“Ohhh. I like this confident side of you. Sick or not, you are a prize among prizes.”

Was she, though? What did she have to offer? A house filled of “treasures” she’d hoarded—pretty glass shards, buttons and coins she’d found in the street; junk to anyone else. A mountain of medical bills. Refusal to ever have children and pass on this terrible disease. An inability to leave her bed for long periods of time. Any man she loved would ultimately become a caregiver and have to bathe and change her in bed. No, thanks.

But she kept her lips zipped, camouflaging her inner pain. Vale battled too many burdens already and didn’t need to worry about Nola’s mental health, too.

“You know, a trial reveals a person’s true character,” Vale said as she strode back into the closet. After insisting Nola conserve her strength, she’d started packing for both of them. “Before you invested too much time and energy into a relationship, you discovered just how badly a potential love interest sucked. That’s priceless intel, baby.”

Well, Vale wasn’t wrong. Whenever Nola had decided to ignore the initial onset of nausea and forge ahead with a guy, he’d either treated her like spun glass sure to break, or worse, like a hypochondriac who’d exaggerated her symptoms for sympathy. The last guy had even made her doubt herself. And she couldn’t not tell a man about her array of health problems; he had a right to know what he was getting into.

“You think everyone sucks,” she reminded her sister.

“Yeah. Because I’m, like, supersmart.”

True. “Well, onward and upward for us both.” When they returned from vacation, they planned to buckle down and open a gourmet donut shop as fifty-fifty partners. Vale would do the paperwork and interact with suppliers; Nola would bake and interact with customers.

Baking wasn’t her great passion—what was?—but she had a major talent for it, thanks to Carrie. Plus, she’d happily do anything with Vale.

—Where are you, princess? Come. Find me.—

Nola jolted. The deep, husky voice belonged to her golden god, and doubled as a sexual caress. But how the heck had a dream man spoken inside her head while she was awake?

Was he a delusion caused by her plethora of medications, maybe? But which one(s)? And why now? Nothing new had been added to her regime.

She should probably call her doctor. Okay, she should definitely call, and she would. Upon her return. He’d tell her to cancel the trip—again.

No way, no how.

First, she and Vale planned to visit Jukkasjärvi, Sweden, to tour ice castles, go dog sledding and view the northern lights. Then, they’d travel to Russia to get their hike on.