Running Around Royal (Prince Harry #4)

Chapter Seventy

Landing in Port Moresby, Papua New Guinea, the royal couple exited the airplane to bright flashes of light. While the duke and duchess looked absolutely amazing, it wasn't an ideal moment. Both looked tired from their previous day, and their upcoming day was still on the horizon. In the dark, the royal couple waved to well-wishers and photographers. The duke's hand slid down his wife's back, leading her to the car, guiding her away. Thankfully, the duchess didn't mind. 

Once inside the car, the smile was gone. While she was happy to have safely landed and she was excited to see the country, all of that needed to wait until the sun was up in the morning. The duchess wanted sleep.

In the hotel, Meredith changed and climbed into bed. With her head on the pillow, she thought about reaching for the book beside the bed, but then she decided against her. Her vision was going blurry, and her head thumped a bit. She knew she didn't have a migraine coming on at least; she was just super thirsty. Drinking water, it didn't dull the headache, but her vision became great again.

Harry came inside the room, and he climbed into the bed beside his wife. His fever was gone, but he still had a snotty nose. When he tried to pull her into a kiss, Meredith kicked away. "Harry," she groaned as he released her. "You're still sick."

"You don't want to be sick too?" he asked, settling back into the bed.

"I think you already got me sick." Meredith leaned back in the bed again.

He put a hand behind his head to prop himself up. "Do you have a fever?"

"No."

"Do you have a runny nose?"

"No."

"What do you have?"

Meredith said slowly, "I... may have..." she chose her words wisely, "vomited." Harry's eyes grew wide, and she was quick to calm the situation. "Don't worry about. It's nothing, and it's not a lot," she lied. It had been, like, every day, but she knew what they were going to say. Meredith didn't want to hear it. "It's fine," she repeated.

Harry didn't believe her. "Did you tell Jessica?"

"No."

"Did you tell Bella?"

Meredith wasn't able to remember the last time she actually spoke to Bella. "No."

"Who have you told?"

"You."

Harry sighed and leaned back on the bed. "Is it because of the migraines?"

"I haven't had a migraine for a while," she said. However, if this conversation continued, then it was possibly going to happen. "It could have been motion. I did get sick on the boat-- but no one saw it. No one knows."

"I'm not concerned about that, Mere." Harry hopped up in the bed. "I am concerned that you might have some sort of disease--"

Meredith hushed him. "Don't speak too loudly. Jessica will hear you, and she's already up my ass." Harry didn't question that, so Meredith went on, "If it happens again, I'll tell you." Even as the words came out, she wasn't so sure with how Harry was acting. Yet, Meredith was going to tell him anyway. "Don't be concerned, Harry. I'm sure it's nothing."

"I'm supposed to be concerned, Mere. I'm your husband."

"I don't think that's your job."

"Then what is?" he asked, coming closer to her. Harry's warm breath made goosebumps appear on her skin. His ginger hair was tussled. Moving even closer to her, Harry planted kissed on her exposed skin. Meredith watched him with an arched eyebrow.