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Asha put her fingertip on the picture and traced it slowly. “These two people?” She sighed. “Do I look like I’m related to these two? My mother was a Caucasian American, but my father was an Indian immigrant. I don’t look anything like these two people. I can tell they’re related. They look a lot alike.” A brief look of regret and sadness flickered in the depths of her dark eyes.
“They have the same mother and father. There’s a chance that they could be your half-siblings, related on your mother’s side,” Kade answered, his heart clenching as he saw the wistful expression on her face. She was trying to put on a brave front, but she looked so weary, so alone, and it made him want to shelter her from anything and everything that made her feel that way. He wondered when she’d last eaten a good meal or slept for a decent length of time.
Looking away from the picture and dropping her hand, she pierced him with a doubtful look. “That’s not possible. There’s no way I’m related to them. Please leave me alone,” she answered sadly and dejectedly as she headed for the door.
Kade grasped her upper arm before she could make any forward progress. “Don’t you want to know for sure? What if youarerelated?”
Shrugging her arm away from him, she answered, “I’m Indian.”
“But you were born here? To an American mother?”
“An American mother and an Indian father who I can’t even remember,” she agreed, her body starting to tremble. “I was born here, but my foster parents were from India. I was raised as an Indian.”
Kade had felt the heat of her body through the thin material of her shirt. “Are you okay?” He lifted a hand to her face, only to find it burning hot. “You have a fever.”
She’s undernourished, exhausted…and ill. Fuck! Doesn’t she have anyone out there who gives a shit about her?
“I’m fine,” she replied weakly. “I’m just a little under the weather. And it’s been a long day.”
Bullshit. She’s sick. I can see her starting to sweat, and she looks like she’s about ready to keel over.
“You’re sick.” Kade put an arm around her waist to steady her.
She moaned softly, leaning her weight against his body as though she wasn’t able to stand without help. “I need to go. I can’t be sick.”
“You’re staying,” Kade answered hotly. There was no way he was letting her walk out the door in her condition. She’d be on the floor before she ever left the hotel.
She wiggled out of his grip and headed unsteadily for the door, Kade hot on her heels.
She opened the door and turned to look at him, her eyes bright with tears and probably fever. “Please. Just leave me alone. My life is difficult enough right now. I can’t deal with anything else. I’m not related to those people in the picture, and I wish you’d stop following me.”
Kade opened his mouth to reply, but he stopped short as her body began crumpling to the ground. He caught her just in time, scooping her into his arms and slamming the door closed. Taking her to the big bed, he laid her on the comforter. Staring down at her, he realized two things immediately: she was very sick, andthiswas the woman in that unsettling drawing he had seen in her collection. It had been a self-portrait, a woman pouring out her own emotions on a drawing pad.
“Fuck,” Kade uttered irritably, realizing that Asha wasn’t really very coherent. Her eyes were closed and her body was as limp as a wet noodle. Her thin shirt was drenched with perspiration, and her skin was fiery hot.
Her eyes flickered open momentarily, and she squinted at him, as though she were slightly confused. “I love your shirt. It’s so…happy and colorful,” she murmured softly, attempting a weak smile. “I really need to go now. I have things to do,” she said groggily, her voice lacking conviction.
Kade would have smiled if he wasn’t so panicked about having a woman this sick on his bed. She was as weak as a kitten and he doubted she could even get to the edge of the bed without help. He admired her tenacity, but she wasn’t going anywhere on her own steam.
“Yeah, wearegoing,” Kade answered, wrapping her now trembling body in a blanket from the bed. “To the hospital.” He might be able to do minor first aid on sports injuries, but he had no idea what to do with a woman as sick as Asha was at the moment.
Her eyes flew open wide, her expression now panicked and her teeth chattering. “I c-can’t g-go there—it’s expensive…” Her voice trailed off as she started coughing so hard that it rocked her fragile body.
Fuck! She’s sick as hell, and all she’s worried about is the expense?
Her illness scared the shit out of him. In fact, it terrified him almost as much as the possessive, protective instincts he was experiencing as he realized how vulnerable she was at the moment. But mostly, it bugged the hell out of him that she was actually frightened. He didn’t ever want this woman to be scared of him or anything else on the planet. Why...he wasn’t quite certain, but he’d leave that mystery for another time. All he wanted at that very moment was to see her well and healthy. In fact, the need to get her that way was about to become an obsession.
He lifted her, blanket and all, and hauled her off to the hospital.
Asha came awake slowly, her head foggy and her entire body aching. Blinking several times to clear her vision, she tried to remember where she was and what had happened to her. Strangely, all she could remember was Kade.
Kade…forcing her to wake up to give her medication.
Kade…plying her with fluids.
Kade’s reassuring voice as she fell asleep, so exhausted she couldn’t keep her eyes open.
Asha tried to scramble into a sitting position, looking frantically around the room, her heart thundering as she realized she was still in Kade’s very nice hotel room.