Page 64 of Desperate Desires

So now, I had no choice. I was going to do something about it.

First things first, make Michelle my wife.

See, wives, children—these were off limits in the world I grew up in. If the guys behind this shit followed the rules, then she would be fine.

Not that I’d be lazy about her protection.

I wouldn’t be.

She meant too much. And having her take my name, live with me, sleep with me day in and day out—that was all a fucking bonus.

I tapped my fingers against my leg and Michelle turned her head towards me as we neared the private airport where I had a plane fueled up and waiting.

“Where are we going?”

“We have to leave for a few days to be safe,” I murmured, taking her hand and relishing the fact she didn’t pull away.

“Ono, I just can't leave. I have patients, responsibilities,” she began.

“I told you, I worked it out with your boss,” I said, frowning at the worry I saw in her luminous brown eyes.

“I know you said that, and I am trying to understand all this, but you can't just do that. You can't just take over someone's life,” she said.

“Michelle, I'm not taking over your life. I'm trying to make sure you have one,” I told her, meaning every word.

“What? But why would anyone be after me?”

Her question was innocent enough, and it hurt to think I was the one who’d done this to her. But I couldn’t give her up. I knew I’d never get her out of my system, and I didn’t even want to try.

I should walk away. Drive her to Adrik Volkov’s house. Tell him to protect her.

But I couldn’t let her go, and I wouldn’t leave her in some other man’s care.

Not now.

Not ever.

Michelle was mine.

I knew it was fucked up. People didn’t just belong to people, did they?

Maybe it wasn’t the norm, but me and her? We were made for each other. We were like twin flames burning against the darkness.

Yeah. That feels right.

I belonged to her just as much as she belonged to me.

Of course, I wasn’t a fucking idiot.

She was a doctor. An intellectual. A trained professional. I couldn’t just hit her over the head with this shit.

No. Telling Michelle I was fucking obsessed with her was probably not a good idea.

So, I tried something else instead. I tried appealing to her belief in accountability.

“They’re after you because of me. This is my fault. I put you in this situation and now it’s my job to protect you. These men are killers, Doc. And I could never let anything happen to you. I won’t,” I whispered the last.

“Okay. I understand you feel responsible. But you said you had to make me your wife. You don’t have to do that. There has to be another way,” she said, her impossibly dark eyes burning with questions.

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