Page 82 of The Marriage Auction 2: Part 3

“Kind,” she countered while playfully smacking my chest.

I brought her into my arms for a big bear hug. “I know you do. If I could make Abraham see reason, I’d do it in a heartbeat.”

She shook her head. “He is who he is.”

“People can change.” I wanted to give a man I didn’t know, who didn’t like me, a shard of a chance with his only child.

“Not him. He comes from a different stock. He will be angry I’m getting married without him. See it as a personal slight when it has nothing to do with him and everything to do with us.”

“He’ll survive. It’s not his life.”

“I don’t know, something tells me he isn’t going to leave this alone. My father has never lost a battle a day in his life. I’m worried about what he’ll try next.”

“Maybe I could talk to him again. Man to man?”

“I wish I could tell you that it would make a difference.” She yawned. “I’m so tired. How about a quickie before bed?”

My manhood rose to the suggestion, but I ignored it. “How about I put on a cheesy romantic movie, you and I get in bed, cuddle up, and relax until we both fall asleep.”

“That sounds like heaven. Except you forgot one thing.”

I interlaced our fingers. “Popcorn?”

“That…and the quickie.”

I burst into uncontrollable laugher. “My woman has a one-track mind!”

“Yeah, so what are you going to do about it?” she taunted.

“I’m going to give her what she wants,” I lifted her up and tossed her onto the bed before Supermanning it right on topof her, bracing my weight on both sides so I didn’t crush her completely.

“Good answer!” she squealed with delight.

Episode 82

Forgive Me

MADAM ALANA

The ride to the hospital passed in a blur. My mind was switching between worry over Christophe and the bullet wound he’d suffered, and the information Angus had shared during my captivity. When we arrived at the hospital, we were ushered directly into a private room. A host of officers were stationed outside of the room while a pair of detectives followed us and the doctor inside.

“Glad to see you came back, Mr. Toussaint. I was worried when you received that call and left mid-stitch,” a blonde doctor with big doe eyes tutted. She then walked over to a standing metal tray on wheels and dragged it over to the side of the bed. The tray had a myriad of medical supplies on it.

One of the detectives shifted out of the way as she pushed the tray closer in the rather confined space. She then frowned, looking at them pointedly. “Couldn’t your interview wait until my patient is patched up?” she asked.

I stood behind Christophe with one of my hands on his healthy shoulder.

Detective Moreau frowned. “I apologize for the inconvenience, but time is of the essence. We don’t want this criminal to get any farther away than he already has.”

“Fine, just stay there.” She pointed to the opposite wall from where Christophe sat. “Now let’s see how much additional damage you did to yourself, Mr. Toussaint.”

“I’m sorry. I had to get to my wife. Nothing could have stopped me.”

I bent forward and placed a kiss on the back of his neck. “I’m okay,chéri,” I whispered against his skin.

He inhaled sharply. I knew he had been as stressed as I was, not knowing if the other was safe. Seeing him get shot was something I’ll never forget. All I wanted to do was get him the medical attention he needed and then go home and lie in our bed in the comfort of his embrace. I wanted my body to be pressed from toe to nose to my husband so I could let all of what had occurred today drift away. Emotionally my mind was a vortex of turbulent feelings. Physically, I was drained beyond compare.

The doctor proceeded to cut the soiled bandage off his arm. Christophe hissed in pain, making my heart clench at his discomfort. She tsked as though she was dealing with a petulant child, while the detectives started in on their interview.

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