Page 85 of Desperate Measures

Michaela’s midnight eyes flashed angrily, and just like that despair turned to hope.

She didn’t want to fucking divorce me. But somebody said something to make her think that was what I wanted.

“You’ve been preoccupied this week, with work, and I know some of that is my fault for getting in the way of yourobligations,” she said, and I noted the heat in her voice.

“And I am aware I said something that threw you off the last time we—the last time I saw you. What we had was a nice interlude, but it has run its course.”

“Goddamn it, Michaela. Do not finish what you’re about to say,” I warned.

“I-It was just physical. I-I got carried away in the heat of the moment. I said something I shouldn’t have said, and I am sorry for it. I didn’t mean it!”

I shook my head.

This brat.

She thought she could tell me she loved me then take it back like it was nothing?

“That’s the first time you ever lied to me, and it had better be the last, Wife,” I snarled, stalking her across the room.

Michaela squeaked, backing up and nearly tripping over an end table.

“I-I’m not lying. I d-don’t love you,” she whispered just as I caught her.

My hands flexed against her waist, and I dragged her to me.

“Stop it,” she said, halfheartedly.

“Stop what? Touching you? Absofuckinglutely not,” I moaned, pressing my face against her neck.

I wrapped my arms around her luscious body in that fucking dress that made me think dirty thoughts about my beautiful, sweet wife.

I wondered if I needed to crack anyone’s head in for looking at her too long in this outfit and figured I probably needed to.

But then, I breathed in her lilac scent, and the only violence on my mind was the storm of emotions batting against me. Christ, I loved her. Nuzzling her neck, I kissed her. Tasting her soft skin, I savored her with my lips and tongue.

I cherished this woman. She was precious to me, and as I nuzzled my way from her neck to her mouth, I showed her.

Michaela moaned against my lips. She whimpered, trying to wiggle out of my embrace, but I held her tighter, trapping her hands between us as I sipped ambrosia from her lips.

“You’re mine, remember? I am never letting you go,” I whispered, feeling grounded for the first time in days.

But Michaela didn’t smile the way I expected, instead her face crumpled, and tears streamed down her cheeks, she pushed against me.

“Let me go, Please let me go. You’re killing me,” she whispered, and I dropped my arms stunned.

She spun around, her shoulders hunched, and something horrible inside of me broke.

“Michaela,” I said, my voice cracking.

“It’s better this way. Just go. I’ll be fine,” she lied again.

And that horrible thing that was set free at the first tear that rolled down her cheek roared so loud it echoed in my skull.

“No. I’m not going,” I ground out, ignoring the wetness on my face.

“I’m going to call my father, and he’ll have you escorted off the property,” she whispered warned.

“Call him. Call everyone. I don’t fucking care. But you will listen to me, dammit! Michaela, I love you,” I said, shouting now.