He frowned. “You okay? You seem distracted.”

“I think I need to puke. And you don’t need to see it.” I forced down a wave of nausea that had washed over me like a tsunami of sick.

I turned, slipping into the bathroom and falling to my knees, into the familiar position of praying to the porcelain gods. Even though the initial wretched days of my first round of chemotherapy were behind me, I still felt sick—at least once a day, sometimes more. Maybe that was the real reason Adam had decided to put me up in my own room—so he wouldn’t have to hear me hurl daily. Hopefully that meant he’d stay in the other room while I took care of this.

Chapter Twelve

Adam

I stood frozen for a moment while Emilia heaved into the toilet. Uncertainty froze me because the first thing I wanted to do was go in there and comfort her, but she’d specifically told me to stay away.

I went to the closet and grabbed a spare throw and some pillows and took them to her. It was puzzling because she’d hardly eaten a thing at Heath’s. What could she have possibly had in her stomach to throw up?

She was on her hands and knees, her head down over the toilet bowl and her long hair strewn all around her. I reached down and pulled it back for her.

“What part of ‘you don’t need to see this’ didn’t you understand?” she choked, but from the tone of her voice, she was more dismayed than annoyed or angry. I didn’t move, just kept her hair back for her while I set down the pillows and blanket beside her.

“What’s that for?” she asked.

“For your knees, and the blanket is in case it’s cold down on the floor.”

She choked again and then sat up, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. I filled a glass of water from the tap so she could rinse her mouth out. “You are incredibly sweet.”

I sat beside her on the ground. “Shh. Don’t let that get around. My dev team would never believe it, anyway.”

She sat back and looked at me again with that long, enigmatic look. She looked…sad. My chest tightened. She always looked sad these days.

She rested on her heels and gave me a small smile. I took the empty cup from her. “You need help up?”

She was fiddling with her hair, running the part I’d held back from her head through her fingers. “I, uh, I like to stay down here for a little bit, just in case.”

Darting me a look, she grabbed one of the pillows I brought and stuffed it under her butt, sighing in satisfaction. The other one she crammed against the wall and rested against it.

“Hmm, maybe I should get you a little lounge to sit on for these episodes.”

“A toilet lounge?” she grinned. “Your decorator would have a fit.”

I shrugged, leaning back on my own piece of marble-lined wall, the chill seeping through my shirt. I was glad she had the blanket to keep her warm. I wasn’t kidding. I’d e-mail my decorator tonight and get her to find something to fit the bill. Call it a toilet lounge or a commode couch or whatever.

“So there was one more thing I wanted to give you,” I said. I pulled the box from the front pocket of my shirt.

She took one look at it and swallowed and I realized her hesitation was because it was a jewelry box. Good things had not happened the last time I’d handed her a jewelry box. I flipped it open to allay her fears that it was another engagement ring. Besides, who the hell would propose over a toilet?

Her brows went up when her eyes landed on what was inside and then she frowned, clearly intrigued. She reached a hand out and stroked the inside of the box.

“Take it. It’s not going to bite you.”

She stuck her tongue out at me. “You do not want me to breathe my barf breath on you, dude.”

“No, I have a feeling that could be a lethal weapon.”

“There isn’t a dragon even you could dream up in your twisted imagination that would have breath more lethal.”

I leaned forward and she pulled the piece from the box, the gold chain dangling down. She peered at the object at the end of it and looked up at me with a questioning expression. “A compass?”

I nodded.

Another rush job, this time from a jeweler, who had designed the face of an antique gold compass with a flat backing of dark blue lapis lazuli and a pattern of small diamonds in the form of a constellation on the surface.

“That looks like your company’s logo.”

I was glad she recognized it. “Kind of. They are both patterned after the constellation Draco the Dragon.”

She nodded, fingering the surface. “Is there a special meaning to it, then? Beyond your company name?”