Consequences

Part 65

Doug straightened up as the door opened. He removed his hands from his pockets and braced for what was bound to be a difficult conversation.

There were no pleasantries shared. Isabelle knew who was at the door as she'd checked before she'd opened it. Deciding that it was best to deal with the situation head on she had opened the door to face him.

"It's someone's idea of a practical joke." He was told bluntly. "None of my family are involved. I don't care what you do about it." Then without even making eye contact with him, Isabelle made to close the door. But Doug stopped her by simply putting a hand to the door.

His anxiety over this first reconnection faded when he took stock of the woman in front of him. She looked like she'd been crying, her eyes were watering, her nose was red and she looked pale. Had the recent engagement notice upset her to this extent? That wasn't the woman he remembered. She'd been unfazed the last time. Certainly not reduced to tears.

He frowned as he studied her. Couldn't be the engagement notice he finally decided. It was after midday and Isabelle was still in her dressing gown. The robe swamped her, because the weight she'd lost had never been put back on. She hadn't combed her hair. It was the first time Doug had ever seen her disheveled. Somehow it made her look more approachable. Not that a closing door endorsed that impression.

"Wait." Doug said firmly.

Isabelle leaned against the door. It was the only way she could remain on her feet right now. Her head was spinning, her body was aching and now her heart was pining. "Go away." She told him as she once again began to close the door.

Doug's brow furrowed at her blunt statement. She didn't do rudeness. But what really had him puzzled was her body language. The simple act of closing the door seemed to require a lot of effort. Isabelle swayed and if Doug hadn't reacted and stepped in quickly she would have slid to the floor. Instead Doug had her in his arms in seconds. He scooped her up. Which was no big deal given how little she weighed. With an arm around her back and another beneath her knees Doug held her close. He scowled. Up close he realised that she was shivering and her skin felt cold and clammy.

"You're ill." Doug stated with a worried frown as he stepped into the hallway, and using his heel he kicked the front door shut. She was a lightweight in his arms. And this close he could see that she was definitely ill.

Isabelle despite her best intentions snuggled closer. His body heat acted like a magnet. "It's a cold." She told him trying not to sniffle and reminding herself to put some distance between them. Which was tough given she felt so listless and he felt so warm and strong and just being in his arms was a relief.

"Some cold." He murmured against her temple.

"Go away." She felt terrible. Her head ached. Her nose was red and sore from the steady use of a string of tissues, and she felt cold and clammy. She knew she looked a mess.

Doug walked toward the study he'd been shown into the last time he was here. "Have you seen a doctor?" Up this close he could see the sheen of perspiration on her brow, and yet he could also feel her trembling.

"I don't need a doctor. It's a cold." Isabelle protested, but even that little exertion exhausted her. She couldn't help the fact her head just wanted to rest on his shoulder. Just for a minute. Or a year. Or decades come to that.

Doug ignored her response. Gently he laid her on the couch then placed the back of his hand against her forehead and frowned. "It's more than a cold."

Isabelle closed her eyes and took several breaths before opening them again.

"I'm fine." She muttered, knowing that her protests were just going to be ignored. She felt weak, which made arguing with him that much more challenging.

"Yeah, right." Doug looked around the room wondering where they kept the details to their medical centre.

"Go away." Isabelle told him, summoning up some disdain. It was a waste of time for she ended up sneezing which ruined the whole disdain haughtiness.

Doug studied her. She looked a mess. Her hair was in total disarray. Her face was washed out, no colour whatsoever bar the red. Her eyes were red. Her nose was red.

"How long have you been like this?" She looked awful, but he knew that to tell her that would do him no favours.

"None of your business." Isabelle muttered.

"As your fiance I disagree."

Isabelle groaned. It was going to be the start of another nightmare. She'd barely survived the last one that involved an association with him. All she wanted to do was crawl into her bed and go to sleep. A few days of sleep and she'd be fine.

"When was the last time you ate?" He pushed. Where was her housekeeper, Cara, he remembered the name. Where was Cara?

"I'm fine."

"That isn't what I asked." Doug remonstrated. Taking charge of a situation was the norm for Doug, so he felt as if he was in his element.

"I don't care what you asked." That tired her out. So she sank against the cushions, closed her eyes and took a few more breaths. Shallow breaths. Still she felt weak.

Doug quirked a brow. He knew that Rafe and Marina were in Christchurch and that her grandmother was in Australia. His grandmother had told him that yesterday. "Where is Cara?" Someone needed to be looking after Isabelle.

"None of your business."

Given her responses it was obvious that she was on her own. That wouldn't do. She was in no condition to be left alone. "You're coming home with me." That had her opening her eyes in an instant.