"Sure. Fighters have to know their own bodies well enough to stay healthy. So quit stalling. Your head, your throat. I'm guessing your chest with that cough. What else?"

She didn't think he'd let it go, so she admitted the truth. "Pretty much everything."

"Body aches?"

She nodded. "And my eyes burn." Maybe that'd be a good excuse for the tears.

"That's probably from the fever. Soon as Armie gets back we'll get some meds in you." Once more his thumb teased over her bottom lip and he let out a pent-up breath. "I'm so damn sorry."

"You didn't make me sick."

"I also didn't pay close enough attention to realize you weren't feeling well."

She hadn't paid enough attention, either. At the time, with Denver touching and kissing her, she'd been focused only on feeling. "You thought I was drunk."

"I worried about it, yeah. I didn't want to take advantage of you."

Talking hurt her throat, but she still had to say it. "When I had to practically beg you?"

His eyes narrowed in thought. "You should have told me, you know."

"I didn't realize-" she started to say.

"Shh." He kissed her forehead, softening his rebuke. "Don't lie to me, Cherry. Ever."

How could he so easily make her feel guilty? She bit her lip. "Well..."

"There's no way you couldn't have known you were getting sick."

True enough-to a point. "I didn't feel well, but-" She coughed some more, then had to bite back a groan at the radiating discomfort.

Denver supported her, rubbing her back until she'd quieted again.

Holding on to him, she drew a careful breath. "I didn't know I'd be this bad," she wheezed. "Honest. I wouldn't have risked getting you sick."

"I'm not worried about that." He helped her resettle in the bed. "But why didn't you tell me?"

She started to again bite her lip, but when his gaze focused on her mouth, she stopped herself. In a hoarse whisper, she said, "It's embarrassing."

As if her embarrassment didn't factor into things, he shook his head. "I need you to always be honest with me, Cherry, no matter what."

It irked her, this persistence that she might not be truthful. "I'm not a liar."

"No. But there are layers of honesty." Firm, he tilted his head to stare into her eyes. "I have to have one hundred percent."

"Fine." Though she felt like death warmed over, she lifted her chin. "I was afraid if I told you, you'd use it as an excuse to walk away."

His piercing gaze softened at her admission. "Am I walking away?"

"No." And it confused her so much. "But I don't know why not."

He took her hand. "You think I'd walk out on you when you're so ill?"

She didn't want his pity. "If that's the only reason you're staying-"

"It's not."

"Oh." With her eyes gritty and her head throbbing, she could barely stay upright. She persisted anyway, drawing in a slow breath to keep from coughing. "Long as we're being honest, why did you ignore me?"

For the longest time he stared down at their clasped hands and she felt the tumult of his thoughts, his resistance and even a sort of muted resentment.

She got nervous, dreading what he might say. It had been tough to take his unspoken rejections on good days. Being wretchedly sick, this was not a good day. But if she cried in front of him, she'd just die.

Finally he lifted his head. The piercing focus of his attention unnerved her. "Mostly I avoided you because I wanted you too fucking much."

Wow. Never had she expected that. How did that even make sense?

"The way you smell," he murmured, dipping his nose to her temple and inhaling. "The way you look. How you laugh and the bounce of your hair, your tits, that amazing ass..."

She gulped. His tone was gritty, almost raw, and she couldn't think of a reply except to say, "Oh," again.

"Every time you'd get near me, hell, even in the same room, I could smell you."

"That's...unsettling."

"You smell good, girl. So fucking good." Keeping her pinned in his gaze, uncaring about her mute surprise, he continued. "You know you're stacked. There's no way you could not know. But I've known plenty of built women."

She scowled, making her head protest with ramped up pain.

"But they aren't you. It's the combo, I think. Your bod, your attitude-which drove me nuts, by the way."

In a croak, she asked, "My attitude?"

"Party girl," he accused. "Tease."

Despite being ill, her shoulders stiffened. "I am not-"

"You tease every guy who gets near you."

Her gasp choked her, making it impossible to protest. She did not tease. How dare he- "You do," he stated, "even if you don't mean to." Working his jaw, his gaze went over her body, his hands following suit until he clasped her hips. "You have no idea how it affected me."

If it got him to this point-in bed with her-then she'd accept the blame.

"I hate to admit it, but that's probably why I went overboard." His voice dropped. "Swear to God, girl, if you weren't sick I'd be inside you right now."

Her eyes widened on a startled breath, and of course that set off a spate of coughing again.

Denver pulled her against his hard chest, cradling her gently. "Easy now." She'd only barely gotten her air back when he added, "I'm betting I've wanted this longer than you have. So damn long, I was going nuts. Then to finally give in-"

Give in? What did that even mean?

"That's not an excuse for pushing you so hard, but fact is, you do it for me. Around you, I stay so primed it's almost agonizing."

Ducking her face against him, Cherry said, "That's exactly how I felt, too. As to you pushing me..." She shivered, remembering. "I liked it."

She felt his smile when he kissed her temple. "I know you did. But you'll like it more when you're feeling like yourself." Almost as an afterthought, he added, "There's still a lot I want to do to you."

Oh Lord. Not with her, but to her? How was she supposed to breathe normally when he said things like that?

For Denver, it sounded like everything was sexual. It thrilled her to finally make some headway-but what she felt was so much more.

He rubbed his hand down her back toward her bottom-but stopped short. "Soon as you're well, we'll try this all again." His lips teased her ear, and he whispered, "When you can take it, I'll make you beg."

Wow. As unnerving as that sounded, she could hardly wait.

His fist under her chin tipped up her burning face. "Far as I'm concerned, there's no end date in sight." He searched her eyes, then focused on her mouth. "You okay with that?"

She'd been hung up on Denver Lewis from the day she'd laid eyes on him and every day since she'd fallen harder. If he asked her to marry him right now, she'd probably say yes.

Instead, he wanted unlimited sex, and the answer was still a resounding, "Yes."

"Good." He tucked her hair back, then leaned away to see her body. "You're shivering again."

With nervousness, excitement, and yes, fever. The way he'd cooled her down had helped, but not for long.

He pulled off his shirt-a treat no matter how sick she might be-and kicked off his shoes, then crawled into bed beside her and hugged her up to his warm chest. "Better?"

Heavenly. "Yes."

"Doze off if you want." Stretching out his long legs and then reaching for the remote, he got comfortable with the TV on low. "I'll wake you when Armie gets back."

Tired as she was, she didn't think she'd be able to sleep. Not with her head feeling like it might explode off her body and her throat getting scratchier by the second. "Could we chat some more?" By chat, she meant her resting against him while he shared details of his life.

"About what?"

So many things. "Tell me about your family."

"Already did. Dad's a doctor."

The way he summed that up, to the point of being curt, made her wonder. Did he have a bad relationship with his dad? "You mentioned a stepmother?"

"Yeah. Dad remarried years ago."

Curling up next to him, her cheek on his bare chest, his arm around her, felt more comforting than meds ever could. The heat of his body seemed to permeate her aching muscles, and his scent wrapped around her. When she rested a hand over his abdomen, the incredible muscles there tightened. "How old were you?"

"Nineteen." Covering her hand with his own, he moved his thumb over her knuckles. "You are so soft."

Changing the subject again? "You like your stepmother?"

Silence stretched out while Denver played with her fingers. She didn't rush him. If he chose not to answer, she'd let it go.

She knew all about family issues better kept private.

Then he said, "Dad loves her. I figure that's what's important."

She turned her face up to see him. "You don't get along with her?" Given Denver was so wonderful, she couldn't imagine anyone not loving him.

Again, he took his time thinking. Finally he pinched the bridge of his nose and muttered, "It's complicated." After a quick hug and a kiss on the top of her head, he promised, "We'll have plenty of time to talk when you're feeling better. It's late. You should sleep."

She didn't want to, but lethargy pulled at her. Soon as Denver tucked the sheet around her, she felt herself slipping away.

Sometime later, more sluggish than ever, she woke to whispering and realized Armie was back. While trying to orient herself, she heard a low, angry conversation on relatives.

If anything, she felt worse now, bad enough that she didn't even care what they talked about. Pulling the covers over her head, she groaned, "Thanks Armie. Now go away please."

He didn't leave, of course. In fact, she sensed when both men came to loom over her. The testosterone ramped up enough to strangle her.

Armie crouched down by her shrouded head. "How you feelin', doll?"

She curled a little tighter to ensure he wouldn't unwrap her. "Bad enough I don't want anyone to see me."

A big, warm hand settled on her shoulder-Armie.

She was still adjusting to the impact of that when another hand settled on her hip-Denver.

Good Lord.

Her heart almost stopped. Were they trying to kill her with their combined machismo?

One large, hunky guy focused on her was enough. The two combined left her shivering with awareness. Though she wanted only Denver, they were both studs and she wasn't used to anything even close to this. Beneath the concealing covers, she squeezed her eyes shut-and since she had no idea what to do, she played possum.

Until both men's hands sympathetically squeezed, rubbed...

Surprise wrought a groan that ended in a rasping cough.

"Move," she heard Denver say, and a second later he'd pulled the covers to her waist, leaving her hideous hair and smudged makeup exposed. At least they'd kept the lights low, giving her shadows to hide in.

Denver helped her to sit up while giving her a drink of cold juice.

She needed the drink-but he'd pulled the sheet so low that snatching it back up seemed her first priority. Once she'd preserved her modesty, she accepted the drink.

So very aware of Armie standing there, taking it all in, seeing her in such a mess, she wanted to wither. But the juice eased the pain of her throat so she ignored her awful embarrassment and drank it all.

When she'd finished, Denver smoothed down her hair. "Let's get you started on some meds."

She seriously hated being babied so much. Never, ever, had she been the center of so much attention. "I can do it. You should go home with Armie."

Grinning at her, Armie said, "Damn, Cherry, way to insult a guy."