Page 19

“A re you sure this is all right?” I question Elana for the third time since we left the house. She reaches across the back seat of the SUV we’re being driven in and squeezes my hand.

“Of course it is. You’re with me.” She smiles. “He never told me I couldn’t take you out for lunch.”

The emphasis on the word lunch sends the little hairs on my neck standing and I check with the driver to see if he noticed the change in tone.

He doesn’t seem to be listening to us at all.

“Going all the way into the city is a long way to go for a sandwich,” I point out, looking out the window as the skyscrapers of the city come into view. Now that there’s light, and I’m not stuffed into the trunk of a car, I realize where I’ve been staying. Twenty-five minutes outside of downtown.

Even if I had managed to get myself to a main road the other night, I never would have made it home. Not on foot with the way my ankle was swelling up.

“It’s fine,” she says again and drops my hand.

“So, you don’t go to school here?” I question.

“Oh, I do. I go to Northwestern.”

“That’s not too far away. You don’t like it?”

“Oh, it’s fine. I have my own place on campus with some friends.” She lifts her shoulder. “It’s not the city though, you know. Too far out.”

“Yeah.” I’ve never been outside the city other than on short vacations when I was little. One week every summer my parents rented a small cottage on some obscure lake, and we’d just hang out swimming and fishing.

Elana swipes her phone alive and starts tapping away on the screen.

“Is that your brother?” The urge to lean over and see what he might be saying tugs at me, but I manage to keep myself in check.

“No. Just a friend.” She grins at the message on her screen, and I get the sense it’s not just a friend. After a soft sigh, she types one last message and puts her phone back in the small purse she has strapped across her chest.

The driver flips on his turn signal and we’re exiting the expressway. Familiarity relaxes my muscles. I’m almost near my apartment building. If I can get out at the next light, I can grab the bus and in twenty minutes I’d be home.

And then where would I be? Alexander would come looking for me. I’d never be able to hide from him in my neighborhood. Leaving the city is probably the safest thing for me. Away from Alexander and away from Marco. Maybe he’ll give up when he realizes I’m gone.

Foolish thoughts, I know.

“You need to relax.” Elana taps my leg when the silence stretches between us. “You’re with me. We’re getting lunch.”

“Yeah.” I open my purse and pull out my wallet to be sure I still have my insurance card stuffed inside. Without having gone to work in the last few days, I’m sure I’m out of a job, and who knows if the policy is even still going to cover this.

“Just park here, Gregor. We’ll walk.”

“Elana. I’ll pull up to the restaurant,” he counters and she sighs.

“Fine. Whatever.” She rolls her eyes and sinks back in her seat. I watch as our actual destination passes my window. It’s only a block away from the deli Elana lied about us going to, but still, watching it slip away makes me worry.

As soon as the SUV pulls into an open space, Elana jumps out and I reach for the door handle. Gregor groans and mutters something in Russian as I pop open my door and hop down onto the sidewalk.

Elana slips her arm through mine and pulls me toward the door of the deli.

“He’s going to park around the corner; let’s just wait until he drives off.” She keeps her voice down and casually glances back. “Okay, he’s gone.”

She tugs on me, and we turn just as we reach the door and hurry down the street to the doctor’s office we’d passed. By the time we get inside, we’re both out of breath and have to give ourselves a minute before hitting the elevator button.

“I need to start working out.” I laugh as I hit the number three for the office I need.

“Same.” She leans back against the wall of the elevator as it takes us up to the right floor.

The office is bathed in soft lighting and soft-yellow wallpaper. Chairs line the walls. Half of them are filled with pregnant women.

“Hi. You have an appointment?” The receptionist smiles warmly when I step up to the desk. Most doctor’s offices I’ve been in have glass surrounding the reception area, but not here. Everything here is so inviting and warm.

“Hey, Julie.” Elana leans her elbow on the desk. “I called about an hour ago and Dr. Simons said he’d squeeze my friend in real quick?”

Julie’s eyes warm when she sees Elana.

“Oh, hi. Didn’t see you. Sure. I’ll let them know you’re here.”

I pull my purse up onto the desk and grab my wallet.

“I’m a new patient; you’ll need my insurance card, right?” I try to hand it to her, but she glances at Elana, then shakes her head.

“No, hun. No need.”

“Oh. Forms?” I try.

She smiles again. “Nope. Just have a seat. They’ll call you back in a sec.”

“C’mon.” Elana tugs on my arm and we find two chairs near the clinic door.

“I don’t want your brother paying for this,” I tell her as soon as we’re seated.

“He won’t even know he’s paying. This is my doctor. Don’t worry so much.” She pats my arm and pulls out her phone again.

The door to the clinic opens. “Megan Reed?”

I glance up at the other patients in the room who have been waiting and heat rushes to my cheeks as I get to my feet. There’s no need to rush me in; it’s not an emergency.

“I’ll wait here. Don’t worry, he’s a good guy. Just tell him what you need.” Elana pushes my hip when I’m still standing there with guilt pouring through me. I don’t need special treatment, and these women have been waiting.

“It’ll just be a few minutes. Go on.” Elana pushes me again and I finally move.

The clinic feels more like someone’s home than a doctor’s office. Instead of the white storage cabinets I’ve seen in medical offices, there are soft chestnut-stained wood cabinets like you’d see in someone’s home. Even the exam room is more like a bedroom. The bed is the same as I’m used to in a gynecologist office, but instead of the crisp white paper drawn across it, there’s a fitted sheet.

“Dr. Simons will be in shortly; he’s just finishing next door.” The nurse points to the magenta robe folded neatly at the end of the exam table. “If you’d like him to do a full exam, go ahead and put on the robe, it ties in front.”

“Oh, do I need that in order to get birth control?”

“Not necessarily. Have you had an exam in the last three years?”

I nod. “In February.” It’s a horrible birthday present to myself, but it’s the easiest way to keep from forgetting.

“Then you can probably skip it. Can I get you anything while you wait? Water? Coffee?”

Water or coffee? At the doctor’s office?

I slowly shake my head.

“No. Thanks, though.”

She smiles and steps out, closing the door behind her.

I’m barely seated in the chair beside the desk before there’s a knock on the door and it swings open. The doctor, a middle-aged man with thick black-rimmed glasses, saunters in, grinning.

“Megan Reed. It’s nice to meet you.” He holds out his hand and I’m back to my feet, shaking it. “Sit. Sit.” He waves me back into the chair, then takes a seat at the desk, swinging the computer screen in front of him, and starts typing away.

“Have you ever been on birth control before?” he asks as he continues to type. “I don’t see anything here in your history.”

My history? How can he have my medical records already? I haven’t told anyone how to get them.

“Once when I was right out high school, but I got a lot of cramping, so I stopped.”

“Hmm.” He nods and goes back to clicking on the screen. “Do you remember what it was?”

“No. Sorry.”

“Not a problem.” He leans past the screen to smile at me, then goes back to his computer.

“I have a question, though. I’ve had unprotected sex recently. If I somehow got pregnant, will this medication hurt the baby?” I’ve done my best to keep from thinking about what might happen if what Alexander and I did this morning resulted in a baby, but now that I’m sitting in this office, the reality can’t be ignored.

“At this early of a stage, the hormones in the pill won’t do any harm, but if you’re concerned, you can wait until after your next period to start the medication,” he explains. “If you do that, you’ll want to be sure to use other protection in the meantime.”

Right. Fat chance of that happening.

Alexander seems hell-bent on staking a claim on me in every way he can. The possessiveness in his eyes when he mentioned putting a baby in my belly gave me the impression I wouldn’t be walking away from him if it happened.

This is ridiculous. I shouldn’t be sitting here getting birth control. I should be asking this doctor to help me get away from Alexander. Or maybe I can just exit through the back of the office and head down to the street.

Elana is sweet, and Alexander will be pissed at her, but I can’t worry about that. I need to concern myself with getting out of this enormous mess I’ve found myself in.

With a new plan in mind, I resolve to get it done.

“Okay. Can you give me a paper script? I’m not sure which pharmacy I’m going to use.”

“Oh, no need. The medication will be delivered to the house.” He smiles like he’s just done me some huge favor.

“You don’t need—” My sentence gets cut off when the door to the exam room bursts open and Alexander stands in the doorway.

My heart skids to a stop. Every bit of life drains from my body as I take in his rage-filled eyes and the intensity of his clenched jaw.

“Alexander.” I barely get his name out of my mouth without throwing up.

His eyes sweep over me but land on the doctor.

“Mr. Volkov.” Dr. Simons gets up from the desk and faces off with Alexander. I knew he was large, but holy hell. Standing in front of the doctor, he looks like the friggin’ hulk.

“Is she sick?” he demands, still not looking at me.

The door is open behind him, but I have very little confidence I’d be able to get past him and through it.

“No. Not at all. I haven’t done an exam but there’s no concerns as of yet.” He swallows as he slips his hands into the front pockets of his light-gray lab coat.

“No exam?” Alexander’s jaw softens a bit.

“No. There isn’t a need, unless?—”

“No. There’s no need.”

“Alexander.” I start to stand, but he finally swings his gaze toward me and it has me planting my ass right back in the chair. I’m not ready to face him just yet. His eyes are still on fire.

“Would you still like me to have the medication sent to the house?” Dr. Simons asks him, completely ignoring me now that the great and powerful Alexander Volkov is in the room.

“There’s no need.” Alexander takes a small step to the side. “She’s finished here.”

“No.” I firm my jaw. “I’m not. The doctor is giving me a prescription and I’d prefer you wait outside.”

Or not at all. Getting out of this office without him seeing me is going to be impossible now. He’ll probably have his men waiting downstairs.

“The doctor has other patients.” Alexander slowly raises an eyebrow.

“Yeah. I’m one of them.” I jump to my feet, running purely on adrenaline. How dare he barge into my exam! “You should just go. This could take a while. I should have a full exam, and you don’t need to be here for that.”

“A full exam?” His voice softens. “You think I’m going to let you get naked and lie on this fucking table for him?” He takes a small step in my direction.

“He’s a doctor!” I swing my arm in Dr. Simons’ direction. The poor man looks ready to vomit.

“Get your purse. We’re leaving.”

“No. I’m not.” I stand my ground. My legs shake a little, and my stomach is definitely rolling with nerves, but I’m still standing.

“Dr. Simons.” He keeps his dark eyes locked on me while he speaks to the doctor. “You’re done here.”

“Yes. I see that. If there’s anything you need, just call the office.” Dr. Simons slips past Alexander, not sparing me a glance as he heads out, softly closing the door behind him.

“You can’t just do that. I have every right.” I jab my finger at him. “Every right to get birth control!”

His eyes narrow slightly.

“You’ve caused enough trouble for one day. Let’s go.” He reaches for my arm, but I swing to the side, just barely avoiding his grasp.

“No. I’m done, Alexander. I’m done!” To prove my point, I stomp my foot. This man has turned me into a crazy person, a crazy, immature brat. I haven’t stomped my foot since I was a kid.

His hands rest on the buckle of his belt.

“I’m not going to argue with you, Megan. You either leave willingly with me right now, or you leave dangling over my shoulder as I carry you out. Either way, you and I are going home.”

“I am home! Well, close to it anyway. Your home isn’t my home!”

Another narrowing of his eyes.

“I thought I made it clear that you belong to me now.”

“Belong to you?” The question comes out as a whisper. “Why?”

“Dexter Thompson was murdered.” He takes a small step toward me. “Killed. And you are the only person who knows Marco DeAngelo was looking for dirt on him. Which means you are a loose end for Marco, not to mention the fucking money you owe him.”

I blink back frustrating tears. This isn’t happening.

“I don’t know anything about anything.”

“Marco isn’t going to see it that way,” he says. “I’m going to fix it.”

I swallow, knowing I don’t want to know but I have to ask.

“How? How can you fix this?”

“By making you my wife.”