Page 133 of The Billionaire's Christmas Bride

"Excuse me? Are you joking?"

"Not after how you acted with her…"

"What? You just said my CPR saved her. Why are they pissed at me?"

"Amelie."

"She’s not their concern."

"By all accounts, she is now."

"The fuck do you mean?"

"She’s in there with them," Arpad adds.

My heart begins to race.Shit, can I put this right somehow? Have I been given another chance?If I can get to her and explain my actions... I rise to my feet and the world lurches around me. "Fucking fuck." My legs give way under me and I crash back onto the examination table.

"Man, you’re pathetic." Damian glowers down at me. "They don’t want to see you. You don’t want to go there; it could get ugly."

"They’re my family; they’ll see me," I insist.

"You sure?"

"I mean, so I was, uh—unreasonable with her."

"You think?"

"Okay, I was an ass. I hurt her—"

"More like broke her heart. What were you thinking? Asking her to leave in front of everyone? A moose would have more sense than you."

"A moose?"

"It’s Christmas, and all that," he explains.

"Right." I lurch back up to my feet; my legs seem to hold me this time. I take a step forward, sway. Damian grabs my shoulder. I shake it off, "I can fucking do this on my own."

"Fine, man, whatever." He exchanges a look with Arpad, who shakes his head.

"You bitches have anything to say, you can say it to my face."

"Still crotchety in his old age," Arpad mutters.

"If you cunts can’t help me, then you can fuck off," I growl, step toward the exit of the room. By the time I reach the doorway I am panting. I grab the doorframe; sweat beads my forehead.Shit, the fuck is wrong with me?My shoulder hurts, but my fractured finger seems to have gone numb, thank fuck. I propel myself forward, make it into the corridor and crash into a nurse. The young woman straightens, shoots me an annoyed glance, then blinks. "Dr Kincaid?"

Thank fuck. She recognizes me from when I'd done my residency in this very hospital. I need all the breaks I can get; so long as I reach her in time.

I glance down at the nurse's badge. "Marcy," I kick my lips up in a smile, "Can you help me?"

She flutters her eyelids and my gag reflex kicks in.Shit, has to be the drugs I am on. It’s no wonder I feel like I am flying. It’s also the only reason that I can’t tolerate another woman putting the moves on me. Yeah, nothing to do with the fact that a sassy, curvy, pastry chef has entranced me. Sure, keep telling yourself that, fuckhead.My head spins. I put out my hand to steady myself and Marcy grabs it.Fuck, this is not right—me touching another woman. The fuck is wrong with you Kincaid?Eyes on the prize, remember, and right now, I need help in getting to where Amelie…and my mother, and yeah, the entire family is.

I hold onto Marcy’s shoulder, "Can you help me?"

40

Amelie

"How dare he do this?" I mumble under my breath.How dare he tell me that he doesn’t want me, doesn’t want a future with me? Get over it; get over him.Every time he’s pushed me away, I’ve returned to him. Like an ant attracted to sugar, like cream on milk, like jelly on the floor—gah, stop. Even my metaphors are beginning to sound pathetic.Just leave, before he hurts you further. Pulls away at any final shred of self-respect you have left, before he destroys your confidence completely.