Chapter 5 - The President's Nanny

"I'm thirsty," at last I heard his voice.

His voice was hoarse but still pleasing to the ears. 

Right away, I strode up and went to get water for him. 

Closing the door behind me, I heard General Rossini booming laughter. 

I frowned hearing him laugh. 

How could he laugh when the President was lying on the bed because of his injury?

As I came back, a solemn atmosphere enveloped the room. 

Cautiously, I walked towards the bed and placed the tray on the nightstand. 

I poured water in the glass before helping the president to sit up. 

I couldn't see the president's reaction but I could feel his warm breath on my neck as I helped him sit and propped his back with pillows. 

I reached out for the glass of water and handed it to the president. 

He didn't lift his hand to take it from me and just stared at me. 

I smiled faintly, knowing what he meant and lifted the cup to his mouth. 

I couldn't complain to him. 

After all, he's our beloved president and he's my patient. 

My heart jumped when I saw his piercing gray eyes were trained at me. 

I was flustered by the way he looked at me, resulting in my hands shaking. 

Because of this he choked from the water and coughed. 

"I'm sorry, Mr. President," I said in panic while putting the cup on the nightstand and took a napkin to wipe his soaked hospital gown. 

He held my wrist as I dried his chest with the napkin. 

Confused, I looked at him. But I noted the temperature of his hand. It was hot. 

"Enough," he said coldly. 

My heart trembled, thinking that I had offended him. 

I withdrew my hand and took the thermometer to check his temperature. 

Again, I was bewildered. 

He has no fever but his hand was hot. 

I swallowed. This was my first time encountering something like this. 

What was this? 

"Ahem," General Rossini cleared his throat, snapping me away from my thoughts. 

I stood up and looked at him, waiting for him to speak. 

"Captain Smith, you will personally prepare the President's food while he stays here to recuperate," his words made me smile. 

I was amused. I'm not only his doctor but his personal chef. 

Somehow, I felt I would become the president's nanny. 

"And the president does not like his body, sticky and stinky. So you need to help him clean his body," he added, confirming my hunch. 

I wanted to retort. But I am a soldier. 

The night I forgot that I was a soldier and snapped at the president was embarrassing. 

I would never allow myself to be humiliated again. 

Anyway, it wasn't my first time seeing a male body. I'm a medical doctor. A surgeon. 

"Yes,sir," I answered resolutely. 

"I really don't have a problem speaking to a smart person like you, Captain Smith," General Rossini praised me again. 

"Thank you, sir," I want to shake my head and laugh but knowing that we aren't alone, I can't treat my superior casually. I have to respect him. 

I checked my wrist watch and it was about time to cook dinner for the president. 

Slowly, I turned to the president and I was surprised that he was already looking at me. 

But, I never paid attention to it and opened my mouth to speak. 

"Mr. President, do you have any food allergies?" I have to be careful with what I prepare.

It would cost my head if I served him food that he was allergic with. 

"I don't," was his curt answer but I wasn't petty enough to hold a grudge with the kind of reaction he has toward me and just smiled. 

"What do you prefer for dinner, Mr. President?" I asked again. 

He might not have a food allergy but thinking about what food to prepare is the real challenge now. 

"Anything would do," he answered without averting his gaze from me.

There was no evident trace of emotion on his face to guess what he thought or felt talking to me. 

But, judging from his cold and impatient tone, he doesn't want to talk to me.  

"Please, excuse me," I said. 

I stepped backward before turning to leave. 

I prepared a meal for an injured patient like him. 

I was glad that he has no food allergy and that anything would be fine for him. 

It would be really hard for me if he has a food allergy or was a picky eater. 

However, he's the president of the nation. I have to give my best. 

My nana taught me how to cook and I could cook well but I am not a professional chef. 

This gave me a headache. 

Normally, it would only take me 30 minutes to one hour to prepare a meal. 

This time, it took me two hours just for his meal alone.