Read The Doctor's Secret Bride (1) Online

Authors: Ana E. Ross

Tags: #Romance, #Contemporary

The Doctor's Secret Bride (1) (27 page)

His eyes wandered to Michelle, dressed in an ankle-length animal print dress with a knotted sarong at the front.  She looked like a female leopard, strutting gracefully through the jungle, and he felt like the hunter, the predaceous male in hot pursuit.

He missed her terribly, and he wished...

“...surprised I was when Michelle called last night and invited me to dinner.”

Robert’s hearty laugh dragged Erik out of his daydreams.  He chuckled, having no idea what he was chuckling about.  “Come on in, Robert.  Mrs. Hayes has set out some hors d’oeuvres.  We could have a drink until our other guests arrive.”  He led the way into the house.

“Other guests?  I thought I was the only family you had,” Robert whispered to Michelle.

“Oh, I forgot to tell you, I also invited Yasmine and her nephew, Peter.”

“Yasmine?  How is she?”

“You can ask her when she gets here,” Michelle said, wondering at the smile on his face.

“What would you like to drink, Robert?”

“A martini, please.  Dry, if it’s available.”

“Coming right up.”  Erik made himself busy at the bar.

“Michelle, can you tie my bow in my hair, please?”

Michelle turned at the voice of her ward.  “Sure, baby.  Come on.”

“You must be Precious.”  Robert smiled, crouching down to eye level with the little girl as Michelle fiddled with the long strip of ribbon.

“And you must be Robert.”  Precious returned his smile.

“Mr. Carter to you, young lady,” her father stated sternly.

“Robert’s fine with me.”

“She must respect her elders.”

“How about Uncle Robert?  I never had an uncle before.”

“And I never had a niece,” Robert said with an animated smile.  “Deal?”  He held up his hand for a high-five.

“Deal, Uncle Robert.”  Precious slapped her palm to his.

“All done.”  Michelle almost choked on the words.  She turned to the table, laden with goodies, picked up a chunk of cheese and stuffed it into her mouth.  The very idea of Precious calling her brother ‘Uncle’ shattered her nerves.  If Robert was Precious’ uncle, that made her her mother.  And she was her stepmother, so Precious was indeed Robert’s niece—by law.   But nobody knew that—nobody but her and Erik.

She cast a wary look at Erik who was keenly observing his daughter and her brother as they talked and laughed as if they’d know each other for years.  He turned his head and his eyes caught and held hers.  The warmth she saw spilling from him made her heart ache with need.

The doorbell chimed, breaking the intangible web of memories spinning between them.

“Peter is here!”  Precious deserted her new uncle and raced to the door.

“The real man of her dreams,” Erik murmured.  “Even I come in second to this Peter guy.”

“So I figure you haven’t met him yet?”

“Not yet.”

Robert laughed as he took the martini glass from Erik.

Michelle left the men, but by the time she got to the foyer, Yasmine and Peter were already inside.

“I saw Robert’s car outside, I hope we’re not late,” Yasmine said.

“You’re fine.”  Michelle hugged her friend.  “I asked Robert to come earlier.  I had to talk to him about something.  You look good, girl,” she added, taking in the little black dress her friend was wearing.  “I know you didn’t wear that for Erik, so it must be for Robert.”

“Robert?  Please.”  Yasmine tossed the absurd statement aside with a swipe of her wrist.

Michelle laughed.  Robert and Yasmine never mixed well.  He used to call her a sassy-mouth little minx, and she’d called him a stiff-shirt prude—all in teenage jest of course.  “Come on, the men are waiting,” she said as Precious and Peter raced back to the formal living room.

“Smells great in here,” Yasmine said.

“We’re having roast quail for dinner.”

Yasmine smacked her lips.  “Lead me to the kitchen, now.”

As they entered the room, Michelle saw Erik standing tall and imposing over poor little Peter, a devilish look on his face.

“So, you are the young man who’s been courting my daughter?  Keeping her out at all kinds of ungodly hours.  Well, let me tell you, young man, I won’t stand for it.”

Peter literally trembled in his little sneakers.  “I… I didn’t
coat
her,” he stammered, backing away from Erik.  “I… I just play with her.  I… I didn’t keep her out late.”  He turned frightened eyes to Yasmine. “What’s
coating,
Aunt Yasmine?”

The adults burst into laughter.

“Well, if you have to ask, I guess you’re on the up and up.”  Erik tried to keep a straight face.  “Just remember, she’s my baby, so you better treat her right.”  He ruffled Peter’s curly black hair.  “Now, run along.  Precious is anxious to show you her fish.  And keep the noise down,” he called, as they scrambled up the stairs.

“Wow, talk about pressure.”  Yasmine fanned her flushed face with her hands.  “You almost made that poor little boy wet his pants.”

“He’s practicing for the real thing when Precious is old enough to date,” Michelle said.

“That’ll be about thirty years from now.”  Erik chuckled.

Michelle noticed Yasmine eyeing Erik up and down, practically sizing him up.  If it were any other woman, she would wrap her hands around her hair and rip it from her scalp.  But she knew her best friend would never make a move on a man she was interested in, much less her husband.  Yasmine was just trying to figure out if he was worth Michelle’s trouble.

Michelle stepped forward and introduced them.

“Nice to finally meet you, Erik.”  Yasmine smiled sweetly.

“Yasmine,” he said simply, shaking her hand.

“You have a very lovely home.”

“Michelle will be delighted to give you a tour after dinner.”  He gestured for them to sit.

“Michelle has told me a lot about you,” Yasmine kept up the conversation as she sat down next to Michelle on a burgundy divan.

“Really?”  Erik cast a questioning glance at Michelle.

“Just what a brilliant doctor, devoted father, and marvelous employer you are,” Michelle chirped.  Was he being cool toward Yasmine because he thought she’d told her about their marriage and night of passion?  Men assumed their women talked to each other about such private matters.  She hoped Erik knew her well enough to know she’d keep their intimate relationship a secret.

“Would you care for a drink, Yasmine?” Erik asked.

“Yes, Chardonnay, please.”

“I know what you want,” he said, his eyes softening as he gazed at Michelle.

Yeah, I bet you do, she thought at the loaded statement.

“Help yourselves to the hors d’oeuvres, ladies,” he said on his way over to the rolling bar cart.

“Where’s Robert?” Michelle asked, as she and Yasmine reached for plates and began filling them with the delicacies on the long low table in front of the divan.

“He’s visiting with Mrs. Hayes in the kitchen.”  He brought over Michelle’s Perrier and Yasmine’s glass of white wine then sat in a chair facing them.

“So, Dr. Erik,” Yasmine drawled in a silky tone, battering her eyelashes at him.  “Are you receiving any new patients?  I haven’t had a thorough checkup for a while.”

“It’s recommended you have one every year.”  Erik was mildly amused with her audaciousness.  No wonder she and Michelle were best friends.

His gaze wandered to Michelle.  He wanted so badly to erase the memories of her abusive childhood, give her some new ones to muse on, like those they made in Boston a week ago.  Because of Danielle’s death, he hadn’t had time to properly reminisce on that night.  But now that life had somewhat resumed its normal pace, he’d begun craving the taste and smell of Michelle in his mouth again, the feel of her tight body gripping him like a glove.

He would have to wait another week since he was leaving for Washington, D.C. tomorrow for a medical conference.  He’d thought of taking Precious and Michelle along with him, but there were more pressing matters to attend to.

He’d learned that Clayton had recently returned from a medical mission to Uganda, and would be attending the conference.  This was his chance to learn the truth about the scene he’d walked in on between Clayton and his wife, over two years ago.  The scene that had started the argument that ultimately led to Cassie’s death.  He was not leaving D.C. without answers.

“Yasmine,” Michelle scoffed, “when we were kids you always said you would never go to a male doctor.”

“The doctors we knew back then were old and bald.  I’ll make an appointment anytime to see a hunk like Dr. Erik.”   She placed a stuffed clam in her mouth and slowly chewed on it.

“Yasmine Reynolds, you’re still the impertinent fresh-mouthed girl I remember.”  Robert strode into the room.

“And you still have the most kissable lips I’ve ever seen on a man—stiff, but kissable.”  Yasmine set down her plate and hurried over to give Robert a big hug.

Michelle smiled at the pair who as far back as she could remember fought like cats and dogs.  But when the mist cleared, they were one happy little family.

Yasmine reclaimed her seat while Robert sat in an identical chair close to Erik.  He picked up the martini he’d left on the table.

“You look yummy, Robert.  Perhaps I should make an appointment to have my teeth cleaned,” Yasmine said with a twinkle in her eyes.

“I’m sure you have very strong teeth, Yasmine Reynolds.”

“I don’t know, maybe if I bit you on those kiss—”

“You two need to stop,” Michelle said, feeling herself flush at the heat her brother and her best friend were generating.  Was something going on between them?  She looked at Erik who was watching them with a purely enjoyable expression on his face.  She was certain he was thinking of their time together in Boston and the sexual banter they’d exchanged while making love.  He’d made it fun.  She wanted to smack the stupid grin off his face.

“Just like old times?”  Mrs. Hayes bustled into the room, grinning from ear to ear.  “Never in a million years would I have thought I would be serving dinner to Robert and Michelle in the doctor’s dining room.”

“Mrs. Hayes, do you remember Yasmine Reynolds?” Michelle asked.

“Of course.  Luke and Marie’s little girl, right?”

“Right.”  Yasmine said.  “I remember the delicious bread pudding you used to make and invite the neighborhood kids to sit on your porch and wash down with cool lemonade.”

 “Those were the good old days.”  The older woman’s eyes lit up with joyful memories.  “You’ve all grown up into such beautiful young people—Robert a dentist, Michelle advocating for the poor and needy, and Yasmine, Michelle tells me you’re studying law.  The good Lord didn’t see fit to bless my womb, but I couldn’t be prouder if you were my own children.”

“Oh that’s very sweet.”  Michelle dabbed at her tears as she rose and walked over to her dear old friend.

“We think the world of you, too.  You kept Michelle and me alive, gave us hope,” Robert said as he and Yasmine joined Michelle in giving the kind old soul a group-hug.

A smiling Mrs. Hayes finally turned to Erik.  “Dinner is about ready, Dr. Do you want me to call the children down?”

“Please.”  Erik waited until the housekeeper had vacated the room and everyone had returned to their seats.  “So, Yasmine, you grew up on the same street as Michelle and Robert?  You must have been friends since...”

“First grade,” Yasmine supplied.  “We were pavement poor, but happy.”  She glanced at Michelle.  “Well, sometimes we were.”

“Michelle told me about the abuse she suffered from her father,” he said to let her know she was not betraying her friend by telling him about her past.  “I’m really impressed at how all of you have made such successes of your lives.  I was born with a silver spoon in my mouth, yet I feel like a failure compared to you who had to work so hard for your achievements.”

“To balance it out, Erik, lots of kids from your side of the fence end up on ours.  The teenage daughter of one of my affluent clients got hooked on drugs.  They tried everything to rehabilitate her, but eventually had to let her go for the sake of their other children.  She’s now living on the streets of Boston, doing any and everything to find her next fix.  That’s just one example,” Robert added, dolefully.  “We have no control over where we come from, only where we end up.”

“A proven truism,” Erik declared.  “You’re all survivors, and now you’re helping others find their way out of the same situations you were in.”  He glanced at his darling Michelle, the sweetest, most altruistic soul he’d ever met.  “The work Michelle is doing at the youth center is absolutely amazing.  She gives of her time to make sure those kids have a chance to make it over the fence.”

“Michelle has the biggest, kindest heart.  I’m not surprised at the path she’s taken.”  Robert smiled at his sister.  “We had very little as kids, but Michelle still gave away what she had to her friends who had even less.”

“You’re very protective of her.”

“Yes, I am.”

Erik reached for an escargot.  He heard the pride in Robert’s voice.  He’d done an excellent job of raising a beautiful, self-assured young lady who’d easily held her own in a room full of brilliant doctors.  “I’m an only child.  Often I wish I had the support of a sibling, like what you and Michelle had when your mother passed away, and more recently when your father died.”

Yasmine coughed.  Michelle glanced at her, and their eyes held for a few seconds before Yasmine looked away.  Michelle could just imagine what was going on in her friend’s mind.

“Sorry.”  Yasmine covered her surprise and took a long sip of wine.  “The shrimp’s a little too spicy for me.”

Robert got up, walked to the back of the divan and placed his hands on his sister’s shoulders.  “I’ve been taking care of Michelle since the day she got home from the hospital, Erik.  Our father was so busy feeling sorry for himself over the loss of our mother, he forgot about us.  I was only five years old, but with the help of kind neighbors like Mrs. Hayes, I learned real fast how to feed, bathe, burp a baby, and change diapers.  So, yes, Michelle and I have always had each other, and I will continue to protect her until another man steps up to the plate.”

Michelle trembled with anxiety, but gathered strength from her brother’s supportive touch.  She was such a hypocrite for teaching the children at the center to always tell the truth, no matter what, when she, herself, was living a blatant lie.

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