“It was my first year in my new practice as a plastic surgeon, and I felt like I could change the world. I was a couple of months in when I met Mary Sinclair. She’d been in a horrible car accident that left her face badly scarred. She wanted me to fix her, to make her beautiful again, and because she reminded me of Rachel so much, I agreed to the surgery.”
Her face flashed before my eyes, and I smiled at how beautiful she was after the surgery.
“When I was finished with her, she was like a brand-new woman, and she was so happy. It made me happy to know she wouldn’t end up like Rachel and that I had given that to her. But then, it didn’t seem to be enough for her.
“She kept coming back for more surgeries, things I didn’t exactly think she needed, but Dr. Stein argued it wasn’t my place to decide that for the patients. So I continued to do surgery after surgery until she was no longer flesh and bone.”
I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, remembering how terrible her skin had looked. She was pulled so tightly that her skin looked ready to pop. I hated myself for doing that to her. I hated everything about my job when it came to her.
“After a while, I started to refuse her calls, I stopped booking appointments with her, and eventually, she got the point. She was addicted to it, and I guess I thought if I wouldn’t do the surgeries anymore, she would stop having them done. Two weeks later, I received a call from another plastic surgeon who was requesting her files.
“I told him all about her, her addiction, and how I felt she was suffering from depression and who knew what else. He assured me he had it handled and that neither of us were a psychiatrist. Neither of us were in the position to post a diagnoses of depression on her head. He hung up, and I let it go.
“A month later, I saw her on the news. I remembered the journalist going on and on about the dangers of plastic surgery. The title of the news spot was Plastic Surgery Gone Wrong.
“They posted pictures of how terrible she looked after each surgery I’d done, and I hated myself for letting it go as far as it did.
“She died a month later,” I said as hurt crushed my chest. “I’d killed her. Not technically, but it was on my file. I’d made her what she was. I was her dealer for so long.”
It angered me. I was angry with her, with the other surgeon, but mostly with myself, for not doing more for Mary or Rachel. It was then that I realized what my father had been doing all those years ago with my sister, and if I had realized it sooner, I could have saved Mary, maybe even Rachel.
They didn’t need surgery to make them beautiful—they need self-esteem. They needed someone to show them how beautiful they were, not just tell them. They needed everything society didn’t give them.
“I vowed never to do unnecessary surgery on a person again. I switched to reconstructive surgery and worked hard on shaping the people I deal with every day to love themselves and see past what’s on the outside. In the end, the people who matter will remember them by how big their heart is and not how they looked.”
I felt like I’d been talking for an eternity when I finally looked up at Samantha. She was watching me closely with understanding eyes. She wasn’t judging me for all my flaws. She understood.
“That’s why you wouldn’t do the surgery for me,” she whispered.
I nodded. “I wasn’t going to make the same mistake with you. You were so fragile the first time I met you and yes, I was angry with you, but deep down, I was angry at the reason that made you even feel the need to be there.”
I cupped her soft cheeks in my palms, my fingers getting lost in her hair.
“When I saw you that night at the party, you looked like the weight of the world was on your shoulders, and it killed me. And if I’m confessing all my truths right now, it’s important that you know you changed me too, Samantha. I don’t know how I lived without knowing you.”
She leaned up, wrapping her arms around my neck and kissing me as if her life depended on it.
“We changed each other, Roman,” she whispered against my lips.
I buried my face in her hair and breathed her in, letting her sink into my soul. “I hate that you had to find out from Michael. I should have told you earlier.”
“It doesn’t matter. You told me now, and I never believed anything Michael had said. You’re not a murderer.”
Pulling back, she took my face in her hands. “I love you so much, Roman. I never knew love like this was possible until I met you. I loved Michael—I did—but not like this. Never like this.”
“I detest Michael for what he did to you. I hate him with a bloody passion, but I guess I should thank him. He pushed you away and sent you to me.”
She laughed, unleashing kisses all over my face. “I love you, Roman.”
“I love you more, Samantha.”
HOURS LATER, WE were back in the bedroom, but this time, we just held each other. Samantha was snuggled against my chest, and my arm was wrapped tightly around her.
“Have you spoken to your father?” she asked in the dark.
“No. Not in a long time.”
“Do you forgive him?”
“Yes. I suppose I do.”
“You should tell him. I’m sure he’d love to hear that. Nothing is promised, Roman, and you’re the only person he has left. I think you both could use each other.”
I pulled her tighter against me, letting her words and my love for her fill me. Leaning down, I placed a soft kiss on her hair.
“You make me a better man, Samantha.”
And then we finally slept.
THE NEXT TWO weeks flew by faster than I liked. I’d lost myself so completely in her that I began to forget what day it was. When it was time to rejoin the outside world, I cursed my career.
Samantha helped me dress on my first day back to work, tying my tie and kissing me on every exposed piece of my flesh. Needless to say, I was almost late to my first appointment.
I went to work and resumed life as usual, while Samantha searched for an apartment of her own and a lawyer who wasn’t intimidated by her husband. Apparently, Michael was a shark in the courtroom, and no one was willing to go up against him.
I practically begged her to stay with me and forget about the apartment hunt, but she was convinced she needed her own space. She said she could never be good enough for me until she knew how to stand on her own. I understood, I really did, but the selfish parts of me couldn’t even fathom sleeping in my bed without her again.
We took turns doing everything—cooking and cleaning. As completely terrible as it sounded, I loved coming home and finding Samantha in my kitchen wearing nothing by one of my T-shirts. I found it hard to eat anything she cooked since there was nothing more delicious than her.
Then we’d spend the night pleasuring each other. I would never get tired of hearing the sweet, tortuous sounds that flowed from Samantha’s lips while I was inside her. I would never get tired of the feel of her—the way she whispered my name as she came all over me. She was mine and every night and every morning, I was going to remind her until she never had to doubt my love, my want, or my need for her.
AFTER ROMAN’S DARK confessions, he was lighter. Even though I couldn’t see how he could consider himself a murderer, I understood his guilt. Things about the way he handled his career became clearer.
I was worried about the backlash of Michael’s appearance in New York, but apparently, there were none. There was a meeting of colleagues, and Roman still received his award of excellence. He acted as if it was no big deal, but I could see in his smile that he was proud of his accomplishments. I was proud of him, too. Of the man he was and the care he took with each of his patient’s. It was truly beautiful.
It was Sunday, and Roman had the day off. We made plans to go out, but the morning had taken a different turn and instead of taking a quick shower to get ready, Roman had decided to get in with me.
My cries and his growls echoed through the large bathroom as he pounded into me as if his life depended on it.
I worried the glass door would crack as he took me over the edge with his hands, his mouth, and his length that filled me over and over again until I was sure I’d break.
We crawled out of the shower a half an hour later with heavy breaths and impenetrable smiles. Wrapped in a towel, I stood and watched as he dressed. I loved the way his muscles flexed, how his olive-colored skin glowed in the bathroom lights. He was mine, and I was quite possibly the luckiest woman in the world.
Coming over to me, he kissed me quickly with a wet smack. “Meet me in the kitchen and I’ll make you breakfast,” he said with a wink.
With my hands on my hips, I gave him a look. Being naked around Roman was something I was becoming to love. What woman wouldn’t love turning on the man she loved every time he looked at her?
“You’re spoiling me, Dr. Blake,” I said, wrapping my arms around him and enjoying the feel of my hardening nipples against my towel.
Lowering his head, he nuzzled my neck and breathed me in. “You haven’t seen the half of it, love. I’m going to spend the rest of my life giving you everything you didn’t have before you met me.”
He claimed my lips and gave my bare behind a playful smack. Squirming and laughing under his grabbing hands, I wiggled free.
“Get dressed, woman. You tempt me so.”
“Yes, Dr. Blake.”
I smiled sweetly and he moaned in anguish on his way out. My chest was exploding with happiness, and I couldn’t remember ever feeling this content. I was totally and completely happy. Nothing was missing from my life, and I never wanted that feeling to go away.
Picking up Roman’s dress shirt he had worn the day before, I brought it up to my nose and breathed in his scent. He smelled amazing, and I wanted to wrap myself in him.
Pulling on the shirt and buttoning it up halfway, I didn’t bother to put on anything else. I made my way into the kitchen and took complete satisfaction in the way Roman’s jaw dropped.
“Are you trying to kill me, Samantha?” he asked, reaching down and palming the hardness that was growing in his pants.
“Why, Dr. Blake, whatever do you mean?” I playfully batted my eyelashes.
“You know bloody hell exactly what I mean.” He growled sexily. “Dressed like that, you’re going make me burn down the bloody kitchen.”
I giggled as his accent got thicker and deeper, making my way toward him. Wrapping my arms around his neck, he kissed me, holding the spatula at his side.
“Do you want me to burn the kitchen down, love?” he asked, suckling the skin beneath my ear.
I bit into my bottom lip, enjoying the heated tingles that moved into my core. I couldn’t get enough of him. “If it meant dying in your arms, then yes, I’d burn with you, Roman.”
Dropping the spatula to the counter, he ran his hands up the outsides of my bare thighs and pushed me up against the sink. The edge of the counter pressed into my back, but Roman managed to bring me pleasure rather than pain.
He reached behind himself and pressed a button, turning off the stove, and then he slipped his hands under the hem of the shirt I was wearing and swept this thumbs across my hipbones, pressing firmly.
Moaning, I dropped my head back and his lips were quick to cover the side of my neck, biting softly. “Roman…” I panted.
“I’m going to need that shirt back now, love.”
His fingertips pressed into my ass cheeks, and he lifted me and planted me firmly on the counter. I wasted no time unbuttoning the remaining buttons.
“Allow me.” His hands pushed mine aside, but instead of going for the next button, he pulled the shirt open.
I let out a surprised gasp as buttons flew around the kitchen floor. He pushed it aside, and his eyes turned smoky with desire as they moved down my naked body.
“God, you’re beautiful, Samantha. Have I told you that today?”
“At least twenty times since we woke up.” I smiled.
“That’s all?”
“Roman?”
“Yes, love?”
“I need your mouth on me.”
He smiled and pulled me toward him. “With pleasure, love.”
His lips closed around my nipple, and the smooth edges of his teeth nipped softly. I cried out and my fingers gripped his hair, pulling him closer to me. He repeated the caress, and I nearly lost myself on the kitchen counter.
His mouth trailed kisses to my other nipple, biting, pulling, and sucking all at once… when the sound of the doorbell went off. Duke growled from the couch and both of us froze, hoping if we didn’t move or make a sound whoever it was on the other side of the door would go away.
Unfortunately, the person was persistent and the doorbell went off again. This time, Duke barked loudly and ran for the door.
Roman groaned and leaned his forehead onto my chest. “Don’t move a muscle,” he rumbled, kissing the spot between my breasts.
I smiled as he adjusted his jeans and grabbed a shirt off the chair on his way toward the door. After pulling it into place, he pulled open the front door. My smile faded as Roman stiffened, pulling the door close to his side so no one could see in.
I was instantly on guard as I pulled Roman’s shirt closed and hopped off the counter. Whoever was on the other side of the door had changed Roman. His spine was straight, his jaw so tense the muscles ticked.
Walking toward the living room, I grabbed my discarded jeans and bent over to pull them on. My head snapped up hearing a familiar voice halfway through pulling on my pants, and my heart tripped on itself. I couldn’t move.
“I know she’s in there!”
Michael.
His voice was a mix of anger, frustration, and desperation. I didn’t know how he knew I was here or where Roman lived, but that didn’t really matter now.
“You need to leave, Michael.” Roman’s voice was hard and deadly. I’d never heard him sound like that, and I didn’t like it.
“I just need to talk to her. She’s my wife, damn it!”
“When and if she wants to talk to you, she’ll let you know. Until then, leave us alone.”
“Us? She’s mine, you son of a…”
“Enough, Michael!” I yelled, coming to stand next to Roman.
I hugged my stomach, keeping Roman’s shirt tightly closed, and tried to hold myself together. I would listen to what Michael had to say because I knew he wouldn’t leave Roman or me alone until I did, and then I’d send him on his way.
“It’s okay, Roman,” I told him softly, running my fingers over his hand.
He looked down at me, worry darkening his eyes, and I hated that he was a part of such a horrible situation.
I wanted to touch his face, kiss away the tightness from around his mouth, but I wanted to deal with Michael first.
Turning on Michael, I glared. I wasn’t going to give him any more than I already had. “You have ten minutes and that’s way more than you deserve,” I said sternly.
Giving a reassuring smile to Roman, I moved past Michael into the hallway and waited for him to join me. I wasn’t going to ask Roman to shut the door or leave us alone, I didn’t have to; he had already stepped away. I wasn’t sure how far he had gone, but it didn’t matter.
“So you’re with him now?”
“Not that it’s any of your business, but yes, I am. I said you have ten minutes, Michael, and I meant it. Are you going to use them to talk about my relationship with Roman?”
“You’re my wife, Samantha,” he growled. The sadness in his eyes burned.
“I haven’t been your wife in a really long time, Michael, but if you mean in a technical sense, then yes, I still am. You’ll receive your papers soon enough, and I don’t want a damn thing from you.”
As if seeing him for the first time, I realized if I had passed him on the street, I wouldn’t have recognized him at all. His hair wasn’t slicked back and his normal suit attire was gone. In its place was a wrinkled shirt, dirty jeans, and a dark blue jacket.
It had been a long time since I’d
seen Michael look like the man I had fallen in love with. It was a bittersweet feeling, but knowing Roman waited for me on the other side only confirmed that I was done living in the past. Roman was my future now.
Michael took a deep breath and when he spoke, it was another unfamiliar blow. “I want you back, Sam.”
He sounded rundown. “These last few weeks have been a nightmare without you. You’re mine, and knowing you’re here with him makes me sick to my stomach.”
He took a step closer to me, and I took one step back. I hadn’t expected this side of Michael to come out. I could handle his dominance and cruelty, but this? This was something different.
“I need you back, Samantha. I’m nothing without you. I just wish it hadn’t taken me this long to realize how much I love you. I’ve been such an idiot, Sam. I took you for granted. I hurt you, and destroyed you. I’ve given you no reason to take me back or love me again, but if you did, I promise you I would spend the rest of our lives loving you the way you deserve to be loved.”
He took a hesitant step closer, and I was too dazed to move away from him this time. His hands were balmy as he took mine in his, holding on firmly. I looked down at our hands and then back up at him. He was pleading with me to hear him and I was, but as much as I had wanted to hear all of this from him… it was too late.
“Michael…” I was going to tell him exactly that, but he interrupted me, taking a step closer to me.
“Don’t say no. Please,” he begged. “Just think about it. Take as long as you need. Just don’t say no right now.”
His fingers were gripping mine and when he realized that, he let go quickly.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I never started out to hurt you, Sam. I swear to you I didn’t.”
He took a step back, and I instantly felt like I could breathe again. He smiled and again, he looked like the boy I’d fallen in love with a long time ago. It was nice to know he hadn’t completely lost that person.
“I’ll wait to hear from you, Sam. I won’t barge in on you like this again.”
The Procedure Page 18