by J. S. Scott
Kade knew he was really no different than Travis, football always being his escape, even when he was a kid. Winning a college football scholarship to play in Michigan had been one of the best things that had ever happened to him at the age of eighteen, taking him far away from the craziness of his life in Tampa. He’d come back to Florida to play as a pro because they’d made the best offer, but he’d spent half of his time on the road and the other half practicing. He’d purchased a beautiful home in Tampa years ago, but he’d rarely spent any time there until he’d had his accident. Amy had lived her own life in a luxury condo that Kade had paid for, refusing to take up residence with him unless he married her. Now, he was pretty sure that she was thanking her lucky stars that he hadn’t been ready for marriage.
Walking to the mini-bar, Kade reached into the small fridge and pulled out a beer. Screwing off the top, he took a large swig and thumbed through the room service menu. He was starving, and he managed to order up about half the menu items before he finished placing his order.
Restless, he took a quick shower and changed into a worn pair of jeans and an orange buttoned-down shirt with dancing rabbits of various colors decorating the material. Kade smiled, knowing Travis would hate his new shirt and Mia would tease him to death about it, but he didn’t care. He’d started out wearing gaudy shirts when he was an adolescent to amuse Mia. Living in their family madness, Kade would have done just about anything to make his little sister smile, since there had been very little to smile about when they were kids. Now, he wore the shirts because he actually liked them. They had become a part of him over the years, a small thing that seemed to lighten some of the shadows inside him. The guys on the team had ribbed him endlessly, but if there was one thing that Kade wasn’t insecure about, it was his manhood. He basically told them all to kiss his ass and wore whatever he wanted to make himself happy. After a while, his teammates had seen his attire as a source of entertainment, every one of them waiting to see what he’d wear next so they could give him hell about it. Really, Amy had been the only one who truly hated them, and she’d refused to be seen with him unless he was dressed in what she considered “normal clothes.”
Kade was just reaching for another beer when there was a knock on his door. Chucking the beer top in the trash, he took a long slug of his drink, fumbled with the bolt on the door and swung it open.
He froze, every muscle in his body seizing up all at once. He wasn’t sure how long he stood there, drowning in the chocolate-dark, wide eyes staring back at him from the doorway. Kade was stunned, his heart rate accelerating until it was pounding in his ears, the air leaving his lungs in a heavy whoosh, feeling like he’d taken a hard kick to the gut after a particularly rough quarterback sack.
Definitely not his food arriving from room service!
Kade had no doubt that the woman in front of him was Asha Paritala, but she wasn’t at all what he’d expected. She was dressed in a tie-dye shirt, the orange almost matching the shade he was wearing. Teal and green intermingled with the tangerine color of her top, making her look like an exotic flower. Long, flowing blue-black hair fell below her shoulders and down her back—straight, beautiful, and making him itch to reach out and touch it to see if it was as silky as it appeared. Her creamy skin was such a contrast to her dark hair and eyes that she looked like an exotic wet dream.
He had an instant hard-on as the scent of jasmine surrounded him, making him hard enough to cut through steel. She moved cautiously into the room when he held the door wider.
“Asha?” he croaked, his mouth still dry, his adrenaline beginning to course through his body. She was average height for a woman, but he dwarfed her. Still, she looked fragile, like the slightest breeze would blow her away. Obviously, her looks were deceptive. After all, she’d led him on a merry chase for the last two months.
“What do you want?” she asked impatiently, her eyes flashing dark fire.
Kade closed the door. You! I want you underneath me, on top of me, or any other way you want it. Aloud, he answered, “My name is Kade Harrison. I’ve been looking for you. Didn’t you get my messages?”
Ignoring his question, she answered, “You stole my things. You’re a thief.” Her tone was hostile, but her expression still showed her apprehension.
“I’m not a thief. I was desperate and trying to get you to talk to me. And I wouldn’t have left my contact information if I was trying to rip you off,” Kade answered defensively. Honestly, he was still desperate, only now it was a whole different kind of desperation. His libido, which had been running low while he was recovering from his accident, had finally awakened with a vengeance and taken complete control of his body.
She went and picked up her tattered cloth bag, hefting it over her shoulder after checking the contents. She stopped right in front of him, her deep brown eyes angry, but also showing a hint of vulnerability and fear. “Just tell me why you’ve been following me. Are you some kind of crazy stalker?”
Kade felt his anger rise up at the thought of anyone causing this woman distress, and some personal annoyance that Asha obviously thought he was some kind of psycho. “No. Is someone stalking you?”
Their eyes locked, and she searched his face, as though she were looking for the truth. “I don’t know,” she answered honestly. “But I know someone has been following me. I’m assuming it’s been you. And yeah, I got some messages that didn’t make any sense to me. Did you really expect me to answer you? I don’t even know you. What do you want from me?”
It was a loaded question that he could have answered in many different ways because of the unusual response his body was having to her presence, but none of them were quite appropriate at the moment. More than likely, any one of the answers that came immediately to mind would have her running away screaming. Kade dug into his pocket and pulled out his wallet, chagrined that he’d frightened her by following her. She’d been running away from fear, a woman alone who didn’t like an unknown guy following her. It had never occurred to him that she might be scared of him, and for some reason, he didn’t like that thought. Holding up a picture of Maddie and Max, he said, “It was me. I’m doing a favor for friends. We think there’s a possibility that you could be related to my brother-in-law and his sister. I’ve been trying to track you down for almost two months. I’m not trying to hurt you. I just wanted to talk to you.”
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 you are related?”
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 throug
h 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, and this was 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, we are going,” 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.
What the hell am I doing here?
Crawling to the edge of the massive bed, she started to cough as she swung her feet over the edge, making her grasp her sore ribs as she continued hacking and barking. “Damn it!” she choked between coughs. Bending at the waist, she held her side, wincing from the soreness of her ribs and abdomen, the muscles strained from coughing.
I can’t afford to be sick right now. Survive! Survive! Survive!
“What the hell are you doing?” Kade’s angry voice sounded from across the room.
He brought her a glass of water and some pills. She swallowed them compliantly, not even asking what they were. She felt too horrible to care, and he’d already had the chance to kill her if he was some sort of crazed lunatic. If the pills would make her feel better, she’d swallow anything he gave her.
“You can’t get up yet,” Kade told her in the voice of a dictator, taking the empty glass from her hand. “You have pneumonia.”
“I need to use the bathroom,” she told him, embarrassed, but the need to pee was so urgent that she couldn’t wait.
Kade didn’t say a word. He scooped up her body remarkably gently for a guy who had a body built like a Mack truck, and took her to the bathroom, plopped her on the toilet seat, folded his arms and lifted a brow. “Go.”
Asha looked up at him. “Seriously? You expect me to go with you standing right here?” No way was that happening. She was dressed in her threadbare nightgown with no panties, clothing she must have donned after their visit to the hospital, but she didn’t remember doing it. The memories of the emergency room were slowly coming back to her, but everything was pretty hazy. “I can’t pee with you watching me.” Having this conversation, this experience with a man she barely knew was mortifying, but she was in a desperate situation where she had little choice but to be blunt. Her bladder was ready to explode, and she was trying desperately not to cough.
Kade grinned and turned his back. “Okay. Now go. I shared a locker room with plenty of guys. It was close quarters and I’ve heard plenty of men take a piss. I’m sure it sounds pretty much the same with a female.”
“I’m not one of the guys. Leave,” she insisted, grinding her teeth with the need to relieve her herself.
“Not happening. You’re too weak and you’re likely to fall. You’re sick, Asha. And I just gave you something for your cough and the pain that will probably just make you loopier. I’m not leaving.”
To tell the truth, she was weak, dizzy, and miserable. Still, how could a woman use the bathroom with a man she didn’t know standing right in front of her? Finally, the needs of her body won out and she quickly did her business, and rose, needing to grab onto the waistband of Kade’s jeans to keep herself upright.
He had her in his arms quicker than she could blink, cradling her against his muscular chest, strong arms enveloping her, making her feel safer than she’d felt…well…ever. How could she feel so vulnerable and yet so safe at the same time?
“Wait. I need to wash my hands,” she told him weakly.
“You have to worry about good hygiene now?” Kade rolled his eyes, but he stopped patiently at the sink, testing the water temperature before he let her put her hands under the faucet. He dried her hands like she was a child and proceeded back to the bedroom at a fast stride for a man who limped.
After he’d tucked her back into bed, she asked softly, “What time is it?”
Kade sat on the edge of the bed, answering, “You came here yesterday afternoon. It’s now…” He glanced at his watch. “Eight o’clock in the evening. You slept all last night and all day.”
“Oh, no! I had a job today. I have to make a call.” She really needed the money from the job, an
d she had to call and reschedule. Losing the income was not an option, and her fear and survival instincts were beating at her. For so many years, one word had pounded through her brain unceasingly: Survive. Survive. Survive. “I needed that job, and now I have to pay for the hospital visit and the medicine.”
“What kind of job?” Kade asked curiously. “The hospital has already been paid and I have all the medication you need. You don’t owe anything.”
“Then I need to pay you,” she told him adamantly. Her purse was at the bedside, and she stretched for it, grabbing it up and rifling through the contents. “I paint walls,” she answered distractedly, still looking for the piece of paper with the client’s number.
“What kind of walls?”
Triumphant, she pulled out the paper with the number, snatching some photos from the side pocket of her bag with her other hand. “Any wall that a person wants painted.” She handed him the photos. “I’ll pay you as much as I can before I go and I’ll have to send you the rest. I’m sorry. That’s my only option.” There was nothing else she could do since she didn’t have the money to pay him back completely. “Can I use your phone?” Her cell had quit working a few weeks ago, and finding a pay phone in a world where everyone had a cell phone was nearly impossible. She’d had to scramble to find a way to connect with jobs. She used the Internet in the public libraries to check her website and corresponded by email. But calling clients was rarely possible since she’d lost her phone. It might have been a cheap prepaid, but it was her connection to jobs, and the loss was making her scramble even harder to communicate with people who wanted her services.
“Incredible,” Kade said as he flipped through the photos. “You do art on walls?”
Asha shrugged. “I can do designs on anything, but I mostly do walls.”
“So you travel around the country, painting walls? How do people find you?”
“I have a website. Designs by Asha. They usually contact me from there. I get a lot of repeat clients and referrals.”