Chapter 10
Back at the apartment Zandro was true to his word and as Breanne came out from her shower in her Tigger PJ's, Zandro handed her the phone.
"It's dialing now."
"Oh thanks." Breanne took a hold of the phone and a moment later she was connected and had the pleasure of hearing each of her nieces and nephews come to the phone to talk to her.
Zandro sat on the couch opposite her, glass of red wine in hand listening to Breanne. She queried each of the children showing delight and interest in what they had been recently doing. Breanne was nothing like the women he usually spent time with, albeit he did not usually spend much time with any particular woman, certainly not outside of the bedroom anyway.
Not impressed with the tug of unfamiliar emotion he was feeling Zandro stood up abruptly and walked out to the balcony.
Breanne watched Zandro's mood change and as quickly as possible tried to disconnect from the call. Not easy with the kids all clamouring for a little more of her attention. However, ten minutes later with the call ended she went out to the balcony to find out if he was bothered with something she had done.
He was no longer on the balcony but coming out of his room and he'd changed out of his casual clothes into black pants and a collared shirt. "Um, sorry if I took too long on that call," she apologised a bit confused.
"It's no problem call whenever you like. I have to go out. I'll be back late so don't wait up."
Breanne raised her eyebrows at his back and watched Zandro walk to the door and leave. The next couple of hours were excruciating. She tried to piece together the events during the call back home. She had not said anything that she could think of that would have triggered his change in mood. Maybe he had received a message on his phone. No matter how she tried to rationalise his behaviour she had the distinct feeling that his mood change was triggered by her and he had certainly not felt at liberty to disclose where he was going or what the issue might be. It was impossible to relax. Breanne switched channels not taking in anything that she watched. She didn't even bother picking up a book and in the end she took herself to bed and lay staring at the ceiling.
The call centre Zandro utilised in Makati City ran a twenty four hour service and he had his own office in the building. He had work that was piling up and needed his attention. He would focus on reducing the stack of work which would stop him thinking about the soft inviting woman sitting in his apartment and the feelings that he didn't want to deal with.
Three hours later Zandro looked at the clock. It was the early hours of the morning and he had worked like a demon shooting off email responses and delegating what was not necessary for him to attend to personally. He rolled his shoulders and felt the creak of his stiffened muscles. He was due to be up and at his first meeting in just a few hours' time. There was no more delaying it. He would need to head back to the apartment. Breanne would definitely be asleep by now anyway.
Breanne heard the door open and checked the time. She desperately wanted to get up and find out if everything was okay. It would have to wait until the morning. Clearly he hadn't wanted to discuss whatever was bothering him with her tonight. Knowing that he was home safe did not help her sleep and she knew that come morning she was going to have a real struggle to get through her day.
The morning should have been awkward but Breanne did her best to pretend that nothing out of the ordinary had gone on the night before. In all honesty she was too tired to really give it all of her attention. It was certainly going to be a long day. If Zandro noticed the bags and shadows under her eyes he didn't mention it. Conversation was limited and no sooner had Breanne come out of her room Zandro was stating it was time to leave; he had a meeting to attend. Breanne could really have done with a strong tea, she was going to need a caffeine hit to get through the day.
"I know you haven't had time for breakfast. I've called the cafe near the office and they'll have breakfast and tea sent up to you." If it was said with just the tiniest amount of emotion Breanne would have thought the gesture sweet. Knowing that he probably had done it to avoid spending time alone with her made her feel a little crankier.
They were getting close to work and Breanne finally couldn't stand it any longer, bit the bullet and broached the issue of last night. "Zandro, what happened last night? I thought the evening was lovely and then all of a sudden your mood changed and you rushed out."
Zandro scowled at her and she wasn't sure if he was actually going to respond as the seconds ticked on by. She shifted in her seat but kept her eyes focused on him waiting for an answer. "It was a work issue that required my immediate attention and Breanne do not make a habit of asking about my every mood. Sleeping together does not give you that privilege."
"I only asked because I was concerned that I may have inadvertently done something to bother you. I thought maybe I'd stayed too long on the phone..." fishing for more Breanne realised that it sounded lame even to her. She knew she was showing her insecurities and she knew how repellent they would be to him. She hadn't done anything wrong, that she was confident of, because if she had then surely she would know exactly what it was. The subject was dropped, Zandro headed to his meeting and Breanne went in search of her breakfast. As the day wore on Breanne felt the effects of a sleepless night. Her body was feeling sore whilst her eyes struggled to stay open. She kept pushing on through the meetings that she had lined up.
Rona came in search of her just prior to lunch to see if she wanted to go down to the Jollibee. Rona took one look at her and put a hand on her forehead exclaiming that Breanne should immediately go home. "You are very hot. I think you should go home to bed or see a doctor."
"Oh I'm sure I'll be okay. I had a late night last night and I'm feeling just a little tired that's all".
"That might explain why you look half asleep on your feet but it doesn't explain why your forehead feels like it could cook an egg. Now I'll call your driver you need to be in bed."
Breanne felt embarrassed at the unnecessary attention. Once she was lying on the sofa she appreciated that she had been sent home. Breanne must have dozed off and she awoke to a rude start as her stomach was cramping and letting her know all was not well. She managed to make it to the bathroom just in time to throw up her breakfast. She washed her face and brushed her teeth. Her throat was sore and her nose had also started to run. Hopefully it was just the effect of throwing up.
She decided to camp out in the living room. She grabbed a plastic shopping bag just in case she needed to be sick again and with a box of tissues in hand she propped herself up on the couch and dozed off. Once again Breanne woke up startled this time with the bang of the door and a very angry Zandro looming over her.
"Why didn't you call me and to let me know you were sick?"
Feeling at a distinct disadvantage laying down Breanne stood to her feet. "I didn't want to interrupt you while you were working," she swayed on her feet.
Zandro swore under his breath in his native tongue and pulled her into his embrace to help support her. 'Lay back down before you fall down," he still sounded cranky and Breanne simply complied more due to the fact that she felt out of energy than for any other reason.
Zandro reached for his phone and called a doctor up to the apartment. "I don't need a doctor," she objected.
"You look like death and you are a guest in my home. I will decide what is necessary," Zandro left no room for argument.
Standing up so fast after lying down was never a great idea. Her blood pressure was usually on the lower side of normal and she had a tendency to feel woozy when she stood up or when she stood in the same position for a while. Unfortunately being sick usually exacerbated the symptoms.
Breanne closed her eyes in an effort to fight the nausea from standing suddenly. She felt Zandro sit on the lounge with her. He placed his hand on her forehead and muttered once more in Italian. The doorbell rang and Zandro got up to let the doctor in.
Zandro hovered around in the room looking quite agitated while the doctor did a series of checks on her. Bed rest, sipping on fluids and analgesics were recommended. It appeared that she had the flu as well as a stomach bug. If the symptoms didn't clear in the next few days she was to call the doctor back for another check.
Breanne started to doze off again but not before she heard Zandro place a few calls cancelling meetings and advising that he would be working from home for the next few days. Breanne thought about protesting but one look at Zandro's immovable features and she knew it would be a battle that she wasn't in any shape to take on. She'd never before had a man look after her when she was sick. Other than being a child and nursed by her mother she had never had anyone look after her during an illness.
With the comforting thought that someone was here with her Breanne slipped into a fitful sleep. She woke up several times feeling disorientated each time. The first time to a cool cloth being placed on her forehead then later when she woke she was in Zandro's bed. He must have carried her in at some point without her even realising.
"You are awake?"
"Yeah."
"How are you feeling?"
"Tired and my throat is sore. Um are there any tissues nearby?" Breanne could feel her nose begin to drip.
Zandro passed across a box of tissues just in time as Breanne sneezed. She grabbed several tissues and feeling completely undignified proceeded to blow her nose. "Here I have a bag for you to put the dirty tissues into. Now it's late at night and you haven't eaten. I have some chicken soup cooked up for you. Do you think you are up to a bowl?"
Breanne's stomach rumbled at the thought of food. She hadn't eaten in a while and her last meal had ended up in the toilet. "Yeah I think I could stomach some soup."
Zandro went out to the kitchen and brought in a bowl of soup on a tray. He propped her up with pillows, sat a pillow on her lap and placed the tray on top. "Be careful it might be a little hot."
Breanne tentatively tasted the soup. The soup was warm and delicious and soothing to her throat. "This is great. Where did you order it from?"
"I didn't order it I made it for you while you were sleeping. I had the ingredients sent up to the apartment as I didn't want to leave you unattended."
Breanne was impressed she had no idea that he also knew how to cook. "I wasn't always wealthy. There were times that it was important to know how to cook. My mother was not always at home if I wanted a meal it was expected I knew how to make it."
"What about your dad? Did he help with the cooking?" Breanne thought he might not answer. His eyes hooded and guarded she waited hoping for a response. She wanted him to let her in.
"My father passed away when I was young," it came out clipped and she realised she had hit a sore spot with him.
"She must have had to work hard to raise kids on her own. I expect that would have kept her away from home more often that she would have liked," Breanne imagined how tough it would have been on poor Zandro's mother after her husband passed away. She empathised for her situation and the responsibility that had fallen solely on her shoulders.
Zandro made a scoffing noise. "Don't feel sorry for her Cara. You haven't the faintest clue about my mother," with that statement Zandro closed the topic. "Eat; you have barely touched your soup."
Breanne had a few more mouthfuls. It really was nice. She managed to get through about half of the bowl and let him know that she'd had enough. Breanne sat against her pillows wishing that Zandro would open up a little more with her. He never talked about himself and she was more than a little curious.
The soup was barely in her stomach ten minutes when nausea and stomach cramps started to attack her. There was no way she was going to sit in the bed and throw up in a plastic bag with Zandro nearby. He had gone into the kitchen to tidy up and she decided to make a dash to the ensuite.
With her head over the bowl heaving, she felt her hair lifted away from her face. He said nothing he just lifted her hair and from behind he held onto her giving her support. Once she had finished he guided her to the sink handed her a glass of water to rinse out her mouth and passed her a toothbrush. He then picked her up as though she weighed nothing and placed her back into the bed. A bucket was then placed next to her, just in case and she was instructed not to try to run to the bathroom on her own again.
"I'm just going to have a quick shower. Try to nap, you look exhausted and washed out. She watched him walk into the ensuite and heard the shower turn on. Breanne was still awake when he walked out and even feeling like she was on her death bed she could still appreciate how incredible he looked in nothing more than a pair of boxer shorts.
He got under the covers and pulled her closer to him. "Relax. We will sleep in the same bed while you are ill. That way I can be here if you need me and I will know if anything is wrong."
Breanne tried to still her racing heart. Of course he would not be tempted while she looked like this and neither was she really capable of reciprocating. She was incredibly touched that he would want to nurse and look after her. "Should you be in here with me? You will probably end up getting sick too."
"I rarely get sick. If it's meant to happen it will happen and you can return the favour," he soothed. "Now shut your eyes and rest."
Breanne woke up in a pool of sweat and kicking off the sheets.
"You are burning up." Zandro got up and fetched her some analgesics. "Take these. Try not to drink too much water at once."
Breanne took the medication and Zandro then instructed that he was going to get her out of her wet nightshirt. "You are saturated Cara," with a swift motion he had her out of her shirt. He fetched a bucket of lukewarm water and sponged down her feverish body. After towel drying her off he once again scooped her up into his arms and this time carried her into her own bed. "We will sleep in here for the rest of the night. The sheets on my bed are wet and will be uncomfortable for you."
Lying once again on Zandro's chest Breanne tried to relax and go back to sleep. Her head and stomach were both aching and she couldn't seem to get comfortable. "You are in pain?"
"I'm uncomfortable. I seem to hurt everywhere at once and I can't seem to switch off even though I'm feeling exhausted."
Zandro stroked her forehead and ran his hands through her hair. "When I was a boy my father would look after me when I was sick. He would tell me a story and always I remember that during the story I would start to feel sleepy. Just before I fell asleep he would place his hand on my forehead and then run his hand gently down the front of my eyes. It always put me to sleep."
"Tell me about your father Zandro? I know only that he passed away when you were young but other than that I know nothing about you or your family," she thought he would not open up to her. His body tensed and he took a while before he said anything at all.
"My father was a great man," and with that he went into detail about his upbringing. How his mother had squandered every cent they had and then the money of many other men. He even talked about Max and how it happened that he had inherited LSS.
Mesmerized by his voice Breanne could feel the pain of his childhood through his voice, the responsibility foisted onto him at such a young age and the courage it took to become a success. Breanne knew this was a special moment. She didn't know how but she felt that he would not have opened up to many others like this if anyone at all.
"Now you probably know more about me than anyone else. I can tell this will make you feel satisfied as a woman. So go to sleep now Breanne, that is the end of this story," with those words Zandro placed his large hand over her forehead and ran his palm down over her eyes to the tip of her nose in repetitive soothing strokes.
The next morning Breanne woke up her throat parched and sore from the previous night. Zandro was already up and about in the kitchen and he entered the room with damp hair from a shower that she hadn't even heard him take.
"I have a treat for you that may help your throat. It's a local lemon drink made from calamansi juice. You can have it hot or cold and I can sweeten it with liquid sugar."
"Warm please, my throat is really sore this morning"
Sitting up in bed Breanne sipped on the warm calamansi drink. It was delicious. Similar to a hot lemon drink that she might have made at home only a bit sweeter and not quite so tart. She was careful not to take too much at once and she prayed that this morning her stomach would hold down the drink.
Breanne was sick for nearly the entire week, alternating during the first few days from feverishly hot to freezing cold. The nausea and vomiting stopped after the first two days which was a minor relief amongst the sneezing and racking coughs.
Throughout the entire week Zandro did not leave her side. He sponged her down, stood by her side while she was physically ill and took complete care of her. She felt a bond to him, protected and looked after. Even though only days ago she had thought that this would be temporary Zandro's actions over the past week had convinced her that they had the basis for a lot more. This wasn't superficial, he truly cared about her. Surely he would have to not to baulk at the mess and state she had been in.
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