Wild Irish Envy (Copperline #2) Read Online Free PDF Page B

slept almost the entire flight here.”
    “Just rest,” I said. “I’ll make sure you’re on the plane, no matter what a pain in the arse you can be.”
    She was quiet for a time, and then murmured softly. “Thank you, Denny.”
    We boarded the plane a short time later for our outbound flight, and I helped get Fliss settled, then went to check with the flight attendant to see about getting a seat next to her. Chances were, she would be just fine, but I kind of liked being able to take care of her as long as I didn’t examine the why of it too closely. It helped that we were both veiling our discussion with a hefty amount of dry sarcasm, but there was an underlying emotion to it that I felt was best to ignore. The flight was fortunately far from full. Fliss actually had both seats next to hers open, so we were able to have one in between, like on the flight to Newark.
    As the plane left American soil and the sun set quickly behind us, Fliss began to shiver even more. I tucked the jacket around her, asked the flight attendant for some 7-Up with no ice and stirred all the bubbles out. My nanny was pretty sure that could cure cancer. I would have settled for a break in Fliss’ fever, but she continued to shake, a cold sweat gleaming on her cheeks. Her pale skin felt raging hot to the touch, yet she could barely contain the chills that chattered her teeth.
    Lifting the armrests between us, I slid a little closer to her and pulled her up against me.
    “What are you doing?” she said with a worried frown, half-dopey from the NyQuil.
    “You’re freezing,” I explained. “Likely to take the feckin’ plane down the way you’re shaking.”
    It took a while, but her stiff posture slowly began to relax against me, tremors still coursing through her, but slowly growing less violent and less frequent. Her drowsy eyes had returned, groggy and disconnected before they closed for a long while. I thought maybe she slept, although it turned out that she’d become pensive. And apparently the NyQuil made her feel a little freer to express her thoughts, and her unfiltered, albeit slightly medicine-induced, question caught me a bit off guard.
    “Why are you doing this? You don’t even like me,” her thick, feverish voice murmured in the semi-darkness as I spread a fresh cool cloth over her heated forehead.
    I couldn’t answer her. Partly because I didn’t want to face the thought that I had hurt her in the past, even though I know I had. Badly. I had known it then.
    Yet I clearly didn’t want to face what she still clearly meant to me after all this time, either. Someone who had never really been a part of my life, yet had so drastically colored my world.
    I didn’t respond. I simply pulled her closer as her body began to tremble again with chills, goosebumps rising on her flesh.
    “So cold,” she whispered as she curled towards me, unconsciously seeking the warmth of my body.
    I couldn’t help it. Every nurturing instinct in me took over, and I held her close while she shook with uncontrollable tremors. Her teeth chattered and she felt so incredibly fragile.
    I was not a huge guy by any means, just a hair over six feet, more lean muscle as opposed to the thick brawn of a couple of my friends back in Montana. Still, she felt so small in my arms, so tiny and frail. I wanted to shelter and protect her. Especially now, while she was so vulnerable with illness.
    It was like I’d been given a free pass to treat her the way I’d always wanted to before.
     

 
     

    February, four years ago
     
    I couldn’t get her out of my mind after that first chance encounter. Summer came and went, the fall semester dragged on into spring, and my desire to be at school lessened even more. If I was honest with myself, the main thing that made me go to class every day was the hope that I’d run into her.
    By that point, I knew she was on campus and starting her degree. Her name would come up once in a while in passing or posted on a list