The Doctor's Secret Bride (1) (6 page)

Whew
.  She fanned her face with her hand and stood a little longer in front of the fridge before heading back into the dining room.

She was a half-day on the job and she was already giving her boss permission to do with her whatever he wanted.  From now on, she had to be strong.  Tough.  His kind could hurt her.  Real bad.  She wasn’t the kind of woman men like Dr. Erik LaCrosse considered as permanent additions to their lives.  He went for the classy type.  The
couth
.  He would play with her like a little boy with a new toy on Christmas morning then he would toss her aside when he got bored.

Not that she was looking to settle down with anybody any time soon.  She had to put her life back together.  She had to write her book and build a new youth center for the kids in Manchester.  Then if she was real lucky, she’d find the right man—one in her own league—settle down, have a few kids of her own, and live happily ever after like Cinderella and Prince Charming.

Michelle chortled.  She should know better than to make plans and build castles in the sky.  The plans she’d made so far had been foiled so badly she was now living in the house of the rich and famous and clearing their dinner table like a maid.  Maybe she shouldn’t even make plans.  Maybe she should just take one day at a time and hope Fate eventually threw her a lifeline.

Michelle carried the last pile of fine china to the kitchen and was in the process of stacking the dishwasher when the phone rang.  She glanced at the cordless extension on the counter, hoping it wasn’t anyone looking for the doctor.  He hadn’t told her where he was going, just that he was taking his daughter to see a play.  Worse, what if it was his couth lady friend? 
Nah
, she was sure he would have told his woman where he was.  She could be with him right now for all Michelle knew.

Or… it could be Erik, calling to see if she was still here, or if she’d called her friends to help her clean the place out and left.  She smiled at the wicked thought.  Maybe she should just let the answering machine pick it up.  She was sure he had one somewhere in the house.

When the phone just kept ringing, she snatched up the extension.  “Hello.  The LaCrosse’s residence.”

“Hey, Mich.”

Michelle let out a long sigh of relief at the sound of Yasmine’s voice.  She’d called her best friend earlier and left the house number since her cell phone didn’t work in this area.  Too many trees around.  God, she was going to miss the buzz of Manchester.

“So did you get the job?” Yasmine asked.

“I got the job.”

“Excellent!”

“Why, you happy to have your apartment back to yourself?”

“Come on, Mich.  You know it’s not about that.  I’m glad you’re getting your break.”

Michelle chuckled.  “I know.  Hey,” she added as she perched on a bar stool at the breakfast nook.  “Speaking of breaks, you’d never guess who the housekeeper is.”

“Okay, so tell me.”

“Mrs. Hayes.  You remember I told you I ran into her at Mama Lola’s about a month ago?”

“Yeah.  Did she get you the job?”

“She wouldn’t admit it, but I’m sure she had something to do with it.  She must have some clout with the owners at Ready Nanny Agency and asked them to cancel the other candidate and send me on the interview instead.”  Michelle didn’t see the sense in telling Yasmine of the lie Erik had told Mrs. Hayes to tell her.  “Anyway, she said I’m here because God wants me here.”

“Well, maybe she’s right.  I’m glad you have somebody looking out for you over there.”

“Yeah, I guess.”

“So how is the kid?  Not a rich spoiled brat, I hope,” Yasmine said.

“She’s sweet.  I like her.  I think we’ll get along fine.”  She’d give Yasmine the facts about her and Precious’ first meeting later.

“And her parents?  What are they like?”

Michelle’s lips ruffled into a smile.   If Yasmine could see it, she’d probably slap the giddy out of her.  “Well, her father is nice.”

“Mich, you holding out on me.”

Her smile deepened into a grin.  Yasmine knew her too well.   “Okay.   He’s handsome, sexy, and he’s a brother.”

“Really?”

“Well—half of him is.  And he kissed me,” Michelle added as her pulse raced with the sweet memories of being in Erik’s arms.

A short silence rang on the other end then Yasmine shouted, “What kind of man kisses his child’s nanny, especially on her first day at work?  Mich, you need to get out of that house, fast.  Just give me the address, and I’ll come pick you up, right now.”

“It’s not like that, Yas,” Michelle corrected her friend who had been looking out for her since they were in kindergarten.  Yasmine had even offered to have her brothers beat the stupid out of her father for wrecking her life.

Michelle hadn’t even told Robert what he’d done.  It was for her brother’s own good, because she knew he would find him and do something bad to him.  She didn’t want her brother spending the rest of his life in jail over their rotten good-for-nothing father.

Robert still thought she’d lost everything because she’d lost her job, and had been living beyond her means, which was partly true.  But she’d been denied so much for so long, Michelle hadn’t seen the harm in spoiling herself a little.  In addition, she’d been buying clothes and other necessities for some of the kids at the center who had nothing.  She wanted to bring some happiness to their lives, see them smile.

“And where was his wife while he was kissing you?” Yasmine continued.  “Don’t tell me they’re a swinging couple who hire innocent girls to fulfill their sexual fantasies.”

“Yasmine, his wife is dead.  He’s been a widower for two years.”

“Oh, okay.  Was she sick or something?”

“No.  She was killed by a drunk driver,” Michelle said quietly.

“Oh man, Mich.  That’s too close to home.”

“You’re telling me.  The worse thing is they haven’t found him, yet.  As far as Dr. Erik LaCrosse is concerned, every drunk out there is a potential suspect, including my father.”

“Did you tell him about your father?” Yasmine asked.

Michelle sighed and picked up a crystal saltshaker from the breakfast bar and twirled it between her fingers.  “What am I supposed to say?  By the way, Dr. LaCrosse, my father is a drunk.  It’s possible he’s the one who killed your wife.”  He’d already formed an opinion about her the moment she stepped out of the cab.  She’d had to prove herself fit to take care of his kid, and that still didn’t mean he trusted her completely.   He didn’t know anything about her.

“I see what you mean,” Yasmine said.  “But what are you going to tell him when he does ask about your family?  He will want to know.  I’m surprised he hasn’t already asked.”

“I don’t know what I’ll tell him, Yas.”  Michelle set the saltshaker back on the counter.

“You know, I’ve said this before and I’ll say it again.  That man may not be your real father.  Neither you nor Robert looks like him.”

“Yas, give it up.  Lots of kids don’t look like their fathers or mothers for that matter.  You don’t look like your dad.  And don’t you think our mother would have said something to Robert if that were the case?”

“Maybe she wanted to, but couldn’t.  Maybe he threatened her.  You know that temper of his.”

“So if Dwight is not our father, where is our real father?” Michelle asked.  “Why hasn’t he been looking for us all these years?”

“I don’t know, Mich.  Maybe you should go find out.”

“Yeah, right.  You watch too much TV.”

“It’s not TV.  It’s the weird cases I come across since I’ve been studying criminal law.  You wouldn’t believe the things some people would do for no reason whatsoever.  There are thousands of unsolved cases out there.”

“Well, I’m sure there are a lot, but mine isn’t one of them.  Bye, Yas.”

After she hung up, Michelle pondered over Yasmine’s question about what she would tell Erik when he asked about her father.  One thing she knew was that she could not tell him her father was a drunk, had been since she could remember.  Erik would begin to second-guess her character, her ethics, because that’s what people do when they learn you were raised in an unhealthy home environment.  If Erik began to question her upbringing, he might be inclined to fire her.

As she slid off the stool and headed up a flight of stairs that led from the kitchen to the second floor, Michelle knew one thing: she would not let Dwight Carter take this job away from her.  He had taken enough already.

As to the other matter about Dwight not being her real father, well that was just preposterous.

CHAPTER FOUR

Erik poured himself a mug of coffee and sipped at it as he stared out the kitchen window at the Monadnock Mountains in the distance.  Usually after his daily seven-mile run, he’d enjoy his coffee over his edition of
The New York Times
while the house was as quiet as his thoughts.  His thoughts were anything but quiet today.  Images of a very beautiful young woman had been running about in his head since yesterday afternoon and he couldn’t make them stop.

He hadn’t even been able to enjoy the play with Precious last night.  They had gotten home after midnight—not because the play had run late, but because he’d been too shaken up over that passionate kiss between him and his daughter’s new nanny to come back to the house.

He’d gone to visit his mother, who was always happy to see her only child and grandchild.  She was up late, packing for her annual three-week cruise to the Caribbean with her friends, and since she was leaving in two days, she’d assumed he’d come to say goodbye, and didn’t question his late and impromptu visit.

His mother had put her life on hold to help out with Precious while he was searching for Holly’s replacement, so it was no surprise that she’d thrown her hands in the air and exclaimed, “It’s about time, Erik!” when he told her he’d hired a new nanny.

If she only knew the new nanny wasn’t old, but an attractive, irresistible temptress, who’d already managed to wiggle her way under his thick skin, his mother would have brought out the champagne.  After all, she’d been badgering him about remarrying and giving her more grandchildren before she was too old to spoil them.

He could tell her that since he had no intentions of marrying again, Precious was the only grandchild she’d ever have and that she should enjoy her all she could.  But that would be cruel, so he indulged her and told her she would have all the grandchildren she wanted when he found the right woman, to which she always responded, “Fastidious as you are, that’ll probably never happen.  It’s a miracle that Cassie managed to land you.”  The woman just could not be pleased, he thought, an affectionate smile spreading across his face.

Erik tensed as he heard footsteps coming down the hallway.  It was too early for either Mrs. Hayes or Precious to be up, so he knew it was Michelle.  She was an early riser, he thought, a bit disconcerted that he’d have to adjust his morning routine just when he’d finally gotten used to it.

He turned when the footsteps halted and a soft gasp echoed behind him.  Michelle was standing under the arch separating the kitchen from the dining room.  Thank goodness she was fully dressed in jeans and a far less revealing shirt than the one she showed up in yesterday.  They looked clean, but a bit rumpled and faded.  He hadn’t suggested it, but he hoped she’d go shopping today for the new wardrobe she needed so badly.  He’d given her quite a bit more than a month’s salary, and he hoped her pride didn’t get in the way of making herself presentable.

“Hi.  Good morning,” she said, her eyes darting around the room as if to confirm they were alone.  “Um... I didn’t mean to disturb you.  I’ll go back upstairs until you’re gone.”  Her gaze flittered apprehensively over his damp shorts and T-shirt clad body.

What a picture he must make, he thought half amused, even as he marveled at the impeccable smoothness of her bare skin, and the black long lashes flanking those dark sensual eyes.  She was one of those lucky women who didn’t need makeup.

He set his empty mug on the table.  “Michelle, it’s okay.  I was just having coffee.  Besides, we need to talk about Precious’ schedule and other things.  What better time than when there’s no one else around?”

“You run?”

“Seven to ten miles every day.  And I lift weights three days a week at the country club.”  He chuckled.  “Have to, or else I’ll be as big as your pet bull Calvin.  Mrs. Hayes is a wonderful cook, and I love to eat.”

“I noticed that last night.”  A faint smile played at the corners of her voluptuous lips, but her eyes remained wary.

She was guarded, Erik thought with a frown.  She wasn’t the feisty spitfire that had burst into his study yesterday.  Was it their kiss that was coming between them?  Damn his blasted libido.  “What about you, how do you stay in shape?”

She shrugged.  “I walk.  When I lost my job and had to give up my car, I learned to use the legs God gave me.  But now—”

“Now you have a new job that comes with full medical and dental benefits and a membership to the Amherst Country Club.  I take care of my employees, Michelle,” he said with a smile.

“I noticed that.  I visited Mrs. Hayes in the guesthouse last night.  It’s really nice.”

“Well, she deserves it.   Come, sit.”  He gestured toward the table.  “Would you like a cup of coffee?”

“Please.”

He took his empty mug to the coffee cart that Mrs. Hayes had been preparing every night for eight years.  When Cassie was alive, after he returned from running, they would sit at the kitchen table and have coffee and read the newspaper together before he headed out to the hospital.  Even after his wife’s death, Mrs. Hayes continued to put out two mugs.  This was the first time in two years that Erik would share his early morning cup of coffee with another person.  Holly was a late riser—something he’d been thankful for.

Erik poured a mug for Michelle and refilled his.  He opened the drawer of the cart, took out a spoon and set them on a tray.  “How do you like your coffee?” he asked.

“Just cream, thanks.”

He got the cream from the fridge, added it to the tray, and took it to the table.