The Doctor's Secret Bride (1) (5 page)

Shaking off the bewitching invitation, Erik pushed back his chair and smiled at his daughter.  “Hey, little one.  Daddy has a surprise for you,” he said, deliberately interrupting their conversation about forever after.  As far as he was concerned, fairytale endings were just that... fairytales that belonged in children’s books.

Precious jumped out of her chair and ran to him.  “A surprise for me?  What is it, Daddy?”

Erik closed his eyes as he hugged his little girl.  God, he loved her so much.  She was all he had left of Cassie, and he cherished her with everything good in himself.   He pried Precious’ arms from around his neck and peered into her eyes—Cassie’s eyes.  He planted a quick kiss on her forehead.  “Go wash up and meet me back here,” he said, placing her on the floor.

She raced out of the room without so much as a backward glance, her long ponytails bouncing behind her like thick cords of rope.

Erik turned his attention to Michelle who’d left her chair and was now gazing out the bay window overlooking a rose garden.  Habitually, his eyes swept the length of her.  She had a good posture, he thought, and would carry a fetus well, but her narrow pelvis would make childbirth difficult, the astute physician in him noted with concern.

Since the moment he’d laid eyes on her, Erik could not stop thinking about Michelle’s body, and how it would look naked, especially her full perky breasts and the shape and color of her nipples.  He wondered about the haven of delight between her thighs.  What were her waxing preferences?  American, French, or Brazilian?  He knew what he liked.  Would Michelle deliver or disappoint him?  As his eyes took in the gentle curve of her long graceful neck, he wondered how her silky skin would feel against his lips.   He could easily kiss her nape without having to trek through a thick mass of hair as he used to do with Cassie. 
Cassie
.

At the thought of his wife, Erik took a deep breath and forced the pleasing yet dangerous musings about his daughter’s nanny out of his head.  He took a moment to collect his thoughts then walked to the window to stand beside Michelle.

“They are beautiful,” he said, gazing at the array of red, yellow, white, and pink roses, all in full bloom.  Cassie had put her sweat into that garden and after she died, he’d employed a gardener to tend the thorny bushes.  They added a magnificent view from the dining table.  He remembered the numerous compliments the spectacular scenery had generated from their guests over the years.

“You don’t look like the rosebush kind.”

Michelle’s voice interrupted his stroll down memory lane.  She somehow had the uncanny ability to continually bring him back from his past.  He chuckled softly.  “They were Cassie’s, my late wife’s.  She loved roses, especially the red ones, like her flaming hair.  Red was her favorite color.  You might have noticed that from the painting in my study.”

“How did she die?  Was she sick?”

Erik tensed with dread and perplexity.  Did she really not know?  The news of Cassie’s death and the ongoing investigation to find her killer had made the headlines for months.  He’d never met anyone who didn’t associate the name LaCrosse with that tragedy.  Well, not until now.

He didn’t want to talk about it, but since Michelle was now an uninformed member of his household, the question would always be hanging over their heads.  “She was killed by a drunk driver,” he said, wishing to put it to rest.

“I hope they caught the bastard.”

“Unfortunately, not yet.”  Erik frowned at her use of the word ‘bastard’ and the disdain with which she said it.

“How could they not have found him yet?” she asked as if she had a personal stake in his loss.  “Drunks aren’t that hard to find.”  She crossed her arms and stared straight ahead.

Feeling the tension building around them, Erik ran his fingers through his hair.  He seldom talked about that night.  And he definitely never spoke about it with a stranger.  But something about Michelle Carter made him want to open up his heart to her, tell her the whole truth.  Maybe it’s because of the way she’d handled Precious earlier today.  She seemed to have a gift to make people who were hurting feel better.

“It was a stolen car that was later abandoned.  We knew it was a drunk because it was littered with empty liquor bottles.  Cassie’s blood, and fabric from her dress was wedged into the front bumper.”  He balled his fists at his sides.  “
He
walked away without even a scratch while my wife bled to death in front of me.”

“You were there?  You saw it happen?”

How much should he tell this woman who was gently coaxing the most horrifying, most painful experience of his life out of him?  Erik wondered.

“We’d gone to a birthday party at a friend’s house in Manchester.”  He spoke slowly and cautiously.  “On the way home, we got into an argument.  It was late and Cassie begged me to wait until the morning and she would explain everything to me.  She was like that, you know.  She hated confrontations.  If a fight began brewing between us, she would walk away to cool off and when she returned, we would resolve our difference more calmly.”

He closed his eyes for an instant.  “But that night, I wasn’t having it.  I wanted answers right then and there.  So she insisted that I stop the car.  We were passing a park, so I pulled over, thinking it would be a safe place for her to cool off for a few minutes.  But just as she opened the door and stepped out, a car came whipping by.”

“Didn’t you see it coming?”

“It was dark.  The driver didn’t have his lights on.  It happened so fast.”  Erik pressed his hands against his temples.  His head was throbbing.  At least, she was sensitive enough not to ask what they’d been arguing about.  The only other person who knew about that argument was his ex-best friend, Clayton Monroe.  Nobody else.  Not even his mother.  As hurt and angry as he’d been at the time, he didn’t want people speculating about his wife and what she may or may not have done.  Most importantly, he didn’t want anything to tarnish his daughter’s image of her mother.

The authorities had questioned his action in stopping on the wrong side of the road and allowing his wife to exit into the street instead of the sidewalk.  He’d been under suspicion for allegedly pushing his wife out of the car into oncoming traffic.  But having no evidence that he wanted his wife dead, he’d been cleared.

He was an idiot, not a monster.

“I’ve never told anyone about that argument,” he said, wondering if he’d made a mistake in telling Michelle so much.  He didn’t even know her, and yet he’d poured out the darkest secret of his soul to her.

Michelle gazed up at him with moist eyes filled with warmth, the kind of homespun warmth he longed to have wrapped around him.

“I won’t repeat it to anyone,” she said.   “I’m sorry, Erik.  I’m sorry you and your little girl had to go through such a terrible experience.”

The sincerity in her voice seeped through his skin, into his blood.   “You’re remarkable,” he said huskily. “Almost too good to be true.”

His heart jolted when she unexpectedly took his hand and laced her fingers through his.  Her touch was like quicksand, pulling him into a chasm of pure desire.  He felt an avid quickening of his heartbeat as a violent passion pulsed through his veins, bringing his dormant body to life.

The moment she touched him, a hot flash swept through Michelle, and her heart began to hammer against her chest.  It was as if she’d been struck by lightning.  Instantly realizing it was a mistake to touch him, she dropped his hand.  “I’m sorry.  I didn't mean to do that.”  She cast her eyes downward to hide the boisterous storm raging inside her.

“Don’t be.  You acted on impulse.”  Erik put his hands under her chin and raised her face to his.  He wiped his thumb across the softness of her cheek, capturing a tear that had escaped from her captivating eyes.  He rubbed the warm moisture between his fingers, relishing the feel of it against his skin.

Her lips parted slightly, and involuntarily, her pink tongue darted out to wet her dry lips.  Erik groaned.  Her compelling eyes spoke to him, offering him the intimate female delights he’d been deprived of for so long.  His head started a lazy descent, and as he got closer, his predatory male senses were stimulated by the sensual fragrance exuding from her skin.

“What’s that scent you’re wearing?” he whispered.

“
Moonlight
.  You like it?”

“Yes.  I like it.  I like it a lot.”

Michelle closed her eyes as her heart jackknifed in her throat.  She whimpered when his smooth, warm lips touched hers, and the heady scent of his masculinity attacked her.  There was no spicy aftershave, no musky cologne, just his potent manliness.  Her limbs turned to jelly when he pulled her to him and completely covered her mouth and swept his tongue inside, ravishing her hungrily.  She clutched his shoulders and opened wider, giving him absolute permission to enjoy her.

Sweat beaded Erik's forehead as his body heat reached a record high.  His breath came in gasps as he stroked his hands down her narrow body.  He pulled her closer, fitting his erection against the soft cradle of her feminine heat.  He rocked against her gently as their tongues danced intimately around each other.

Michelle made a mewling sound, deep in her throat, like that from a cat being stroked by its master’s hand.  She wrapped her arms around Erik’s neck and pressed herself into the hard curve of his body.  She’d had boyfriends before, yet she had no idea that being in a man’s arms could feel so gloriously wonderful.  Somewhere in the dazed recess of her brain, she heard thunder rumble.

“I’m ready, Daddy!”

They jumped apart as Precious’ voice yanked them back to reality.

Michelle gasped and swallowed hard, forcing her heart back inside her chest.  The rumbling she’d heard wasn’t thunder, but Precious’ footsteps clambering down the stairs.  She turned toward the window and managed to straighten her dress just as Precious bolted into the room.  She wondered how Erik was doing.  She couldn’t even look at him.

“You look beautiful, Precious,” Erik said to his daughter, desperately needing any sound to break the steamy silence in the room.  His voice shook so hard, he was afraid she would realize that something was wrong.  She was too intuitive for her own good, and his.  He dropped to the floor on one knee, placing his arms across his thighs in an effort to hide his arousal.

Precious had changed into a floral printed dress, but the two strips of cotton that would later become a bow in the back, hung down at her sides.  She wore pink suede sandals, no socks.

“Daddy, your eyes are all red.  Is something wrong?  Were you crying?”

“No darling.  Daddy’s just excited about our date tonight.”

Satisfied, she ran over to the window.  “Can you please tie my bow, Michelle?”

Michelle took a deep breath before turning around.  Her fingers trembled as she pushed the long braids aside and tried to make a perfect bow from the two strips of cotton.  “There,” she said, spinning Precious around.  “Your daddy is right.  You’re as beautiful as a princess.”

She gave her a bright smile.  “Are you coming with us?”

“No.  Not tonight.  This is a father and daughter night out.  I’ll come next time.  Okay?”

“Okay. Come on, Daddy, let’s go.”

Somewhat recovered, Erik stood up.  “Go wait for me in the Mercedes.”

“Bye, Michelle,” Precious called as she ran out of the room.

“I'm sorry,” they said in unison, then looked away from each other.

“Look,” Erik said, “I was wrong to come on to you like that.  I wouldn't blame you if you walked out the door right now.  I hope you don’t think I expect you to… well, I promise, it will not happen again.”

“It was nothing.”  Michelle’s lips trembled as she brought her gaze back to his.  The passion still burned affluently within his eyes, as she was sure it did in hers.

“On the contrary, it was something.”  He watched her for a long, hard minute then said in a composed voice, “I should be home around ten.  I’m taking Precious to see a production of
The Wind in the Willows
.  I’ve had these tickets for a week, but lately, every time I suggested we do something together, she turned me down.  Thanks to you, that has changed.”  He paused.  “You sure you don't want to come along?  I could get another ticket at the door.”

“No,” Michelle replied, thinking about what Precious had told her that afternoon about the day her mother died.  She needed her father’s undivided attention more than anything else right now.

“I have to clean up since Mrs. Hayes has left for the day.  I also have to finish unpacking and make some phone calls.  I need to let my brother know where I am before he puts out an Amber alert on me.”

“Oh, yes, Mrs. Hayes mentioned you have a brother who’s an orthodontist.”

Michelle nodded, pride welling up inside her.  Her big brother had made it.  “We’re really close.”

“As family should be.”

“Well, goodbye.  Have a nice time.”  Michelle needed him gone so she could kick herself in the ass.

He lingered, looking around warily.  “Are you going to be okay in this big house alone on your first night?”

What, was he afraid she was going to call her hoodlum friends to clean the place out the minute his car disappeared around the corner?  Michelle smiled at the wicked thought.  “I’ll be fine, Erik.”

“Okay, bye.”  He finally left.

“Stupid.  Stupid.  Stupid.”  Michelle slapped her palms against the sides of her head.  How could she let this happen? She was hired to take care of the child, not seduce the father.

Her impulsive behavior could cause complications for all of them, she realized as she began collecting the leftovers from the sideboard.  She took the serving dishes to the kitchen that was as elaborately decorated as the rest of the house.

The alabaster marble island in the center of the kitchen was trimmed in red oak to match the cabinets with decorated glass doors and gold handles.  His wife had definitely had good taste, which brought her back to her dilemma.

By now Erik was probably back to his initial impression of her—a cheap tramp from the wrong side of the river.  If he did, she couldn't blame him.  She had offered herself to him, and he was only a man—one with huge needs.  Her skin tingled at the memory of his strong arms pulling her into him, his hot tongue ravishing her mouth, and the enormous bulge in his pants pressing into her heat.