Kissing her forehead, he said, “You’re very cute when you’re sick.”

“Jeez, O’Malley, you are hard up, aren’t you?”

He laughed. “Yep, she’s feeling better. Come on, let me give you a ride.” He slid his arms under her to carry her into the bathroom. After he turned the water on and got her a towel, he went back to the bedroom for her bag. “Do you need anything else?”

“I’ve got everything, thanks.”

“Be careful getting in and out. You’re still weak. Call me if you need me.”

“Thanks.”

He left her alone, and she slipped off the sweats and long-sleeved T-shirt she’d been in for what seemed like a week. She moved with caution to preserve her limited supply of energy. The pulsing water in the tub felt heavenly against her aching body, and she uttered a deep sigh of pleasure. Using a bottle of shampoo that sat on a corner of the tub, she washed her hair. After soaking for a few more minutes, she started to feel light-headed again, so she eased herself from the tub and grabbed the towel he had left for her. When the simple act of getting out of the tub left her feeling drained, she sat on the closed lid of the toilet for a few minutes.

“How you doing in there?” Aidan called from outside the door.

“Fine. I’ll be out in a minute.”

“Okay, come downstairs when you’re ready.”

Clare found flannel pajamas in the bag and got dressed. She combed her hair and brushed her teeth. Before she could muster the energy to finish cleaning up the bathroom, she had to sit for another minute. She opened the door, and the smells wafting up the stairs made her mouth water. Suddenly, she was famished.

She put her bag in Aidan’s room and went looking for the stairs. The house, an A-frame with several levels and rooms tucked into odd corners, was a wonder. The stairs hooked and curved, landing in the middle of a big kitchen where Aidan stirred something on the stove. The kitchen flowed into an inviting living room with a baby grand piano as the focal point.

“This house is amazing!”

He turned from the stove. “I’m glad you like it. Do you feel better after your bath?”

“I’m a new woman.”

He held out a chair for her at the bar. “Something to drink?”

“Just some water, please.” She watched him move with ease around the kitchen, where terracotta tiles formed a decorative backsplash over a butcher-block countertop. Shining copper pots hung above the center island that housed the stove. “This is quite a kitchen.”

“I love to cook.”

“Again you surprise me, O’Malley.”

He smiled. “It’s become my goal in life to keep you off balance.” He brought two plates of steaming pasta to the bar, grabbed a beer from the refrigerator, and sat next to her.