Commitment

Part 72

A few minutes later he realised she had indeed fallen asleep. He waited a few more minutes. No spasms. But she still looked wan. Her colour was off.

He flicked a look at his watch. He should have been back at his place by now. He'd told his grandfather he was driving over here, in time for milking as that was the only time he could guarantee she'd be home.

Then making up his mind he walked out of the room. He reached for his mobile and phoned his grandfather, then phoned the farm and made a few arrangements to cover his absence, shuffled his meetings and reassigned his jobs for today. He peeked into her bedroom, at least she was still asleep. He would check on the milking shed, see if she had the energy to clean the stalls after milking. He headed out to do that.

Two hours later he returned to the house, and much to his annoyance found her in the kitchen. "What the hell are you doing out of bed?" He marched over to her, picked her up and without another word carried her back to her room.

"Do you mind?" She growled weakly at him. She figured if she had a slice of toast it might make this retching more manageable. Give her stomach something to deal with, might help her.

"As a matter of fact I do." He shouldered his way into the bedroom and once again placed her on the bed. "If you want something, ask me. I'll get it. Have you had anything to drink?" He looked over at the jug and was pleased to see that she had indeed had some water.

While they had various arguments when he lived here, this particular argument was different. The power balance had shifted. He was the one giving the orders and she didn't have the energy to challenge him. In any case, in the past, in any argument, or discussion she was always calm and cool, she always smiled, albeit just a token. Here, she was cranky, growling at practically everything and so sign of that smile.

Belligerent she growled, "You aren't my keeper." She muttered against his chest. "You aren't responsible for me." She told him tiredly and wished she sounded more strident. But she was exhausted. She didn't say a word as he placed her on the bed and then draped the duvet around her. He literally tucked her in, ensuring she could not moved!

He kept his hands on either side of her shoulders as he drew the duvet to her shoulders. "Maybe not." He glared. "But I am going to make sure that you aren't underplaying this stomach ache." He remained perched on her bed, his eyes tracked her eyes. He dragged a hand through his hair, ruffling it into casual disarray "Should I get a doctor out here, right now?" He asked her. He knew the doctor was going to fit her into his home visit schedule for today, and the doctor said it might be around lunch.

"No." She thought she just needed a bit of a rest. But she was too tired to fight or challenge him. Actually, she was beyond exhaustion. She allowed each spasm of pain to gorge its way through her slender frame.

"Ok. So, what's really the matter with you?" He remained on her bed. He watched her with a fair degree of frustration.

She sent him a speaking look. "I told you, I have a stomach ache." Her heart hammered and overtook the pain in her guts. She knew it wasn't anger causing the adrenalin rush now that he was close. Too close. She attempted to shift. He raised a questioning eyebrow. She held her tongue.

His eyes locked on hers and nearly swore. "And that's all it is?" He questioned, and his tone reflected the fact he was incredulous about that statement. He said tersely as he noticed her reaction and once again recalled her pigheadedness. "A stomach ache with a fever!"

Regan braced, deciding it was better for her to take the offensive here. "With all due respect, my health is my business, not yours!" Just a shame that her eyes gave her thoughts away.