He swung his legs slowly out from under the sheet and blanket and forced himself to sit up. His head swam with the effort and he blew out a steadying breath. He had to have a fever. Touching his forehead with his palm confirmed his suspicions. Burning up.
For several long moments, he stayed sitting on the edge of the bed, willing the queasiness to go away or at least dissipate. Nathan did not pray, he couldn’t remember even the last time he even thought about praying, but he did now. Prayed for the strength to make it long enough to take the Sorenson file from Barnaby.
Maybe, if he just stuck his arm out of the door and reached for it, Barnaby wouldn’t see him. Any other time he’d be delighted to see the man. Well…okay, more like nervous as a cat, but that was only because Barnaby was seriously hot and Nathan had a teensy tiny crush on him. One would think him too old for crushes, but what else could it be?