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. He’d booked a hotel room for the night where he planned to propose to Michelle—bended 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, he’d 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 Manchester—the youth center especially, but he hoped she loved him enough to follow him to the ends of the earth. He couldn’t imagine moving without her, living without her in his life. But if she said no, he loved her enough to stay, with one slight change—they would have to buy a home right away. He wasn’t spending any more time than he had to in a house in which he was psychologically incapable of making love with his wife.
When he’d called Michelle earlier to finalize their plans for tonight and tomorrow, she’d sounded a bit worried he thought. She’d said that she wanted to talk with him about something important before they left for the hotel. He’d wondered if it were possible that she was pregnant. Even though they’d used condoms in Cape Cod, he knew those things were wont to break at times. He’d 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 didn’t want anything keeping him from her. He pressed the answer button. “Yes.”
“There’s a detective here to see you, Dr. LaCrosse,” the receptionist said.
“A detective?” His first thought was that something had happened to his daughter, his mother, or… “Did he say what it’s about?”
“Erik, it’s Garret,” a masculine voice said. “It’s old business.”
Garret. A cold hand twisted inside Erik’s gut. He really didn’t want to deal with old news tonight. But he’d asked the detective to reopen the case, so it was only fair he heard him out. He would either tell him he’d found Cassie’s killer or that he hadn’t, and was closing the case permanently. He was moving on either way.
He met the medium-built man at the door. “I didn’t know you made house calls, Detective.”
“Only for special friends on very special occasions.” 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 he’d come to know quite well two years ago, but not tonight. “So what’s the news? Good or bad?” he asked with a bit of impatience.
“I’m afraid I have both.”
That cold hand tightened around his gut again. “Good news would be that you found the bastard who killed my wife. Bad news would be that you’re closing the case permanently because all leads have gone cold and since it can’t be both—”
“Erik, I found him.”
Erik took a deep ragged breath to combat the shaking in his bones. “What’s bad about that? We’ve all been waiting for this day for a long time.”
“It’s the who that makes it bad.”
Erik stared at the man, not understanding why he should care who the drunk was that killed his wife. “Just give it to me.”
“As you wish, but I think you should sit down,” Garret warned.
“I don’t want to sit.”
“Okay then. A few days ago, some new prints showed up in the database. They were from a recent DUI in Trenton.”
“New Jersey?”
Garret nodded.
“Did he kill someone else?” He couldn’t imagine another family, a husband and child living through the same horror he had.
“Not this time,” Garret answered. “He ran off the road and into the side of a cafeteria. Thank God it was after hours.”
“And why wasn’t I informed before now?”
“I didn’t 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.”
“And…” Erik spread his hands in impatience. He couldn’t believe that after all this time, he could finally put this nightmare behind him. The timing was so perfect.
“That’s the bad news.”
Erik’s heart beat hard and fast within his chest. “What’s bad about that?”
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 didn’t know what to expect. But somehow he knew he would not like whatever it was the detective would tell him next. “Garret.”
“When I questioned him, he confessed everything. Erik, the man who killed your wife is—”
“Is what, Garret?” Erik took a step and towered over the detective. “Who killed my wife?”
“Dwight Carter. The father of your daughter’s nanny.”
Erik’s heart dropped to his belly. He staggered backward against his desk. He took quick shallow breaths as bile rose in his throat. “No. It can’t be. Not him,” he mumbled, shaking his head in rejection. “It can’t be him.”
“I’m sorry, Erik. I wish I didn’t have to give you this kind of news. He’s already in custody. I could swing by your house and pick up the nanny tonight.”
Erik raised his head. “Pick her up?”
“For questioning. She’s an accomplice if she knew what her old man did and kept quiet all this time. I’ve contacted the Boston PD to take the son in for questioning, too. Come on, do you really think it’s a big coincidence that she showed up at your house for a nanny position? I mean what are the odds? Nil to none, I’ll tell you. It must have been guilt that sent her to you.”
“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.
