Page 2 of Desperate Desires

But I didn’t have to run interference with the Volkovs.

They knew how to handle themselves, and after meeting with Adrik just one time, my aunt had backed off.

I owed them for that. For protecting me from that insanely ambitious woman.

It didn’t matter that I was not a blood relative. Or that I was orphaned, or poor, or any of the things Aunt Agnes had tried to convince me they would use against me.

Micky and her family welcomed me into the fold right from the start. They were this big mish mash.

Enormous, rambunctious, and completely amazing.

It wasn’t just them, of course. The Volkovs were tight with some other pretty formidable families, people like Nick and Angel Fury, Josef Aziz, Luc Batiste, and Andres Ramirez.

They were all honorary uncles of my bestie, and through her, they’d become mine as well. Which was why every year I spent the holidays with them and not with stodgy old Aunt Agnes, whom I saw as rarely as possible.

Who could blame me?

The woman was about as warm as an iceberg. She’d never liked me, and the feeling was mutual. Even when my father and mother had been alive, we hardly ever saw or heard from his older sister.

But every year I sent her a card and a gift basket for the holidays with exotic fruit and cheeses, just like my good manners dictated I should. The gift was impersonal, dutiful, and I wished it bothered me more that I didn’t see her, that we had no relationship to speak of, but it didn’t. And I refused to take the blame for that.

I’d come a long way from the sad orphaned teenager I’d been when I was forced to live with my aunt.

It was the end of another year, and I should have felt ridiculously pleased with myself.

But it was also the anniversary of Mom and Dad’s passing, and my heart hurt with missing them.

I was right in the middle of the last year of my residency, sure, I had debt from med school, but still I should have been happy.

Only, everything wasn’t all rosy and pink. See, I’d worked hard to get where I was, but I just wasn’t sure I wanted to be a surgeon.

Self-doubt was not a friend of mine, and I hated feeling that way.

I groaned as I picked up the package Aunt Agnes’ personal assistant had undoubtedly picked out and sent me for the holidays.

It was a box of high-priced chocolates, as impersonal as the basket I’d sent her.

Very pretty.

But utterly useless since I couldn’t eat the stuff without getting an awful migraine.

I supposed I was feeling a sort of holiday burn out. It happened sometimes.

After all the merrymaking, I’d come down with a cold or flu and it took me a few days to get over it.

Something to do with all the people, the rich food, and the traveling back and forth.

Not to mention the memories, the yearnings, and the knowledge that even with my found family, I was still alone in the world.

Self-pity was not a good look on anyone, and I hated myself for giving in to that weakness.

You can do better, Shelly.

I could. I had before. But it was hard to think of doing better when there was no one to do it for, when there was only me to consider inside my tiny apartment.

Chapter 1-Shelly

I sighed and dropped Aunt Agnes’ gift on the side table by the front door.

---