The thought occurred to me, but I'm not sure how well I could pull it off.

I suppose it couldn't hurt to try.

The following day, I remained in bed for most of the morning. Normally, I would be awake early so I could work on some paintings in my studio. But today, I was pretending to be incredibly sick so that Elliot would let me miss the gathering happening in a couple of days.

I placed a hot cloth over my face and when I heard the bathroom door opening, I quickly took the cloth off my face and shoved it under my pillow.

When Elliot saw me still in bed, he frowned.

"Why haven't you gotten up yet?" He asked as he finished getting dressed for the day.

"I don't feel so good," I told him, making myself sound sick and pathetic.

His brows furrowed together.

"You were fine yesterday."

I swallowed the lump in my throat.

bad today. I think it's getting worse, and I'll probably

so?" He asked, not

head; it's very warm," I

my forehead, a frown marring his lips. Then he cocked his

reaching around me and grabbing the cloth

it was completely hidden.

this the reason you feel warm? Do

my lower lip

feeling well. I put a

get you some medicine. I'm sure once you get up and shower,

later, I heard a knock on the door. I sighed and slid out of bed to open it. One of the maids stood on the

and closed the door, bummed that my plan didn't

knocked on Elliot's

"Come in," he said.

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