The Doctor’s Secret Bride: Chapter 19
The Doctor’s Secret Bride (Billionaire Brides of Granite Falls Book 1)
Having seen his last patient and having made his last round of the day, Erik gathered some pamphlets from his desk and dropped them into his briefcase. A smile curled his lips as he shrugged out of his lab coat and hung it on a rack. He was anxious to get home. Heâd booked a hotel room for the night where he planned to propose to Michelleâbended knees and all. Then tomorrow he was sharing their good news with his parents and Robert and Yasmine during a family dinner.
He could just imagine the awe on their faces when he announced that he and Michelle had been married for almost a month. Precious would be happiest of all, he thought, his smile breaking into a grin. She deserved to have a normal life. She needed to know that Michelle was there for her, not as a nanny who could someday leave her, but as a mother who loved her and would be there for her, always.
He and Precious had been to hell and back, and finally he could see the light at the end of their long dark tunnel of despair. Their lives were changing once again. This time for the better. And speaking of change, heâd contacted the Chief of Staff at Granite Falls Memorial Hospital about rejoining the staff there.
His heart was longing for home. He wanted his children to be born and raised in Granite Falls. He understood that Michelle had ties in Manchesterâthe youth center especially, but he hoped she loved him enough to follow him to the ends of the earth. He couldnât imagine moving without her, living without her in his life. But if she said no, he loved her enough to stay, with one slight changeâthey would have to buy a home right away. He wasnât spending any more time than he had to in a house in which he was psychologically incapable of making love with his wife.
When heâd called Michelle earlier to finalize their plans for tonight and tomorrow, sheâd sounded a bit worried he thought. Sheâd said that she wanted to talk with him about something important before they left for the hotel. Heâd wondered if it were possible that she was pregnant. Even though theyâd used condoms in Cape Cod, he knew those things were wont to break at times. Heâd delivered many condom-breaking babies. That would be the happiest news she could give him.
Turning from the window, Erik walked back to his desk. He was reaching for his briefcase when the intercom on his desk buzzed. He stared at the blinking button, hoping it was not a patient. There was only one woman he wished to see tonight, and he didnât want anything keeping him from her. He pressed the answer button. âYes.â
âThereâs a detective here to see you, Dr. LaCrosse,â the receptionist said.
âA detective?â His first thought was that something had happened to his daughter, his mother, or⦠âDid he say what itâs about?â
âErik, itâs Garret,â a masculine voice said. âItâs old business.â
Garret. A cold hand twisted inside Erikâs gut. He really didnât want to deal with old news tonight. But heâd asked the detective to reopen the case, so it was only fair he heard him out. He would either tell him heâd found Cassieâs killer or that he hadnât, and was closing the case permanently. He was moving on either way.
He met the medium-built man at the door. âI didnât know you made house calls, Detective.â
âOnly for special friends on very special occasions.â Garret threw him a wan smile as he stepped into the office.
Erik closed the door. On any other day, he would have loved to stay and chat with the man heâd come to know quite well two years ago, but not tonight. âSo whatâs the news? Good or bad?â he asked with a bit of impatience.
âIâm afraid I have both.â
That cold hand tightened around his gut again. âGood news would be that you found the bastard who killed my wife. Bad news would be that youâre closing the case permanently because all leads have gone cold and since it canât be bothââ
âErik, I found him.â
Erik took a deep ragged breath to combat the shaking in his bones. âWhatâs bad about that? Weâve all been waiting for this day for a long time.â
âItâs the who that makes it bad.â
Erik stared at the man, not understanding why he should care who the drunk was that killed his wife. âJust give it to me.â
âAs you wish, but I think you should sit down,â Garret warned.
âI donât want to sit.â
âOkay then. A few days ago, some new prints showed up in the database. They were from a recent DUI in Trenton.â
âNew Jersey?â
Garret nodded.
âDid he kill someone else?â He couldnât imagine another family, a husband and child living through the same horror he had.
âNot this time,â Garret answered. âHe ran off the road and into the side of a cafeteria. Thank God it was after hours.â
âAnd why wasnât I informed before now?â
âI didnât want to get your hopes up, unnecessarily. I wanted to talk to this man. Make sure he is our guy. Since he was still in the custody of the local police, I took a trip down to Trenton.â
âAndâ¦â Erik spread his hands in impatience. He couldnât believe that after all this time, he could finally put this nightmare behind him. The timing was so perfect.
âThatâs the bad news.â
Erikâs heart beat hard and fast within his chest. âWhatâs bad about that?â
Garret glanced away, his expression growing even more somber than when he walked into the office.
Erik felt the blood drain from his body. He didnât know what to expect. But somehow he knew he would not like whatever it was the detective would tell him next. âGarret.â
âWhen I questioned him, he confessed everything. Erik, the man who killed your wife isââ
âIs what, Garret?â Erik took a step and towered over the detective. âWho killed my wife?â
âDwight Carter. The father of your daughterâs nanny.â
Erikâs heart dropped to his belly. He staggered backward against his desk. He took quick shallow breaths as bile rose in his throat. âNo. It canât be. Not him,â he mumbled, shaking his head in rejection. âIt canât be him.â
âIâm sorry, Erik. I wish I didnât have to give you this kind of news. Heâs already in custody. I could swing by your house and pick up the nanny tonight.â
Erik raised his head. âPick her up?â
âFor questioning. Sheâs an accomplice if she knew what her old man did and kept quiet all this time. Iâve contacted the Boston PD to take the son in for questioning, too. Come on, do you really think itâs a big coincidence that she showed up at your house for a nanny position? I mean what are the odds? Nil to none, Iâll tell you. It must have been guilt that sent her to you.â
âGarret, I wish youâd never come here, today of all days. I wish youâd never told me who killed Cassie.â
Garret tilted his head to one side. âI donât understand.â
âIâm in love with her. I married her!â He pounded his fist on the desk.
âOh boy, I didnât know.â
The last think Erik needed was the pity he heard in the detectiveâs voice. He turned his back to him, trying desperately to hold back his rage. âThanks for stopping by,â he said as calmly as he could. âAnd please, leave his children alone. I know them, and I know they would never be mixed up in anything so horrible. If theyâd know, they would have turned him in.â
He couldnât 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 heâd had before.
âIâm sorry,â Garret said again. âIâll keep you posted with the details.â
When the door closed, Erik cleared his desk with one swipe of his hand.
âNo! No! No!â 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 childâsâCassieâs childâto the very woman whose father had caused them so much grief?
Ice spread through Erikâs stomach. Michelle had told him that her father was dead, then she told him sheâd lied, and that she didnât 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. Thatâs 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 sheâd 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. Heâd given himself to herâheart, body, and soul. The passionate intimate memories that only minutes ago had brought him such joy, now tasted like bitter gall in his mouth. Heâd 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 heâd 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. Sheâd been so filled with anxiety that she was barely able to get through the day. Sheâd dropped Precious off at Feliciaâs 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 heâd discovered something about their fatherâsomething that puzzled him. Heâd promised to tell her all about it tomorrow night when he came for dinner.
After hanging up the phone, Michelle had decided that she wasnât 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.
Sheâd called him several times but he never picked up. Filled with worry, sheâd called Felicia a short while ago to see if sheâd heard from him. She had, but heâd 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 theyâd shared. The only thing Michelle could think of was that heâd 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 sheâd 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 heâd shown up at the hospital drunk, and demanded money to stave off embarrassment? Heâd 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. Sheâd forgotten who she was, where sheâd come from in the space of four short months. She was a girl from the inner city, a nanny whoâd secretly married the father of her charge, and who was stupid enough to fall in love with him.
The fact that heâd married her and told her he loved her brought her no solace. He was in love with a woman he didnât really know, a woman whoâd lied to him. Sheâd 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. Thatâs 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. Sheâd ruined Erik. There was no way he would trust another woman again. Not after Cassie.
And definitely not after her.
***
âWake up, Michelle.â
Michelle jumped awake at the rumbling voice. Her eyes popped wide open and her body went numb when she encountered the cold contempt in Erikâs eyes.
Heâd switched on the bedside lamp and was sitting on the side of her bed, glaring at her. Tension distorted his face. Sheâd 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.
âErikââ
âHush! Donât say a word!â He placed a finger against her lips. âYou 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 wouldnât be able to resist you even when the truth came out?â
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.
âErikââ
âI said not to talk, Michelle. You had three months to tell me everything. You are going to listen now. I am Cassieâs husband,â he said with deadly calm. âPrecious is Cassieâs daughter, and this is Cassieâs house. You thought you could just waltz in here and claim it all?â
She read the sparks of ruthlessness in his eyes. This was definitely about more than her withholding information about her drunken father. âWhat did I do, Erik? Why are you looking at me with such disgust?â
âYou knew where he was all this time, didnât you?â
âWho, Erik? Who?â
âYour father, Michelle. You knew where he was.â
Michelleâs mind whirled in a crazy mixture of confusion. âNo. I donât know where my father is.â
âDonât lie to me, Michelle! Iâve had it with deceitful women. I canât take anymore lies.â
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 couldnât 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. Heâd just spent the last two hours sitting on his wifeâs grave, begging her to forgive him for bringing the daughter of the man whoâd killed her into her home, into their childâs 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.
âYou told me your father was dead,â he said. âThen you told me you lied about that. You didnât give me the full story, Michelle. You withheld vital information.â
The words stabbed at Michelleâs heart. So heâd found out? How? And why did it make him this bitter? âNo,â Michelle blurted out. âI didnât give you the whole story because I was ashamed of him. Heâs a drunk. Heâs always been a drunk. And when I found out that it was a drunk who killed Casââ
âDo not speak my wifeâs name, Michelle. Youâve lost that privilege.â
âIâm your wife, Erik.â
He uttered a contemptuous laugh. âDo not remind me of that. Is there anything else youâd like to tell me, Michelle?â
âNo.â Tears pooled in her eyes. Sheâd hurt him. She swallowed the bile that rose to the back of her throat. âIâm sorry.â She placed a hand on his arm. âI was going to tell you the whole story tonight. I swear, Erik. I was going to tell you that my father is a drunk. Thatâs what I wanted to talk about before we left for the hotel.â
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 heâd found himself in. Like Garret had said, it was a one in a million chance.
He glanced down at Michelleâs 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 heâd 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 Godâs 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.