Hello Lovelies,

Thank you so much for the support I've received. I appreciate each and every comment and message I've received.

I'm glad you liked the last chapter. I hope you enjoy this one too.

Sorry if I haven't gotten round to replying to your reviews. I'll try to be better at replying.

Much Love,

Chelsea x


I stood in front of the sinks in the casino restroom, gripping onto the counter for support and to stop myself from swaying. I glanced up into the mirrors and frowned at my sweaty, flushed face.

I had felt warm for most of the night, but in the last twenty minutes I had burned up and been struck down with intense nausea. It came over me like a tsunami, crashing over me and knocking me completely off kilter. It had happened so suddenly. I had no warning for the sickness – one minute I was fine, the next I was puking up my dinner.

And it showed no sign of letting up sometime soon.

There was a knock on the door and I weakly beckoned Kate inside, her loud and chirpy voice sounding through to me. I looked over as the door swung open, Kate barging past the security guards who were stopping anyone from joining me in the restroom.

"Bit extreme," she slurred, staggering over to me. She slouched into the counter and folded her arms. "They weren't going to let me in and I've been with you all night! Asshats."

"It's fine," I shook my head.

"Who do they think they are? Rambo and Rocky?"

"Let it go."

I stood up and took a deep breath. Turning on the cold-water faucet, I began dousing my face, splashing my cheeks in a bid of freshening myself up.

"You'll ruin your makeup," Kate commented.

"Really?" I scowled. "My mascara is running down my face and I've just spent the past half hour puking my guts up. You think I care what I look like right now?"

She ran her eyes over me, pouting her red lips. Her eyes were blood-shot and wide.

"You look like a panda," she giggled. "A very sad, wet panda."

"I feel like shit," I groaned.

"Are you okay?" she asked, worry starting to creep into her voice. She closed in on me, her face scarily close to mine. "Do you need me to call Christian?"

I had been reluctant to ruin Christian's night with news of me feeling unwell. It's his bachelor weekend too, he should be enjoying himself and not nursing me through whatever sickness has come over me.

But I really was feeling sorry for myself now.

I slowly nodded.

"I think I'm going to head to my room," I admitted, accepting defeat. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be ridiculous!" she sang, shaking her head enthusiastically. "You can't help not feeling good!"

"Are you going to be okay?"

"Sure!" she nodded, grinning. Her voice becoming squeakier by the second. "I'll go join Mia at the slots. Join her side party, see what the deal is with them."

Mia had continued to spend the rest of the night with her newly found group of admirers. She had come over to us several times, checking in and sharing details about the 'cool guys' she was hanging out with. It was nice seeing her light up under the attention and fuss they were showering over her. Frankly, if it took the glare away from me that was a blessing. I'm happy to blend into the background. I'm glad I'm marrying a man like Christian – at the wedding, even wearing a big white dress and veil, he'll still upstage me. He does it without even thinking, just by existing. Most brides would hate being overshadowed, but I'll relish in it.

"Call Christian and tell him to meet me upstairs," I said. I grabbed my purse from the counter and pecked an air-kiss to Kate. "I need to shower."

I exited the restroom and greeted the two guards standing outside. I informed them I wanted to go to my room, taking the larger, meaner looking one with me. I ordered the other to stick to Kate like glue. He was clearly the Rocky she was referring to.

"She can handle her own, but she's a flight risk when she's drunk," I explained. "I hope you can run fast."

He snorted back at me and I raised my brow. Kate might look diminutive and sweet, but when she's intoxicated she is a force to be reckoned with.

"Good luck," I told him.

Not even I can handle a drunk Kate Kavanagh on my own.


With my arms braced over the cold toilet seat, I hung my head into the bowl and let out a low moan.

"Ana? Ana?" Christian's panicked voice flooded the suite, swiftly followed by the slam of a door. "Ana!"

"In… here…"

I couldn't lift my head for fear of bringing up more of my stomach contents. It was a wonder I had anything left inside me. I had pulled almost every muscle in my back and stomach, each retch bringing pain to my torso.

Within a few seconds, I felt Christian's hands on me.

He crouched beside me, throwing his phone and key-card somewhere behind us, his hands reaching up into my hair.

"For fuck's sake, what happened?" he asked. "What's wrong? Are you okay?"

"One question at a time," I groaned. I pushed myself up and met his worried eyes. "I felt really hot and then I started puking. I can't stop."

He rubbed my upper back, his other hand peeling my hair from my face.

"When did it come on?"

"The puking? Less than an hour ago," I shrugged and immediately regretted it. I retched again. "Oh god… why is this a thing? I end up sick every time we travel."

"How much did you have to drink?" he checked.

"Not much," I replied. "I only had a couple drinks. I'm not even drunk, that's the worst of it."

I had avoided too much alcohol to prevent this kind of thing from happening.

He pursed his lips, thinking.

"And security was with you all night?"

"Of course," I nodded slowly. I knew what he was thinking. "No one has slipped me anything. I know they were paying particular attention to my drinks. It's nothing like that."

"It was just a thought," he said, holding up his hand. "You never know who's lurking. Any old nut job could be hanging around."

"It's probably stomach flu or something," I guessed.

Before he could say anything else, his phone began dancing along the floor tiles. He huffed and went in search of it.

"Hey," he answered the call. He dropped down beside me again, crossing his legs. He mouthed the word 'Elliot' to me. "I'm with her now… Did you find Kate and Mia? Oh… What? Are you serious?"

"What?" I muttered. "What is it?"

He shook his head at me.

"Right," he said to Elliot. "Has Mia got security with her? Good… Call me if you need anything. Okay, bye."

"Christian, what's wrong?" I fretted, feeling a cold shiver ripple through me. "Is –"

"Kate's sick too," he replied, sighing heavily. "Elliot just got to her when she started vomiting. He found her half-slumped in a trash can. He's taking her to their room."

"Mia?"

"She's being looked after," he confirmed. "She's fine."

I paused for a moment, thinking about what this meant.

Both me and Kate were now sick. It could be a virus. We had spent most of the evening together…

"Oh…" I breathed.

"What?" Christian frowned.

"At dinner, what did you eat?"

"Steak," he said.

"Elliot had the same as you?"

He nodded.

"And Mia had pasta, right?" I checked.

"Yes. Why?"

"Kate and I had seafood," I reminded him. "We both had lobster."

His eyes widened, his jaw clenching.

"You've got food poisoning," he growled. "Those bastards fucking poisoned you!"

I didn't have the energy to try to calm him down. He started ranting, going blue in the face as he called the hotel chefs every insult possible. Instead of saying anything, I shuffled closer to him and curled into his chest.

"I could swing for those bastards," he grunted. He instinctively wrapped his arms around me. "I'll have that kitchen shut down. I'll sue the fucking ass off them. I'll demand –"

"Enough," I murmured.

My single utterance silenced him.

"No suing people tonight," I continued, rubbing my head into his shirt. "No shouting. Please…"

He exhaled a long sigh, but accepted my request.

"Tomorrow then," he huffed. He kissed the top of my head. "I'll call down to reception, get them to send up some ice and ginger ale."

"I've never had food poisoning before. This sucks."

"I've had it and it's horrible," he acknowledged. "But we'll ride it out together. Don't worry."

"How long does it last?"

"Could be days before you recover completely," he explained.

"No…" I moaned, sinking further into him. "I don't like it. Make it stop."

"I wish I could," he said, kissing me again. "I'll call Grace and ask for her advice. There has to be something you can take to speed things up."

He picked up his phone again and began typing out a message to his mother.

"I'm sorry for spoiling your night," I muttered.

"You haven't ruined anything," he shushed me. "It's late. It was time to call it a night."

"Did you have fun?"

"Not as much fun as I would have had if I was with you."

I smiled weakly hearing that.

"I hear you won a lot of money?" he asked. I nodded. "That's my girl. We should have a healthy donation to offer in that case."

"We will?"

"Nearly a million. I'll round it up, though."

I yanked my head up and he laughed.

"When I play poker, I don't play for match sticks," he shrugged. "Elliot's lucky I covered his buy in fee. He'd never have been allowed to play otherwise."

"You didn't bankrupt your brother, did you?"

"Who do you take me for?" he winked, a smirk crossing his lips. "Hey, think of the positives here."

"Like what?"

"We'll be helping a charity that means a lot to us," he said. I nodded. "And you made it to a toilet this time. There isn't a single drop of puke on me."

"Yet," I added. "There's still time for that."

I promptly turned back to the toilet, bowing my head again as I heaved.

"In sickness and in health," Christian muttered under his breath. "I'll get you a damp cloth."

"Love you…"