“We have a meeting in half an hour. We’ll leave after it concludes.”

Millie was taken aback. Despite his high fever, he insisted on conducting a meeting.

After Millie concluded her tidying, Marcus caught her wrist with his ivory fingers, imploring, “I have a throbbing headache. Could you give me a head massage?”

He recalled that Millie had massaged his head before. Her touch was soothing, easing his discomfort.

“Of course.” Millie agreed.

Marcus gently pulled her into his embrace.

“Could you sit on me while you massage?”

as peculiar, she complied, slipping from his arms. Her lithe fingers threaded through his abundant hair, one

cascaded to Marcus’ forehead, alleviating some of his discomfort. He even found himself thinking that enduring the fever was a small price

delicate scent of her being, and relishing her tender ministrations. It was an

into a state of comfort. It occurred to him

so slightly, Marcus inadvertently brushed against

Angela’s Library

with a delicate flush. She pressed her

“Feeling better?”

Marcus, setting his senses ablaze. He couldn’t resist burying his head into the curve of Millie’s neck, his touch caressing

yearn for is to lavish my

into her, prompting her to shoulder a portion of his weight. Millie swallowed, a heat creeping onto her cheeks. What had he said? Her

firmly. They were, after all, in the office, and Marcus was in the throes of

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