort. “No noise. Noise, very bad. Cool, wet flannel,” she finished.

The room went dark as Laura closed the drapes on the floor to ceiling windows that lined one side of the room. She then rushed to them while Nate pulled the dress free of Lily’s arms, all the while bearing her weight against the length of his body.

“I’ll get something for her to wear,” Laura offered, taking the dress from his hand and throwing it across the bottom of the bed.

“No clothes. Can’t bear it,” Lily muttered and Nate’s hand moved to the clasp of her bra and deftly undid it while Laura gave up on her offered errand and leaned forward and pulled back the covers to the bed.

Nate slipped the bra off her shoulders. “Get a cool flannel,” he ordered his mother and Laura ran to the bathroom.

He set Lily in bed and went to work on her shoes, which, he decided with annoyance, regardless of how sexy they were, could be used by banks to keep money safe, their straps were so complicated. Once he had both off and dropped them to the floor, he pulled the covers over her.

“Do you have any medication?” he asked.

She shook her head and flinched then pressed it to the pillows as she’d pressed it to his neck while he carried her up to the penthouse.

“Nothing works,” she answered.

“The doctor’s coming,” Nate told her as he sat on the edge of the bed and pulled her hair gently away from her neck.

“Won’t help,” she mumbled.

He felt a frustrated fury surge through him. He realised vaguely that it had been under the surface since seeing her leaning helplessly against his receptionist’s desk but it had, finally, managed to get loose.

He controlled it, but barely.

“Lily, tell me what I can do,” he urged.

“You’re doing it,” she whispered, pressing her head deeper into the pillows.

Laura came back to the room and handed Nate the flannel. He folded it and pressed it against Lily’s forehead and she made a noise, this time not of pain.

“Yes,” she breathed in such a rush of relief, it was as if he’d given her the elixir of life. She lifted her hand and pressed the flannel into her forehead with such force he could see the colour of the flesh of her long, graceful fingers changing from pink to a harsh blush mingled with white.

The doorbell rang and Laura murmured, “I’ll get it.”

Lily whispered after Laura had scurried from the room, “Call Fazire, please.”

“Of course,” Nate assured her quietly.

“Tell him not to come.”

Nate didn’t respond.

“He’ll want to come but tell him you’ll take care of me.” Her eyes fluttered open and slid to him but her head didn’t move. “Tell him I said that.”

Nate should have reacted to the importance her words, wanted to, but at that moment he couldn’t. He heard his personal physician, Dr. Sims coming into the room with Laura.

Lily closed her eyes and Nate rose from the bed to allow the doctor access.

“What’s happened?” Dr. Sims asked.

“She says it’s a migraine,” Nate replied, his words clipped.

“Does she have them often?” the physician went on.

Nate couldn’t respond because he didn’t know. And this caused the control he had on his fury to slip a notch. If they’d had the last eight years together, he would have known.

“Yes.” It was Lily who answered.

“How often?” Dr. Sims asked her gently, taking her pulse.

“Not often.”

“Do you know your triggers?” he enquired, his voice soft and low.

“Stress,” she answered and Nate’s fury mingled immediately with a surge of guilt which caused it to slip another notch, “sometimes my period.”