"Don't think about it," she whispered, giving him a light kiss on his whiskered cheek.
Sin nodded as she withdrew from him. He still felt terrible. A feeling that wasn't helped as he saw Kat put her hand to her head as if there was a sharp pain behind her left eye. "You all right?"
"Mmm, my head really hurts all of a sudden."
"You want some aspirin?"
With only her right eye open, she gave him a winsome smile. "Wish that would work. No. I think I just need to lie down for a sec."
Wondering what could be wrong with her, he took her to his bedroom and helped her into bed. "Is it any better?"
"No. I feel really sick."
He grabbed the plastic trash can from the floor and held it up for her.
Kat groaned as she saw it. "You know nothing says love like a man holding a bucket, waiting for you to hurl into it."
"No offense, you start hurling and I'm going to be needed immediately downstairs in the casino... I guarantee it."
She glared at him with only her one open eye. "That's not very romantic."
He scoffed at her aggravated tone. "Excuse me? Did I miss something? What has ever romantic about vomit?"
"A man standing by your side when you're sick. Holding your hair back from your face... that's romantic."
"In what alternate universe do you live? Here in a place I like to call reality, that's disgusting. Who in their right mind would find that romantic?"
She managed to open both eyes to pin him with a less than complimentary snarl. "So you'd just leave me here alone to be ill?"
"I didn't say that," he said, trying to defend himself. "I'd have Damien come check on you."
She curled her lip at him and pushed him away from her. "Just go. Get out of here."
Sin didn't budge from the bed. "I can stay. You're not regurgitating at the moment."
She dry heaved and he actually inched toward the door. "You're just messing with me, aren't you? That wasn't real."
She leaned back on the bed and closed her eyes again. "I can't believe what a baby you are."
"Me? Like you'd stand over me if I were hurling? Give me a break."
"I might."
He didn't believe that for an instant. "Yeah, uh-huh. Let me go get ripped and put that theory to the test."
She pulled a pillow to her stomach. "You're awful."
"I'm honest. Trust me, no one ever comes to check on someone when they're ill."
"It doesn't matter anyway. You're a Dark-Hunter. You can't get sick or drunk."
That wasn't true by a long shot, and he'd had the hangovers to prove it. "I'm an ex-god your father gave a job to. I can, and have, been both many times."
Kat opened her eyes again to frown at him. "You've been ill?
"Yes. Apparently, I lost whatever common cold and flu immunity I had when you mother sucked my powers out of me."
"And Damien or Kish didn't come help?"