The thought occurred to me, but I'm not sure how well I could pull it off.

I suppose it couldn't hurt to try.

The following day, I remained in bed for most of the morning. Normally, I would be awake early so I could work on some paintings in my studio. But today, I was pretending to be incredibly sick so that Elliot would let me miss the gathering happening in a couple of days.

I placed a hot cloth over my face and when I heard the bathroom door opening, I quickly took the cloth off my face and shoved it under my pillow.

When Elliot saw me still in bed, he frowned.

"Why haven't you gotten up yet?" He asked as he finished getting dressed for the day.

"I don't feel so good," I told him, making myself sound sick and pathetic.

His brows furrowed together.

"You were fine yesterday."

I swallowed the lump in my throat.

feeling off yesterday too. But it really got bad today. I think it's getting worse, and I'll probably be sick for at least a week," I

He asked, not

my head; it's very

on my forehead, a frown

reaching around me and grabbing the cloth that

hidden. He pulled the

this the reason you feel warm? Do you take me as

my lower lip and sat

murmured. "I'm really not feeling well. I put a warm cloth on

medicine. I'm sure once you get up and

of bed to open it. One of the maids stood on the other side with a glass of

her and closed the door,

knocked on

"Come in," he said.

door and stepped inside. He glanced up at

are you going

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