Liam Wentworth coughed several times, so hard that tears welled up. With watery eyes, he watched Sheila Sinclair walk to the bed, reach out, and feel his forehead. "Your fever's back. But you've already taken medicine, so for now we can only use some cooling patches."
"If it still doesn't go down, you'll have to get a shot."
Liam Wentworth grunted sullenly.
"Do you have an appetite? I made you some congee."
"Yes."
The two hadn't eaten together in a long time. When Liam Wentworth got out of bed, he saw Sheila Sinclair standing at the table, ladling congee. It had been ages since he'd seen such a scene.
When Sheila Sinclair heard footsteps behind her, before she could even turn around, she felt a pair of arms tighten around her waist, pulling her into an embrace from behind. She instinctively struggled, but Liam Wentworth's body was burning hot. His chin rested on her neck, and his breath felt hot enough to melt her skin.
