The Doctor's Secret Bride (1) by Ana E. Ross

your life with me.”
    Michelle sighed deeply.  “Well, she died when I was born, so I can’t say I missed her, since I never had her.  I think what I missed was the idea of having a mother.  Knowing her touch, her voice, her smell, her laugh.”  Her voice cracked, and she sniffled, remembering the wonderful things Robert had told her about their mother.  He’d tried to describe her laugh, her touch, her voice to her, and at those moments, Michelle would close her eyes and just imagine.  “I never had those things,” she continued, “but my brother tried to bring her to life for me by telling me about her.  So, if I had suddenly lost my mother, like Precious lost hers, those are the things I would miss most.”
    “But you had your father.  He must have compensated in some big way.”
    Michelle wanted to laugh even though her heart was heavy.  Yeah, her father did compensate, but not in the way Erik thought.  She turned to his huge shadow, silhouetted against the darkness. “My father wasn’t there for me, Erik.  He was too busy feeling sorry for himself after my mother died.  He forgot about the two little children who needed him.”
    “That’s why you got so angry with me for neglecting Precious.”
    “I know how she feels,” Michelle stated softly.  “The agony of losing one parent is bad enough, but when you have one who just ignores you—now, that’s a killer.  Soon you stop trusting or believing in anybody and you just lock yourself away inside you where it’s safe.”
    “Is that what happened to you, Michelle?  You stopped trusting?”  His voice was gentle, probing.
    Michelle uttered a dry laugh and wrapped her arms around her stomach.   She wished she’d stopped trusting, believing.  If she had, she would not be sitting on Erik LaCrosse’s patio. She would be in Manchester, living the life she’d planned for herself, not the one someone else’s destructive behavior had forced on her, but then again, she would not have met Erik.
    “No.”  She shook her head.  “I’m the anomaly, Erik.  I’m always looking for the good in folks, hoping for the best, but I keep getting hurt.  That’s why I volunteer at the youth center.  I know how those kids feel.”
    He leaned forward.  Closer.  “Who hurt you, Michelle?”  His voice was low, husky.
    Stirred by the tenderness in his voice, Michelle opened her mouth to lay her heart at his feet, but the fragile moment was broken by the sound of the phone ringing in the kitchen.
    He swore softly as he got up to answer it.  “Don’t go anywhere.  I’ll be right back.”
    Michelle’s heart hammered as she watched him walk into the kitchen and turn on the light.  He left the sliders open, so she heard him say, “Hello,” then chuckle at the response on the other line.   But when he said, “Of course not, Bridget.  I’m never too busy for you,” a wave of jealousy ripped through Michelle.
    Who the heck was Bridget ?  He had asked her if there was a man in her life—a legitimate question since the former nanny had married and left his daughter high and dry.  It wasn’t her place to question him about any relationship with a woman.  Even though he came home for dinner every evening, and locked himself away in his study every night, she’d suspected he might have someone to turn to in his hour of masculine need.  She’d assumed he kept them away from the house so as not to confuse his daughter who still wasn’t over the death of her mother.
    Men needed sex to survive.  She’d heard that constantly from the few she’d dated over the years.  She’d never felt compelled to give them any, so they’d quietly and solemnly faded away.  She’d tried so hard not to think of Erik with another woman, especially since she knew what it was like to be in his arms, to kiss him, feel his hot hard body pressed up against hers.  As long as she didn’t see him with a woman, or hear him talk of one, she’d told herself that