The Doctor's Secret Bride (1) (33 page)

“Garret, I wish you’d never come here, today of all days.  I wish you’d never told me who killed Cassie.”

Garret tilted his head to one side.  “I don’t understand.”

“I’m in love with her.  I married her!”  He pounded his fist on the desk.

“Oh boy, I didn’t know.”

The last think Erik needed was the pity he heard in the detective’s voice.  He turned his back to him, trying desperately to hold back his rage.  “Thanks for stopping by,” he said as calmly as he could.  “And please, leave his children alone.  I know them, and I know they would never be mixed up in anything so horrible.  If they’d know, they would have turned him in.”

He couldn’t even thank the man for cracking the two-year old case.  This day that should have brought him joy beyond compare had brought him more turmoil than he’d had before.

“I’m sorry,” Garret said again.  “I’ll keep you posted with the details.”

When the door closed, Erik cleared his desk with one swipe of his hand.

“No!  No!  No!”  Harsh sobs tore from his throat as he fell to his knees.  Misery, far worse than the night Cassie died in his arms, tore away at his guts.

How could he have been so blind, so stupid, so trusting?  How could he have entrusted his happiness and that of his child’s—Cassie’s child—to the very woman whose father had caused them so much grief?

Ice spread through Erik’s stomach.  Michelle had told him that her father was dead, then she told him she’d lied, and that she didn’t know where he was.  Was she slowly reeling him in, giving him a little bit here and there until she had him in her clutches?  She knew it was a possibility her drunken father could have killed Cassie.  That’s why she never gave him the entire truth.  When was she going to tell him?  After the birth of their first child when it was too late to end their relationship?

His body trembled as nauseating despair buried itself in his chest.  All the times she said she loved him, all the sweet words she’d poured like hot honey into his ears, now made him sick.  He had believed her, trusted her with his love and his child.

That was the ultimate deception.

He closed his eyes as the harsh realities twisted inside him like a sharp knife.  He’d given himself to her—heart, body, and soul.  The passionate intimate memories that only minutes ago had brought him such joy, now tasted like bitter gall in his mouth.  He’d loved her, enjoyed her much more than Cassie.

As night descended upon the town of Manchester, as the stars popped out, one by one, shining brilliantly across the dark canopy of open sky, Erik wept as the blackness that had cloaked his soul for two years returned, hardening his heart toward love and trust and forever.  The swell of pain was so powerful, the anguish so acute, he could do nothing but surrender to the sorrow that shattered his soul, his hopes, his dreams.

***

Where could Erik be? Michelle wondered for the millionth time as she paced back and forth in the family room.  This morning he’d told her he had something special planned for them tonight, and had even booked a room at a hotel in town.  It had been three days since Cape Cod, three days since they made love.  She’d been so filled with anxiety that she was barely able to get through the day.  She’d dropped Precious off at Felicia’s then hurried back home to pack and get ready for Erik.

It was during that time that her brother had called to let her know that he’d discovered something about their father—something that puzzled him.  He’d promised to tell her all about it tomorrow night when he came for dinner.

After hanging up the phone, Michelle had decided that she wasn’t going to wait.  She was going to tell Erik everything about her father tonight, and had called to tell him that they needed to talk before leaving for the hotel.  She could not let him publicize their marriage with that hanging over her head.  She needed to be absolutely honest with him.

He should have been home five hours ago.  It was almost midnight, now.

She’d called him several times but he never picked up.  Filled with worry, she’d called Felicia a short while ago to see if she’d heard from him.  She had, but he’d told her not to speak to Michelle.

At that point, Michelle knew for certain that something had gone dreadfully wrong.  Erik would not ignore her for nothing, not after everything they’d shared.  The only thing Michelle could think of was that he’d learned the truth about her father.  That was the only secret she was hiding from him, the only bit of information that could destroy her.

She was scared, so scared of losing the best thing that ever happened to her.  Erik was her life, the air she breathed.  She loved him with everything in her that was sweet and good, and wholesome.  Never in a million years did she imagine she would find a man who could love her so deeply and passionately.  One who cherished and adored her.  She was the happiest she’d ever been in her entire life.  It was only natural to be scared of losing her husband and Precious, a child she loved as her own.

Sheer fright swept through her as a million possibilities flooded her mind.  What if her father was back and found out she was working for Erik?  What if he’d shown up at the hospital drunk, and demanded money to stave off embarrassment?  He’d tried the same thing with Robert, years ago.  Robert had threatened to beat him up if he set foot at his practice, or at his home again.  Erik was a different story.  He was not accustomed to dealing with men like Dwight Carter.  And she had brought this filth into his world, his life.

Michelle collapsed onto the sofa and wrapped her arms about her belly.  She should have known it was too good to be true, too good to last.  She’d forgotten who she was, where she’d come from in the space of four short months.  She was a girl from the inner city, a nanny who’d secretly married the father of her charge, and who was stupid enough to fall in love with him.

The fact that he’d married her and told her he loved her brought her no solace.  He was in love with a woman he didn’t really know, a woman who’d lied to him.  She’d seen the hurt and betrayal in his eyes, heard it in his voice that night in Cape Cod when he told her what Cassie had done.  That’s when she should have spoken up.  God, she wanted to, but he was all talked out.  He just wanted to make love.  She should have been stronger.  She should have insisted he hear her out.

As a feeling of utter defeat descended on her, Michelle got up and slowly walked up the stairs.  When she got to her bedroom, she unzipped the dress she would have worn to dinner tonight and let it fall to the floor.  She slipped on a nightshirt, crept into her bed and cried, for deep down in her gut, she knew it was over.  She’d ruined Erik.  There was no way he would trust another woman again.  Not after Cassie.

And definitely not after her.

***

“Wake up, Michelle.”

Michelle jumped awake at the rumbling voice.  Her eyes popped wide open and her body went numb when she encountered the cold contempt in Erik’s eyes.

He’d switched on the bedside lamp and was sitting on the side of her bed, glaring at her.  Tension distorted his face.  She’d never seen him like this, and it scared her that a man who she knew to be the gentlest creature on earth could be filled with so much rage.

“Erik—”

‘Hush!  Don’t say a word!”  He placed a finger against her lips.  “You knew.  You knew all along.  You took me for a good ride, Mrs. Michelle Carter LaCrosse.  Did you think I was so stupid I would never find out?  Or did you think you were so good in bed that I wouldn’t be able to resist you even when the truth came out?”

His hand crawled sedately down her chest and over the thin material of her nightshirt, but his eyes remained cold and deadly.  He squeezed a breast, pinching the nipple until it hardened.  With deliberate leisure, his hand trailed slowly down her body.  He made a fist and pressed it into her stomach.

“Erik—”

“I said not to talk, Michelle.  You had three months to tell me everything.  You are going to listen now.  I am Cassie’s husband,” he said with deadly calm.  “Precious is Cassie’s daughter, and this is Cassie’s house.  You thought you could just waltz in here and claim it all?”

She read the sparks of ruthlessness in his eyes.  This was definitely about more than her withholding information about her drunken father.  “What did I do, Erik?  Why are you looking at me with such disgust?”

“You knew where he was all this time, didn’t you?”

“Who, Erik?  Who?”

“Your father, Michelle.  You knew where he was.”

Michelle’s mind whirled in a crazy mixture of confusion.  “No.  I don’t know where my father is.”

“Don’t lie to me, Michelle!  I’ve had it with deceitful women.  I can’t take anymore lies.”

Trembling, Michelle tried to push his hand off her stomach and ease away from him.  She was too vulnerable lying on her back in the middle of a bed with an angry man bending over her.  She couldn’t fight in that position.

Reading the intentions in her eyes, Erik grabbed her shoulders and pushed her back into the mattress.  He fought the need in his body, the pain in his heart, the burning in his soul.  He’d just spent the last two hours sitting on his wife’s grave, begging her to forgive him for bringing the daughter of the man who’d killed her into her home, into their child’s life, and most treacherously for loving her and for marrying her.

As he gazed at that woman now, all he wanted to do was make love to her.  He wanted to bury his sorrow inside her, because as much as he despised her lies, his love for her was a thousand times stronger.

“You told me your father was dead,” he said.  “Then you told me you lied about that.  You didn’t give me the full story, Michelle.  You withheld vital information.”

The words stabbed at Michelle’s heart.  So he’d found out?  How?  And why did it make him this bitter?  “No,” Michelle blurted out.  “I didn’t give you the whole story because I was ashamed of him.  He’s a drunk.  He’s always been a drunk.  And when I found out that it was a drunk who killed Cas—”

“Do not speak my wife’s name, Michelle.  You’ve lost that privilege.”

“I’m your wife, Erik.”

He uttered a contemptuous laugh.  “Do not remind me of that.  Is there anything else you’d like to tell me, Michelle?”

“No.”  Tears pooled in her eyes.  She’d hurt him.  She swallowed the bile that rose to the back of her throat.  “I’m sorry.”  She placed a hand on his arm.  “I was going to tell you the whole story tonight.  I swear, Erik.  I was going to tell you that my father is a drunk.  That’s what I wanted to talk about before we left for the hotel.”

Erik wanted to believe her.  He really did.  Maybe Detective Garret had made a mistake.  Maybe there was another drunk named Dwight Carter who just happened to have two children with the same names.  It was a small world.  Anything was possible.  Damn, look at the situation he’d found himself in.  Like Garret had said, it was a one in a million chance.

He glanced down at Michelle’s slender hand on his arm and the heat they generated sent a surge of lust through him.  His gaze shifted to her face, drenched with tears.  He stared at her trembling lip.  Lips that were sweeter than honey.  Lips that aroused him at just the mere thought of them.  He splayed his hand down her body, sliding it over the cotton material of her nightshirt.

He skimmed over the mound at the apex of her thighs where he’d come to know Nirvana again and again.  He dragged his hand down her smooth thighs, then with unsteady fingers he caught the hem of her shirt and dragged it up along her body.  He jerked it over her head in one fluid motion then discarded her sexy little red panties just as easily.

His eyes flinched as he gazed at her loveliness.  How in God’s name was he going to survive without her?  He loved her.  He needed her.  Her pull on him was stronger than his loyalty to Cassie, stronger than the fight in his body.

CHAPTER TWENTY

Michelle saw the raw need in Erik’s eyes, felt it in his touch.  He was hurting and he wanted her to make it stop.  She’d had hungry sex, grief sex, regret sex, and worship sex with him.  It was time for them to have angry sex.

Desire licked through her body as she watched Erik rise from the bed and unzipped his trousers, pushing them along with his boxers down to his knees.  Her eyes immediately settled on his thick shaft, rising menacingly from the dark curls at his groin.

Her heart began to pound against her chest and the familiar moistness settled between her thighs.  She’d been subjected time and time again to his strength, his power, and the unrelenting passion with which he loved.  And she should be afraid.  But she wasn’t.  She wanted him.   She wanted him with every little neuron in her body.  She was his wife and wives were supposed to ease their husbands’ pain.  She would ease his pain.  She would make right whatever wrong he thought she had done him.

“Erik what did I do to cause you such pain, to make you so angry?” she asked.

He grabbed her by the ankles and pulled her toward him, positioning her buttocks on the edge of the mattress and throwing her legs over his shoulders.  “You knew it was possible and yet you said nothing.”

“What are you talking about?”  Frustration inched through her.

He leaned into her, swung his hips and pierced her, forcefully pushing his way completely to the hilt.  Michelle cried out as her slick flesh parted to receive him.  She clutched at his shirt, her fingers digging into the flexed muscles of his arms as he filled her.

Dropping his body on hers, Erik pinning her to the mattress and began to move with earnest strokes inside her.  He curled his fingers through her hair and held her soft mouth prisoner with his own as he pumped fiercely into her.  Their grunts of lust filled the air.  Their tears melded into a river of hopelessness.

Fire coursed through his veins at the velvety moistness of her clutching at him like a bloodthirsty parasite, sucking the very life out of him, pulling him toward the end of the universe.  She wasn’t supposed to feel this good.  She wasn’t supposed to be this delicious, this irresistible.  His body had betrayed him, just as she had.