The Stolen Wife.

Chapter Eight.

The phone ringing on her bedside table woke Elizabeth from a deep, dreamless sleep. She grabbed it and flipped it open, not bothering to sit up in the darkness of her bedroom.

"Hello?"

"Where are you?" Rhys demanded.

"I'm at home, in bed."

She rolled over to glance at the clock next to her bed wincing at the red light.

"It's three in the morning," She said.

"I know what the hell time it is, get up." He ordered.

"What?"

"Get up and get your ass downstairs."

She sat up rubbing her eyes and stifling a yawn, he was out of his mind calling at this hour and she had no idea why he was so upset suddenly.

"What's going on?"

"Get down here and open this door before I kick it in."

The threat in his voice was enough to propel her from the bed, tossing back the blankets and grabbing her robe on the way to the door, she hurried down the stairs to the back door. She punched in the code for the alarm turned the lock and jerked the door open.

Immediately Rhys and four other large men hustled into her home, invading the space. He turned and shut the door locking it and re-setting her alarm in a smooth motion.

"What's going on?" She asked glancing around.

One of the four men suddenly collapsed and two others grabbed him, carrying him into her dining room, the third man ripped off the tablecloth sending everything on it to the floor as they laid the fourth man down.

"You've been holding out on me," Rhys said.

"What?" She pulled her robe closer around herself feeling naked.

"You applied for medical school before you got pregnant."

"Yeah?"

He grabbed her arm pulling her to the man on the table and pointing at him with his gun.

"He's been shot, fix him."

"I applied for medical school! That doesn't mean I can save a mans life," She said quickly.

"You saved mine, I can't take him to a hospital and I can't reach our normal doctor you are all I have."

"I can't," She insisted.

He pulled his gun from the back of his pants and slammed it down on the table, obviously hinting he would shoot her.

"Try," He said in a deep voice.

She glanced at the now unconscious man and the other three who were leaning against the kitchen island. Directly after high school, she had applied to medical school but she hadn't gone even one day.

"I need some things," She said approaching the man.

"Name them," Rhys said quickly.

"Uhm...towels, gauze, tape, tweezers or forceps, thread, a needle,...something to clean the wound with."

"Maybe a change of clothes?" He said from directly behind her.

A shiver ran down his spine when his warm breath ghosted across her bare neck and ear, reminding her of her state of dress. A thin satin robe that fell to her ankles covered a knee-length satin nightgown of the same peach color.

She turned on her heel and hurried from the room to the steps, vaguely aware of one of the men whistling at her and a few low catcalls followed Rhys scolding them.