Two Sighted Page 6

  “If you’re sure?” He couldn’t resist trying one more time.

  She yawned. “Positive.” A second later she was stretching out on top of her quilt-covered bed, still fully clothed.

  He couldn’t help but smile. “Don’t mind me, I’ll see my way out.”

  “Kyle?”

  “Yeah, baby?”

  “Could I have…?”

  Damn if her eyes weren’t begging him for something. His cock stirred to life. If she even hinted she wanted him to stay he’d be a goner because no way could he lie with her in a bed and not touch her. And from the distressed look on her face, there was no way he could do anything but hold her.

  “Can you have what?” he growled.

  Her gaze met his, the slightly glazed look in her eyes making him feel like a sex-crazed heel.

  “A good-night kiss?” she whispered huskily.

  Shit. Shit. He swallowed, half afraid he wouldn’t be able to stop if he got that close to her, but damned if he’d walk out when she clearly wasn’t used to asking for even something as simple as a kiss.

  He leaned over her warm body and pushed the bangs off her forehead with two fingers. She turned into his touch with a sigh.

  “Did you take those pills, sweetheart?”

  “Yes, Dad.”

  He snorted and placed a chaste kiss on her cheek. “I’m feeling anything but dad-ish right now, baby, and I’m trying very hard to keep my hands off your body.”

  Eyes widening, Aislinn sucked in a breath and licked her lips. He could have kicked himself.

  “Thank you.”

  “For what?” Kyle inhaled her scent.

  “For not pushing it.”

  “We will make love, Aislinn. That’s a promise.”

  Eyes wide, she pursed her lips. “I know.”

  He nuzzled the soft skin between her jaw and shoulder, licking and nibbling his way to her earlobe and down to her mouth, where he met her open, eager lips. Her admission was all he needed. She wanted it too. He tangled his tongue with hers, rubbing along the velvet length, tasting her sweetness. It would have to do for tonight.

  Breathing heavily, Aislinn retreated. He wondered if she realized her hands were tucked into the open collar of his shirt. Standing slowly, he unfolded the afghan from the foot of her bed and covered her with it.

  “Tomorrow morning, Aislinn. I will be here.” He made it a fact, not a question.

  “I’ll see you then.”

  He nodded once. “Sleep tight, sweetheart. Oh, and one more thing.” Kyle pulled his wallet out of his back pocket and retrieved a business card. “My home phone number. Call it if you need anything in the night. Anything, Aislinn.”

  “I will.”

  “You better,” he grunted and turned to leave before he was tempted to stay, whether she wanted him to or not.

  The vomiting started about a half an hour after Kyle left. One minute she was sleeping, the next vicious cramps seized her stomach. Aislinn had barely made it to the toilet the first time. She hadn’t the second time—ten minutes later. Using a towel, she’d sopped up the mess and thrown it in the bathtub to deal with later.

  Now she was on her fourth trip in a total of twenty minutes. This wasn’t the flu. Her stomach clamped down and lights burst behind her tightly squeezed eyes. She’d never felt this bad in her entire life. Curled up in the fetal position on the bathroom floor, she wondered if she was even capable of making it back into bed. Or if she wanted to try. Another wave of nausea struck. Aislinn bucked into a kneeling position and dry heaved violently.

  Slumping to the floor once more, she tried to remember what she’d eaten during the day. Lunch with Christina at their normal café. She’d had the chicken tortilla soup, same as every other time. Dinner with Kyle tonight. The pasta. Aside from its spiciness…

  Her stomach revolted but she couldn’t find the energy to move from her spot. Her belly was empty anyway. Tears sprang to her eyes. Sweat plastered her hair to her face and her blouse to her body. She needed help. And the phone was so far away. She glared across the expanse of bathroom and bedroom to the portable phone on her nightstand.

  Who could she call? Christina was her only hope. She couldn’t move. Didn’t want to move for fear it would set off another spasm. Breathing through her nose, Aislinn closed her eyes. A chill on top of her sweat-drenched body sent a shiver through her.

  After another fierce round of dry heaves, she decided she had to try to call someone. At this moment 911 was looking like a beautiful option.

  She crawled, inching her way over the mile-wide distance to the nightstand. At the foot of the bed she had to stop to puke and pressed her head against the cool wood of the footboard.

  She was dying. From the inside out. She’d never get to make love to Kyle. The swirly pattern of the rug beneath her danced and moved. She just needed a little nap. Collapsing face first, Aislinn did her best to stay awake. Not hard with the intense pain seizing her belly. The coarse fabric of the rug abraded her cheek adding immensely to her discomfort. She gauged the remaining space between her and help. Her vision swam and she feared in a few minutes she’d pass out without making any call.

  Garnering all the strength she had left, Aislinn army crawled to the stand and reached up to feel for the phone. Finally finding it, she pulled it off. A small piece of paper fluttered down from the top of the table and landed on her nose before sliding to the ground.

  She groaned as if the paper had been a rock shot from a cannon.

  Kyle’s business card.

  Aislinn fumbled the card and squinted at the rapidly blurring numbers. His home phone. Call me anytime, he’d said.

  Dialing the tiny buttons proved nearly impossible for her shaky fingers but at last the call went through. Too weak to lift the phone to her ear, she left it on the floor.

  “Hello?” Kyle’s rough voice answered on the first ring.

  She sobbed in relief. “Kyle?”

  Christ, he’d never been so scared. Hearing Aislinn’s panicked voice on the end of the line had stopped his heart. One word. Kyle. It was all she’d said before going silent.

  He’d shouted through the phone and gotten no response. The line was still open though. He knew because he’d tried calling her several times on his cell with no luck.

  Kyle took the turn onto her street with a screech of tires. Her house was dark and quiet when he pulled into the driveway behind her Civic. Having no idea what was happening not an hour after he’d left her, he’d grabbed his SIG from its case and bolted, prepared to take anyone out who got in his way.

  He peeked through the living-room window where the drapes didn’t quite meet. Nothing. As much as he wanted to bust the door down and go in guns blazing, he couldn’t put her in that kind of danger. Kyle worked his way around the house. He saw nothing out of the ordinary. No clues as to what the problem might be.

  Had she let someone in the house? Had David found her again? Was he too late?

  His stomach twisted in knots. This was worse than any mission he’d ever gone on with his SEAL team. This was personal. Training instinct kicked in by the time he got to the back door. Taking a deep breath, Kyle closed his eyes and focused on what needed to be done.

  Using the butt of the gun, he punched out a pane of glass from the door leading to the kitchen. Hopefully the tinkling of glass wouldn’t alert anyone inside to his presence. He could have used more stealth but had a feeling there wasn’t time for detailed planning.

  Kyle reached in and unlocked both the deadbolt and the knob’s lock. He remembered seeing a chain lock too when he’d been in the kitchen earlier. Her smart, extra-added safety measure was a tad unfortunate for Kyle. He turned his wrist and pushed further into the small opening, hissing as a shard of glass cut into his forearm.

  Ignoring the pain, he groped for the chain and slid it free. A second later he stood in the dark kitchen listening for the slightest sound. He got it. Down the hall towards her bedroom. He searched his brain for what he’d heard. H
eaving was the only thing he could come up with. No other noises intruded.

  Son of a bitch. Aislinn was sick and he’d been outside her house in SEAL mode. Stuffing the gun in his jeans at the small of his back, Kyle slid the deadbolt home and raced to her room.

  “Shit.” He dropped to his knees and carefully turned the woman he loved onto her back. “Sweetheart. Talk to me.” He patted her pale, sweaty cheek and her eyelashes fluttered.

  “Aislinn,” he said with more force.

  She groaned and tried to pull her knees to her chest.

  “Christ. Come on, baby.” He yanked the quilt off her bed and after covering her with it, lifted her into his arms.

  He kicked the front door closed with his heel. Halfway down the walk Aislinn jackknifed in his arms, rapping his chin with her forehead and crying out in pain. She retched only nothing came out.

  “How the fuck long you been doing this, baby?” he growled. Since the second he’d left her asleep on her bed most likely, if she only had dry heaves now. She cried and turned her head into his chest, gripping his shirt with a weak fist.

  Kyle yanked open the car door, placed his precious burden on the passenger seat and jogged to the other side. A quick phone call later and the emergency room knew he was on the way.

  Chapter Six

  Kyle paced the cubicle Aislinn had been placed in, hands on hips. He’d filled out paperwork, listing her as his wife to hurry things along. The ploy had worked. Or maybe it was the fact he was Kyle Turner III and they knew any lack of insurance on Aislinn’s part wouldn’t be an issue. Who knew? The end result was that she’d been brought into the ER without having to wait her turn in the waiting room. Or maybe it had been the look on his face. Could have also been the fact she had puked three times while he stood holding her at the triage desk. They’d offered him a wheelchair but he’d refused. Instead they’d rushed her into their present cubicle.

  The doctor had taken blood, inquired whether she’d been out of the country, asked what she’d eaten lately, and finally—after Kyle had impatiently answered almost every question without strangling the man—had given Aislinn a shot of something for the nausea. It seemed to be working. The last ten minutes her stomach had been quiet. In the car she hadn’t gone three without her tummy erupting. She’d scared the shit out of him.

  Not even a buddy of his who’d gotten some nasty bug down in an undisclosed South American location had been as sick as Aislinn.

  Kyle had a pretty good idea what had caused what the doctor had determined to be food poisoning. In the morning he’d send TJ to her house to retrieve the pasta and find out what the fuck was actually in it.

  The restaurant they’d eaten in was well known and catered to the wealthy. Kyle had a hard time believing they’d made a bad batch of pasta. It could have happened but after dwelling on the possibility the last half hour, he was not inclined to go that route. Not when he knew there were people capable of deliberately doing him harm by any means. Since it was a little early for any of his possible enemies to have targeted Aislinn, he had a feeling David Tarkell had succeeded in finding her yet again.

  From what he’d seen at her house, he didn’t think David had entered her dwelling space. Yet. He had two options, he thought, swiping her bangs off her forehead. She turned into his touch on a sigh.

  One, he could try and convince her to stay with him for the next couple of days so his men would have time to get out there and find the bastard before he was able to get to Aislinn again. Two, he could tell her what he thought was happening and hope like hell she didn’t panic and run. He liked the former plan much better.

  “Mr. Turner.”

  Kyle turned to the doctor.

  “I’m going to release your wife into your care with this prescription.” He finished scribbling on the tablet he held, ripped off the top sheet and handed it to Kyle. “It should help her get some rest. The shot will last several more hours.”

  Kyle nodded. He’d glue her to his bed if he had to, to make sure she got the rest.

  “If you’ve got any idea what she ate that might have caused this, I’d like to know, so we can keep our eyes open for any more possible cases. This kind of thing has to be reported so the FDA can intervene.”

  “I’m not sure where she ate today,” Kyle lied again, sticking to his original answer. “I’ll ask her about it when she wakes up.”

  The doctor accepted his answer. “If she starts vomiting again in the morning, get her in to her personal physician.”

  He’ll come to the house, trust me. “I will. Thank you.” He shook hands with the man.

  The doctor turned Kyle’s arm one way then the other. “That’s a pretty nasty scratch on your arm there. Do you want me to look at it?”

  Kyle stared at the blood on his arm. Where had…the glass. “No. It’s just a scratch.” He couldn’t tell him it was from the glass shattering when he’d broken into her house. He was supposed to be her husband.

  “Give it a good wash and a dab of antibiotic cream then.”

  “I will.” Kyle watched him walk away before turning back to Aislinn.

  “Aislinn, sweetheart.” He rubbed her cheek with the back of his knuckles. She was completely wrung out and didn’t even stir.

  He had her in his bed, right where she belonged, within an hour.

  Aislinn sighed and turned onto her side, snuggling into the pillow that smelled so much like Kyle she had to smile. She inhaled his scent again, loving the dream currently occupying her sleep.

  “Nah, she’s still asleep. I need you to go over and get the pasta though.”

  She lifted an eyelid. There, staring back at her was Kyle, sprawled in a big overstuffed armchair, legs stretched out wide in front of him.

  “Hey, one eye,” he said, giving her a wink. “No, she just peeked at me. I want you to analyze it ASAP.”

  Who was he talking to and why was he in her room? She lifted her head, groaned and looked around in confusion.

  Not her room. One she’d never seen before and not one generic enough to be a hotel.

  “It’s mine,” Kyle stated, flipping his cell closed on his cheek.

  “How did…”

  “You get here?” he finished. “You don’t remember last night?”

  Aislinn closed her eyes and laid her head on the pillow. His pillow. The reason it smelled so much like him. Her stomach growled, bringing everything that had happened back.

  Mortified, she buried her face, hiding it from him. How many times had she puked? How many times had he seen her puke? Half the night was a blur, the other half she wanted to be. On top of it all, he’d carried her everywhere and she specifically remembered at one point upchucking on him. There could be nothing worse in life than throwing up on the man you were falling in love with.

  She took another quick peek at him. A roguish grin split his lips. Fabulous. He thought this was funny. Even funnier would be when she peed on his bed. The pressing need was making itself more than evident. No matter what, she’d have to get out of his bed and use the bathroom.

  Aislinn groaned again. She didn’t want to move. It was cozy and warm tucked under his covers.

  “Need to get up, sweetheart?” He chuckled.

  “I’m glad you find this so hysterical,” she mumbled, turning to face him.

  In a flash he was by her side, mere inches away. Tender fingers brushed her hair from her face.

  “There is nothing funny about what you went through last night, and I promise I’ll get to the bottom of it.”

  “To the bottom of what?” What the hell was he talking about? She got sick, called him and ended up here. What was there to get to the bottom of?

  “Aislinn, last night wasn’t a bout of flu. You were poisoned.”

  She sat up gingerly, aided by Kyle’s hands on her shoulders.

  “Go slow,” he said.

  “What do you mean, like, food poisoning?”

  He shrugged. “My guess is there was something in your pasta. Thank God
you didn’t eat the whole thing. If you’d had more, I can’t imagine you’d be with me right now.”

  “So, what, the sauce was bad? There’s not much in Pasta con Broccoli that can go bad, Kyle.”

  He shook his head. “No. I don’t think it had anything to do with the restaurant. I don’t know much right now, but I have people looking into it.”

  Confused, she looked at him, trying to figure out what he wasn’t saying. If the food wasn’t tainted then the only other option would be that someone had done it on…

  “You think David did this?” she whispered.

  Kyle rubbed his hands up and down her arms in a reassuring gesture. It did little to ward the chill quickly taking over. So much for finding a safe place. When would she be free of her ex? Never? Would she have to look over her shoulder for the rest of her life?

  “I’m not saying anything, Aislinn.”

  “But it’s what you’re thinking.”

  “He’s a possibility, yes.” He wiped a thumb across her bottom lip when she sucked it in to bite on it nervously. “Hey. Let’s get you up. Use the toilet and I’ll run a bath, since I don’t think you should stand in the shower when you’re this weak. You can slide into a shirt of mine afterwards, and if you’re really good, I’ll bring you some soup to try to get down.”

  She wrinkled her nose even as her eyes filled with tears.

  “Ah, baby.” He laid her head on his shoulder and stroked her hair.

  When was the last time someone had taken care of her? Probably not since her teenage years. And it sure the hell hadn’t been a man.

  “I won’t let him hurt you.” He pulled back and took her face between his hands. “I want you to stay here with me until we find him.”

  It wasn’t a request and she wasn’t stupid. Staying alone was the furthest from a good idea as she could get. She nodded and he swiped away a tear from her cheek with his thumb.

  “Thank God,” he rasped. “I thought you’d be one of those independent types who thought you could do it all on your own.”