Arrested By Love (20 page)

Chapter Thirteen

The next day, which was Sunday, Kyle loaded his car with all the equipment he thought he'd need for an extended siege, drove to Tiffany's neighborhood, parked on a nearby street, where he could watch her house through binoculars, and began his vigil. It was early yet, only 6 A.M., so all was quiet.

When the Morgan's left for church at 10, Tiffany wasn't among them, nor was Mrs. Morgan, which meant she was probably staying home to take care of Tiffany. Though he doubted Patrick or Chrissy could see him, Kyle slunk down in his seat to make sure he wasn't sighted.

Father and daughter returned at nearly quarter to twelve and went inside. About fifteen minutes later, Kyle saw Chrissy leaving the house dressed in a form-fitting T-shirt and jeans just about the same time a guy rolled up on a motorcycle. The biker must be Chrissy's new boyfriend. What was his name? Willy, Wally? Kyle couldn't remember what she'd called him, but laid odds that the relationship wouldn't last more than a month.

A biker? Really? When the youth made room for Chrissy to sit behind him, Kyle noticed neither of them were wearing helmets. That foolishness angered him so much that he almost slammed down his binoculars.

Chrissy should be seriously spanked for not showing an ounce of the common sense she'd been born with. She knew better, and the fact that the kid was clueless about the ways he should be protecting his girl made Kyle even angrier.

He was tempted to go after them and make a citizen's arrest, and if Chrissy mouthed off at him again, he'd show her exactly what a domineering older brother did to his kid sister, by turning her over his knee and spanking her insolent butt.

Despite the satisfaction that might bring him, Kyle stayed where he was. He had enough trouble just handling Tiffany. So, someone else would need to take responsibility for Chrissy. But that clearly wasn't going to be the knucklehead she was currently dating.

That pimply-faced kid was probably only one or two years older than Chrissy herself, which made him way too young to know how to handle a Morgan girl. Chrissy shouldn't even be dating, in Kyle's opinion. She was starting her junior year in the fall, so what she should be doing was studying for college. Putting the kids out of his mind, Kyle returned to watching the house.

Chrissy and her biker boyfriend returned close to midnight. Yeah, school was out, but a girl her age should be home no later than 11 P.M.. Not your problem, Kyle, he reminded himself. All the lights in the house were out by twelve-thirty, and he'd seen no sign of Tiffany all day long. Deciding to wait out the night in his car, Kyle pushed the seat back and tried to get some sleep.

Bleary eyed, Kyle was back at the binoculars at six again. He expected Patrick to be leaving for work about seven. Patrick commuted into the city by train, which was a forty-five minute ride. When eight o'clock rolled by and no one left the house, Kyle knew something had to be up. Patrick could be on vacation, but Kyle doubted it. He continued to watch and was surprised to see Chrissy walk out of the house carrying what looked like her mother's purse. She was followed shortly by her mother and father who appeared to be holding up a skinny teenager.

Shaking his head, Kyle increased the power on his binoculars and watched as the scrawny red head with dull green eyes suddenly turned toward the bushes then fell to her knees and vomited. Holy shit! That was Tiffany. His Tiffany. Throwing down the binoculars Kyle started his car and sped over to the house. Had he been on duty, he would have given himself a ticket.

Torn between stark fear, shock, and blazing anger, he was ripping out his key and leaping from the car before he'd even engaged the power break. That was his girl who was sick, and he needed to be with her, at her side, helping her, feeding her.

God, she had to have lost over thirty pounds, which would bring her to an anorexic weight of ninety. He'd last seen her six weeks ago Friday. How could she have changed so much in so little time? Hadn't she eaten or slept at all during the six weeks? Charging toward her like a mad lion out to protect his mate, Kyle wasn't going to take no for an answer. And Lord help her father if he even attempted to try and stop him.

Patrick and her mother were helping Tiffany back to her feet, when Kyle stepped in. Tiffany could barely even walk on her own, she was so weak.

"Don't worry, Pumpkin, I've got you," Patrick Morgan murmured.

"Patrick," Kyle said firmly. "I'll take her now."

Tiffany turned and glared at him. "Get away from me."

He could see the dark circles under her eyes more clearly now as he shook his head. Then wrapping his arms about her, he gently picked her up. "Sorry, babe. That's not going to happen."

She repeatedly beat her fists against his shoulders in protest, but he barely felt the impact. "Put me down!" Though she was shouting at him, her hoarse voice made it sound more like a croak.

"We were going to take her to the doctor," Patrick Morgan told Kyle.

"Looks like you should have done that a few weeks ago," Kyle said, frowning at Tiffany when she landed a fist on his ear. "Stop that right now, sweetie, before I decide you need a paddling more than you need a doctor."

Tiffany was breathing so hard, Kyle could almost see steam coming out of her ears, but she ceased fighting him. Then he saw her eyes welling with tears.

"Shh, Tiff," Kyle said drawing her closer. "It's all right. I'm here now, and I'm going to take care of you."

She shook her head, but made no further protest. Her brief resistance had used up all her remaining energy so she laid her head against his chest and cried softly.

Patrick gave Kyle a nod. "I'd argue with you, son, except that's more energy than she's shown in the past six weeks. I'll let you take her for now, but, Kyle, that's my little girl you're holding there. If she decides she would rather be home with us than with you, I will do everything in my power to get her back. Just so we understand each other."

"I wouldn't have it any other way, sir," Kyle assured as he turned and carried Tiffany back to his car.

"I don't want to be with you," she said quietly as he gently placed her in the passenger seat and buckled her in."

Holding her chin, he gazed into her eyes. "And I think you're lying, little girl. Do you remember what I do to little girls who lie?"

She nodded, then started to cry again. He pressed back the seat so she would be more comfortable then handed her a small box of tissues. "Just relax. I'm going to take you to the doctor first, and afterwards you and I will have a long talk where you can list all the reasons why you hate me."

As he slid into the car, he heard her say, "I don't hate you."

"Just close your eyes and rest, Tiff. That's your only job for right now."

"I'm sure it's just the flu."

Kyle started the car and backed out of the driveway before he glanced over at her. "How long have you been feeling ill?"

"For a few weeks now," she answered tiredly.

"Well, you could have a really bad bug, but we'll let the doctor take a look and see what he says."

"I'm afraid of what he's going to say," she admitted, and he could tell she was a lot more scared than she wanted to let on.

Reaching for her hand, he gave her fingers a light squeeze. "I'll be right beside you, Tiff, so you have no reason to be afraid any longer. All right?"

She held onto his hand and closed her eyes.

Kyle parked the car, then walked around to get Tiffany. She'd actually fallen asleep. So he carefully undid her seat belt, then lifted her into his arms. She weighed next to nothing and he got the brief impression she was simply wasting away.

She woke up as he started to carry her and put her hand over her mouth. "Kyle. I think I'm going to be sick again."

"Breathe through your nose," he ordered. "And try to relax. When was the last time you had something to eat?"

"I haven't felt up to eating much for several weeks now. Please, I really think I need you to put me down."

"We're almost there. I'll take you into the restroom first, if you want."

"You can't go into the ladies room with me!" She sounded scandalized.

"Honey. Right now, you are not going anywhere without me. If you need to throw up, I'm going to be right there beside you. Here we are," he said, pushing his way into the ladies room and carrying Tiffany into a stall, then slowly and carefully letting her down until her feet were on the floor. Then he held her arms and watched her."

She stood there for a moment, just breathing, then said, "I need to sit down."

"Is this because you feel dizzy, or do you need me to pull your sweats and panties down for you first?"

"I don't know," she said and started to cry.

He drew her into his arms, and held her close as he rubbed her back. When she gave a little moan that sounded more like pleasure than distress, he said, "Feeling better?"

"A little. The rubbing feels good."

"Okay, I want to pick you up and carry you into the doctor's office now."

"No. Just put your arm around me and let me walk with you. I don't want to appear like a total invalid."

"Well, I don't want you wearing yourself out, so we'll compromise. I'll carry you to the door, then support you as you walk with me into the waiting room."

She nodded. He knew she wanted to argue, but she didn't feel strong enough to do it. So, picking her up again, he grew inordinately pleased when she put her arms about his neck."

When he didn't put her down at the door, she scowled at him. "Kyle. We had an agreement."

"I know, but I'm being selfish. I don't want to let you go, so you're just going to have to humor me for a little bit." He settled her in one of the waiting room chairs, then said, "Stay here. I'll sign you in."

Walking up to the reception desk, he signed the register then leaned in through the window. "I have Tiffany Morgan with me. She's here to see Dr. Sloan, and she's not well at all. If possible, I'd like to have her wait in one of the examining rooms rather than out here.

The receptionist nodded. "Let me call Dr. Sloan's assistant, Nancy. She'll be able to help you."

Kyle nodded, but remained standing at the desk. When a nurse stepped out, he saw the name on the chart she held and walked over to her before she could call Tiffany's name. "Nancy, right?" When she nodded, he said, "I'm here with Miss Morgan. Do you have a room where she can lie down and wait for Doctor Sloan?"

"And you are...?"

"Kyle Sinclair, her fiance, and soon to be husband."

Nancy nodded. Then glanced over at Tiffany who looked like she was about to fall out of the chair. "You sure she shouldn't be at the hospital?"

"Not sure at all. If Dr. Sloan thinks that's where she should be, I'll take her there."

"Let's have a look at her first. Go ahead and get her Mr. Sinclair. I'll wait here."

"Thank you." Kyle walked back to pick Tiffany up again. She started to protest, but he shook his head. "Quiet. We're going to take you back to an examination room now. So, relax."

Tiffany glanced over at Nancy who gave her a smile then led them into a small examining room. Kyle carefully laid her down on the examining table, and pressed lightly on her chest when she tried to sit up. "You just stay there for a few minutes." Then Kyle walked to the other side and held Tiffany's hand while the nurse took Tiffany's temperature and blood pressure."

"Temp is 98.6. Blood pressure is 100 over 60. A little low. How are you feeling, Tiffany?"

"Like I'm going to throw up all the time."

"Headache?"

"Yes."

"Any other aches or pains?"

She glanced over at Kyle, who simply nodded for her to continue. With a sigh she said, "My breasts hurt."

"Okay. I'll get you a gown. Take everything off, and Dr. Sloan will come in and see you shortly."

"Everything?" Tiffany asked. "But I think I just have the flu."

Nancy nodded. "Maybe, but I think Dr. Sloan is going to want to give you a full examination today. It's been over a year for you, so it's time."

Tiffany shook her head. "No. I mean, I don't think it's--"

"Tiffany...." Kyle warned. "Let's let the doctor decide, shall we? I'll help her."

Nancy nodded, but Tiffany tried to sit up. "No!"

Kyle pressed a finger to her lips and pressed her back down. "Enough." Tiffany scowled at him so he said to Nancy. "Go ahead and leave us alone for a few minutes. She'll be ready."

When Nancy left, Tiffany said, "I don't need your help, and I don't.... What are you doing?"

"Helping you undress, sweetie. And if you give me any more argument, after I remove your sweat pants and panties, I 'm going to turn you over my knee and warm your seat up with a few firm swats until you settle down."

She started to struggle with him, but he held her shoulders. "Do you want a spanking, Tiffany? Because you're heading the right way for one right now."

"You're a bully, Kyle Sinclair."

"And you, love of my life, are acting like a brat. Now sit up so I can remove your top and bra." She folded her arms over her chest and shook her head.

"Feeling nauseated?"

"Not at the moment," she answered glaring defiantly at him.

"Good." That said, he lifted her, turned her over and started to bare her lower half first.

"No, Kyle! Please. I'm sorry."

He continued to undress her, lightly rubbing her as he did until she finally relaxed. Then helping her sit up again, he removed her top and bra. She was little more than skin and bones. Her breasts were a trifle larger, and her bottom still had a nice round curve to it, but the rest of her was comprised of only sharp, boney angles. Once she was totally nude, he helped her into the cloth gown, and covered her with a paper sheet.

"Okay, why don't you just lie back and relax?"

Then her teeth started to chatter. Kyle thought it might be just nerves, but rather than take a chance, he asked if they had a blanket. They didn't, but they lent him a doctor's coat to cover her with.

As he tucked it around her, Tiffany started to cry again. With a sigh, he helped her sit up and got on the table behind her.