Chapter 801

Skylar believed a single dose of antipyretics wouldn't be fatal; moreover, Joe's symptoms resembled a common cold—red eyes and a nasal voice.

Joe noticed Skylar's unusual patience, their interactions more distant than initially. He felt a stifling constriction in his chest, a profound discomfort.

Seeing his gaze, Skylar couldn't feign ignorance. She asked, "Is there anywhere else you're feeling unwell, Mr. Martin?"

"No, that's all."

"You should rest," Skylar said, glancing at the 9:00 PM clock.

Joe looked at her intently, then pulled her onto the bed.

Startled, Skylar exclaimed, "What are you doing?"

"Don't worry, I'm not going to hurt you," he said, burying his face in her neck. The familiar warmth and scent calmed his restless mind.

Exhaustion and drowsiness gradually overcame him. Skylar was speechless at his directness. Within seconds, she heard his steady breathing, wondering if he was asleep. Despite smelling strongly of fondue, he seemed unconcerned.

She tried to move, but his grip was too tight. "Fine," she thought, "I'll manage the fondue smell and sleep." Yet, Joe felt like a human furnace, his body intensely hot.

Skylar managed some fitful sleep, but it wasn't restful. Still in her clothes, she perspired slightly. After an hour, she woke at past 10:00 PM. Joe slept soundly. She checked his forehead; his temperature had reduced. He'd been burning up against her neck, but now his temperature was normal, his breathing even and gentler.

Skylar gently extricated herself from his embrace, quietly leaving the bed for the bathroom. A shower was necessary; otherwise, sleep was impossible.

Thirty minutes later, she emerged to find Joe on the other side of the bed. After a quick glance, she carefully returned, noting ample space between them.

Once Skylar slept, Joe, initially lying on his side, moved closer, seemingly unsatisfied. He pulled her back into his arms.

When Skylar woke, it was morning. Disoriented at first, she remembered something and checked Joe's forehead. His temperature was normal. Relief washed over her.

Suddenly, Joe's eyes opened. The darkened room, with lights off and curtains drawn, cast his eyes in deep shadow. They didn't look like the eyes of someone just waking; rather, someone who had been awake for a while.

Skylar felt uneasy under his gaze. "How are you feeling now?" she asked.

"Much better," he replied, sitting up.

Skylar relaxed. "That's good. I'll have the hotel send breakfast. You should eat and see if you have any other symptoms."

"Alright."

Skylar said nothing more and went to the bathroom. Upon her return, breakfast had arrived—a lavish and appetizing spread of Wiscadian and Floan cuisine.

She picked up her phone. Several missed calls—seven or eight from Caleb, all within the last twenty minutes, and one from Aiken. She decided to call Caleb first.