The Surgeon’s Secrets: A Bad Boy Billionaire Romance

by Michelle Love

  “I don’t want to start from ground zero with anyone new. I’ve already lost so much. I can’t stand to be around people. I can’t stand to be alone but I am always alone. Nothing makes me happy. No one makes me happy. I can’t start over, Doc. I just need your help to break through this barrier inside of myself. I’ve pushed everyone away. Help me,” I plead with the man.

  “It’s there, within you, Tasha. You say constantly that you forgive your father for what he did to you.”

  I stop him. “Because I do.”

  “You don’t,” he says, simply. “How could you? He took your world away from you. You had to go into rehab for six months to let your body recuperate from the addiction it had to those sedatives. You lost the man you love because you were drinking heavily to take the place of the sedatives. That is one person’s fault. And it’s not yours. So, blame who is responsible instead of holding it all in and lying to yourself about forgiveness you do not have for the one who caused all of that.”

  “It does no good to blame others for your own problems,” I say. “I’ve been told that all of my life.”

  “By the man who did this to you, Tasha. Come to grips with it. Your father changed you and your life. You were able to blame James Hawthorne for his part in your emotional upheaval. You accepted the settlement that made you a wealthy woman. You testified against him in court and faced your demon head one where that man is concerned. Now it’s time to face your father and let him know he hurt you and you want an apology. You want retribution for what he did to you. You got it from Hawthorne, now get it from your father.”

  “I can’t do that,” I tell him for the hundredth or so time. He wants me to do a thing that’s impossible.

  “Until you do, then you will continue to stay stagnant. Not growing, not moving on with life. You’ve managed to conquer the alcohol that controlled you. You’ve managed to live life on your own terms as you refused to allow anyone to control any of your actions. And how’s that working out for you?” he asks with a grin. “How do you like making all of your own decisions? All of your own plans without anyone’s interference? No one tells you what to do at all. How does that feel?”

  I’d love nothing more than to tell the man it feels wonderful but I’d be lying and he’d know that. “It’s terrible. Yes, I can make my own plans. You know what they are, day after day? What shows to watch on television. What books to read alone when I get to bed. No one tells me a thing. No one tells me they love me. No one asks for my kisses. No one says a thing to me or tells me to do anything because I walked away.”

  The tears start flowing as they always do when I remind myself that I got exactly what I told Nic I wanted. I got a life with no one dominating me. Somewhere along the way, I got it in my head that everything he said or did was some type of domination. It got so bad that when he asked me to change the channel of the show I wasn’t even watching as I was also reading a book, I threw the remote at him and had a screaming fit that he was trying to control me and I left his home that very night.

  He watched me pack my things and leave his home. He never said a word. He didn’t tell me to stop. He didn’t tell me to stay. He just watched me leave. He let me leave him.

  I suppose he was sick of me. Sick of my drinking. Sick of my constant quick temper when I even remotely thought he was bossing me around.

  I blew it and I know it was all me who did that.

  “He came in today. He had a session a few hours before yours. I always make sure to keep your appointments far apart so you two don’t run into one another here,” he tells me, making my heart ache.

  “How is he?” I ask as I wipe the tears away with the tissue I always have at the ready when I come to see the psychiatrist Nic still pays for me to see.

  “He’s okay. He’s sad. His life hasn’t turned out the way he wanted it to. He asks about you every time he comes. He wanted me to relay a message to you. Would you like to hear it or not? It’s up to you,” he asks me.

  “No, don’t tell me anything. He’s the past. I’m not looking at the past,” I say as I set my mind. I have to move forward.

  “If you never look in your past then you will never learn from it and be able to be the person you can be. I’m not asking you to forget you father by making it known you find him responsible for what happened to you. I am telling you when you admit that to yourself and tell him what you think then you will feel a weight lift off your shoulders. Only then will you be able to deal with life on terms you can live with.”

  “So, tell my father and myself he’s the reason my life went to hell in a handbasket?” I nod. “I can try, right?”

  “That’s all you can do, is try,” he tells me and puts his pad of paper and pen away. “Session is over for this week. See you next week.”

  I nod and give my eyes a final wipe then get up and leave his office. Taking a deep breath, I walk to the elevator and get in it. It’s full of people and I always find myself having trouble breathing in the crowds.

  New York has crowds everywhere you go and I should really move. But my work is easier here. I work from home as a consultant. I finished my degree online. I do freelance consulting from home. Occasionally, I do have to meet people and it’s easier to meet in this big city than anywhere else.

  With the money from the settlement from James’ family, I don’t have to work at all. But it gives me something to do besides hide in a book or movie to forget about my real life.

  As I step out of the elevator, I hear a familiar voice. “I think I left my sunglasses up there. Can you call up and ask him?”

  I freeze in place as I know it’s Nic. It’s been months since I’ve set eyes on him. Looking straight down at the floor, I make my way to the door. Each step gets me that much closer to not having the agony fill me that surely will if I see him. Then a chill rips through my body as a hand touches the small of my back. “Natasha, hello.”

  My chest fills with sobs that beg to be released. My heart pounds with joy as my body has begged for me to go back to the man it loves. It’s my mind that refuses to believe it. It’s my mind that holds me back.

  I can’t speak as he ushers me out the door with him. Through cloudy, tear-filled eyes, I see the shadow of a black car and he has me in the back seat before I know what’s happening.

  His arms go around me and I let it all out in the privacy of the car. I cry and moan as my hands run up his arms, over his biceps where they loved to rest when he held his body over mine.

  His hands stroke my back as he shushes me. “It’s okay, princess.”

  It’s anything but okay and he knows that. He knows it as well as I do. I am a shell of who I was and neither of us can stand who I’ve become. I press my hands to his chest. “Don’t. This just makes things harder, Nic. Let me out of the car.”

  “I’m not about to set you out on the sidewalk with tears streaming down your face,” he says as he continues to hold me tight.

  I break down again as it’s so damn good to hear him boss me around. Telling me how he’s going to take care of me even when I’m trying to make self-sabotaging choices for myself.

  Running my arms around him, I hold him too. “I love you,” I say in a whisper.

  “I know you do,” he says then kisses the top of my head. “I love you too.”

  Suddenly it becomes clear what I have to do. I have to get better. I have to follow the doctor’s orders and I have to confront my father. This is ridiculous what I’m doing to us both. “Can you take me to see my father? I have something I need to tell him.”

  “Is he here, in New York?” he asks as he pushes me back so he can look at me.

  I nod and already hate myself for feeling the need to curl back into his wide chest and pull from his body what only it can give me. Peace, hope, and the feeling of absolute safety.

  “Right now or later?” he asks.

  “I think now is best.” I hand him my phone. “Can you call him and see if he’s available for me?”

  He takes it
and finds my father’s number. “Hi, Greenwell. This is Nicholai Grimm. I have Natasha with me and she wants to talk to you. I don’t suppose you can make yourself available to her soon, can you?”

  I hear my father say on the other end of the line, “I’m at my friend’s place. Let me see about meeting her for lunch.”

  With a shake of my head, I say, “I can’t do it in public.”

  “How about you come to my place. She’d like to talk with you in private,” Nic tells him.

  “Text me the address and I’ll be there shortly,” Dad says. “Why are you calling me from her phone? Why can’t she do it?”

  “Because she asked me to do it and I always do anything she asks of me. See you soon,” Nic says then hands me my phone back. “Did you get my message I told the doctor to give you?”

  “I told him not to tell me.”

  “Why?” he asks as he lifts my chin.

  “Because it hurts too much to think about you,” I say then bite my lip.

  “Maybe that’s because you love me and want to be with me but that stubborn brain of yours is getting in our way.” He smiles to lessen the blow.

  “I know it is. I can see that now. I mean, I knew it was, but now I can really see it. I need to resolve things with my father. I’ve been hiding that inside of me. Hiding the fact he was the one who did this to me. Even James wouldn’t have been able to get to me if I hadn’t been in that weakened condition.”

  He nods, letting me know this is my decision and he will leave me to it. It’s not his usual way. He’s often told me I needed to fight with whoever I had an issue with instead of him. I took out too much on Nic. I can see it now, in hindsight.

  I just hope talking to my father works the way the doc said it would. I can’t take life this way any longer. Something has to change!

  NICHOLAI

  Natasha sits in a chair near the Christmas tree by the window. The red and green lights bounce off her golden hair and make my heart hurt that it’s been so long since I’ve last laid my eyes on her sweet face.

  My poor Natasha has been in mental hell since she came back to New York. Her stay with me didn’t last long as she became aggravated by everything I did or said. Hell, even my breathing made her angry.

  When she packed up one night after me asking her to change the channel on the television, I let her go. I didn’t know what else to do for her. Nothing I was doing was working. She was hiding the fact she was drinking heavily. Not well, mind you. I knew she was drunk only she’d never admit to drinking anything.

  Even when I retrieved empty bottles from the bathroom trash, a place she assumed I’d never go looking for anything, she’d deny it was her. She’d blame the staff.

  I emptied out the bar so she’d have nothing to drink. But she had bottles delivered to her while I was at work. She had no idea the front desk told me about it.

  Thankfully, her moving out had her deciding to seek professional help and she checked herself into rehab for a while. I haven’t seen her since she left me that night, almost a year ago.

  I’d told our psychiatrist to give her a message. I wanted her to join me for Christmas. I’d heard from her mother and father that she’d cut them out too. She wanted to be alone, her mother told me.

  I had no choice but to respect her wishes as she learned how to throw a hellacious fit when she thought I was trying to control her or boss her around about anything.

  But now she’s sitting here, in my living room, waiting for her father to come and talk to her. I’ve known for some time that her problem was with him more so than anyone else. She’d argue that he was only trying to protect her. He was being a father to her and I just didn’t understand.

  I do understand, though. I have my own issues with the man. While I may see why he did what he did, I have never agreed with his actions. Natasha, on the other hand, has said, over and over again, that she forgives him and has from the very start.

  “Tea, Natasha?” I ask as she looks out the window.

  “That would be nice,” she says and gets up to push the curtain to the side. “The view is so gorgeous up here.”

  The bar has been restocked since she left but I have some tea brewing at it. I’m not sure she’s supposed to drink anymore. “How is the view in your new place?”

  “I don’t know. The windows have dark curtains on them,” she says, making me think she’s been holing herself up with only the television and books as her company.

  “The message I wanted to get to you was about coming for Christmas. Father will be busy with his new girlfriend and her kids this year. Mother is off to Spain with her new beau. And I will be utterly alone if you deny me your company, my princess.”

  Her hand moving down my arm makes my insides quiver with need. “Why would you still call me your princess, Nic? I’ve been terrible to you.”

  Turning to her, I run the back of my hand over her cheek. “You haven’t been you, Natasha. You will always be my princess. I know we’ve never made any marriage vows but I do take you for better or worse.”

  “And all I’ve given you is worse,” she says with a sadness to her blue eyes that I hate to see.

  “Not true,” I say and take her cup of tea in one hand, her hand in the other and take her to sit on the sofa where I sit next to her. Her collar is askew and I fix it for her then leave a kiss on her cheek. “So, about Christmas?”

  “Maybe,” she says. “I’ll have to see if this helps me.”

  “What? Talking to your father?” I ask as I pick the tea up and blow over the surface, making the steam swirl.

  She nods and takes the cup from me. “Is it ready to drink?”

  “I think so,” I tell her. “You might want to test it with your pinky first to be sure it suits you.”

  She does and I find myself overjoyed that she didn’t have a shit-fit about me telling her what she might like to do. As a matter of fact, her asking me anything is a major change.

  “If you decide to come for the holiday, I’ll come and get you. I’ll have the cook make us up anything you want for dinner. Anything at all. Lobster? Turkey?” I ask as I watch her set the cup back down and smile.

  It’s been so long since I’ve seen her smile. “Pot roast would be great.”

  “That sounds like a yes to my invitation,” I say then smile back at her.

  “Get her to make the pot roast and I’ll think about it,” she says. “Will there be a sleepover that night?”

  I stop breathing as she brings that up. It’s been a damn long time since I’ve touched her. A damn long time. Over two years. It’s been over two years since I’ve had sex at all.

  Her words have my hormones unsteady. They want to go crazy but they know it might not happen. She’s been back and forth with me in that department.

  We’d get so close then I’d do something to make her mad and off she’d go to the other room to sleep. I measure my words as I say, “I am always available to you. You know that.”

  She nods and looks away. “It’s been me who has been unavailable to you. Tell me, Nic, have you had anyone else since me?”

  “No,” comes my quick answer. “I have no want for anyone else.”

  “Not even with me leaving you?” she asks as she continues to look away. “Not even with the pretty Doctor Sandra?”

  “No. No one at all. My heart is yours. I assume it always will be,” I tell her and draw her face to mine.

  One sweet kiss I leave on her plump lips. She’s regained her healthy weight and she looks incredible again. Our mouths move together, tongues entwine, saying hello and how they’ve missed one another.

  Her body melts into mine and then the doorbell rings. Reluctantly, I end the kiss with a few smaller ones to tell her I enjoyed it. “Your father.”

  I get up and go to answer the door as I’ve given the staff the day off to do their Christmas errands. “Greenwell,” I say as I open the door.

  “Grimm. Where is she?” he says as he takes a step inside.

&nb
sp; I turn around and gesture to the sofa but she isn’t there. “Well, she was right there. Let me see if she went to the bathroom. Have a seat.”

  Making my way to the bathroom, I hear her crying inside of it. I tap at the door. “May I come in?”

  “Leave me alone, Nic. I can’t do it. I can’t face him and tell him what I would have to. I can’t!”

  I find the door unlocked and go inside anyway. Taking her by the shoulders, I hold her steady. “I know I’m risking a tongue lashing but I’ll risk it for you. You need to do whatever it is you were planning on doing. I am here for you. If you want me in the room or at your side or if you want me to leave, I will do anything you want. But you need to do this. If it’s making you cry, then you must face it and get on with things. Fear is to be faced or it’s never overcome. Now let me dry your tears and let’s get on with this.”

  She gulps back her cries and lets me wipe her tears away. “Why do I let myself do without you?”

  “Ask yourself that question. I have no idea. I think I’m fantastic,” I say then smile at her. With a light pat on her ass, I send her out of the confines of the bathroom. “Where do you want me, my princess?”

  “At me side, please. I’m becoming more and more aware that I should never have left your side at all. You are my champion, my hero.”

  I try hard not to allow myself to have hope she’s about to return to me. I’ve been so crushed by her so many times. But hope is seeping in all on its own.

  As we enter the living room, I find her saying, “Dad, we have to talk.”

  And here we go.

  NATASHA

  My knees are shaking as I look at my father and hold tightly to Nic’s hand. “What do you want to talk about, Tasha?” Dad asks me.

  “I’ve been holding things back and it’s made me weak and fragile and I’m sick of being that way,” I say as he looks up at me.

  He crosses his legs and looks at Nic. “You got anything to drink around here? This looks like a real headache coming my way.”