Well, he was going to try not to, he reassured himself as his eyes rested on Michelle sitting where Cassie used to sit, her brown skin glowing under the richness of the russet cotton dress she’d changed into. Her obsidian eyes sparkled like black magic, daring him to reach out and taste the sweet essence of her soul. Erik tried to picture Cassie’s chestnut-brown eyes, but all he saw were those fiery, black eyes of an irresistible woman gazing back at him, inviting him to explore and revel.
Shaking off the bewitching invitation, Erik pushed back his chair and smiled at his daughter. “Hey, little one. Daddy has a surprise for you,” he said, deliberately interrupting their conversation about forever after. As far as he was concerned, fairytale endings were just that... fairytales that belonged in children’s books.
Precious jumped out of her chair and ran to him. “A surprise for me? What is it, Daddy?”#p#分页标题#e#
Erik closed his eyes as he hugged his little girl. God, he loved her so much. She was all he had left of Cassie, and he cherished her with everything good in himself. He pried Precious’ arms from around his neck and peered into her eyes—Cassie’s eyes. He planted a quick kiss on her forehead. “Go wash up and meet me back here,” he said, placing her on the floor.
She raced out of the room without so much as a backward glance, her long ponytails bouncing behind her like thick cords of rope.
Erik turned his attention to Michelle who’d left her chair and was now gazing out the bay window overlooking a rose garden. Habitually, his eyes swept the length of her. She had a good posture, he thought, and would carry a fetus well, but her narrow pelvis would make childbirth difficult, the astute physician in him noted with concern.
Since the moment he’d laid eyes on her, Erik could not stop thinking about Michelle’s body, and how it would look naked, especially her full perky breasts and the shape and color of her nipples. He wondered about the haven of delight between her thighs. What were her waxing preferences? American, French, or Brazilian? He knew what he liked. Would Michelle deliver or disappoint him? As his eyes took in the gentle curve of her long graceful neck, he wondered how her silky skin would feel against his lips. He could easily kiss her nape without having to trek through a thick mass of hair as he used to do with Cassie. Cassie.
At the thought of his wife, Erik took a deep breath and forced the pleasing yet dangerous musings about his daughter’s nanny out of his head. He took a moment to collect his thoughts then walked to the window to stand beside Michelle.
“They are beautiful,” he said, gazing at the array of red, yellow, white, and pink roses, all in full bloom. Cassie had put her sweat into that garden and after she died, he’d employed a gardener to tend the thorny bushes. They added a magnificent view from the dining table. He remembered the numerous compliments the spectacular scenery had generated from their guests over the years.
“You don’t look like the rosebush kind.”
Michelle’s voice interrupted his stroll down memory lane. She somehow had the uncanny ability to continually bring him back from his past. He chuckled softly. “They were Cassie’s, my late wife’s. She loved roses, especially the red ones, like her flaming hair. Red was her favorite color. You might have noticed that from the painting in my study.”
“How did she die? Was she sick?”
Erik tensed with dread and perplexity. Did she really not know? The news of Cassie’s death and the ongoing investigation to find her killer had made the headlines for months. He’d never met anyone who didn’t associate the name LaCrosse with that tragedy. Well, not until now.
He didn’t want to talk about it, but since Michelle was now an uninformed member of his household, the question would always be hanging over their heads. “She was killed by a drunk driver,” he said, wishing to put it to rest.
“I hope they caught the bastard.”
“Unfortunately, not yet.” Erik frowned at her use of the word ‘bastard’ and the disdain with which she said it.
“How could they not have found him yet?” she asked as if she had a personal stake in his loss. “Drunks aren’t that hard to find.” She crossed her arms and stared straight ahead.
Feeling the tension building around them, Erik ran his fingers through his hair. He seldom talked about that night. And he definitely never spoke about it with a stranger. But something about Michelle Carter made him want to open up his heart to her, tell her the whole truth. Maybe it’s because of the way she’d handled Precious earlier today. She seemed to have a gift to make people who were hurting feel better.#p#分页标题#e#