Dr. Fake It - A Possessive Doctor Romance

“Thanks for the warning,” Gavin said. “Please, give me two days.”

“Two days is reasonable,” Vincent said. “But if you change your mind, you know where to find Dante. He’s always at that damn bakery.”

“I have a weakness for the muffins. Stupidly good muffins.” He grinned big and shrugged.

Gavin nodded to the men then turned and left the room, snagging my hand as he passed and tugging me along behind him. My heart raced as I pulled the door shut behind us and we hurried back down the long hall and out onto the sidewalk.

“Gavin,” I said, but he cut me off with a look.

“Wait.” He walked to the SUV and got into the back again. The driver looked a little surprised but started the car without complaint. I got in next to Gavin, and sat silently as we got a ride home.

Once we were safely inside Gavin’s home again, I locked the door, slammed home the bolt, then threw up my hands as he stalked into the kitchen and poured himself a drink.

“You can’t do it,” I said.

“And why not?” He didn’t seem surprised though, and sipped his whiskey with an exhausted sigh.

“They’re trying to force you into it. There’s no way they can’t just order Cosimo to back down. They’re trying to make it seem like this huge thing they’re asking is actually reasonable, but it’s not, it’s nowhere near reasonable. Five years, Gavin, five years is a really long time, and you think they’ll let you walk after it’s all over? They’ll kill you and find some other doctor.”

He nodded and stared at the wall. I wanted to crawl into that brain and figure out what he was thinking, or maybe I wanted to scream into the void and thrash and tear out my hair—but I kept patient and waited, letting him process.

“I think you’re right,” he said, but my surge of relief was short-lived. “But I’m going to do it anyway.”

I sucked in a breath. “Why the hell would you go through this this?”

“Because you have no other options.”

I stared at him, heart racing. I couldn’t understand why he was willing to throw away his life for me, except as some atonement for his sister. I couldn’t let him do that, no matter what he thought. I couldn’t let him find peace at my expense.

“There has to be another way.”

“You won’t take your mother off the ventilator.” He shrugged and gestured at me. “And you’re not going to leave her there alone. So what else can we do?”

“Negotiate. Fight them.”

He laughed. “I can try that, but do you really want me to?”

I stared at him, trying to stay calm. “I never asked for this.”

“I know.”

“This isn’t about you. It’s never been about you.”

“That’s where I disagree.”

I clenched my jaw tight. “This is about me and my family. You only shoved yourself in the middle of it.”

“Maybe when I started, this was about that. When I first got involved, I thought it would be a way to honor my sister and to do the right thing for you.”

“Sounds like you’re still being selfish.”

He laughed. “You’re right. I can’t deny it. But here’s the truth, it’s not about Jamie’s memory anymore. That’s still part of it, but the more I’ve gotten to know you, the surer I am that you’re worth it.”

I shook my head and took a few steps away from him. “I can’t let you do that.”

“Come on, Erica. You can keep pretending nothing’s going on between us all you like, but it’s bullshit. I want you and you want me just as bad.”

“No,” I said, sucking in a breath. I couldn’t go down this route—I couldn’t have this conversation.

If I admitted to him how I felt, then he’d never leave this alone. This was supposed to be simple, we were supposed to get married and pay Cosimo off, then get divorced when the danger blew over. Instead, feelings got involved, feelings I haven’t been able to look closely at, and I can’t bring myself to let him come closer, to let him speak for me.

“Yes.” He threw back his drink and put the glass down with a clatter. “Admit it, Erica. You want me. Something’s happening between us.”

“No, and I want you to let this go. I’m not letting you become a pawn of the mob for me.”

He spread his hands. “If I have to spend a few years stitching up mobsters, I’ll consider it a small price to pay.”

“It’s not a few years and you know it.”

His smile was almost sad, but his eyes roamed along my body. “Years, a lifetime, it doesn’t matter. They’re patients, and I’ll treat them like any other patient, so long as it means you’re safe.”

“No.” I turned and walked to the steps, heart racing.

“Erica,” he called after me, but I stormed upstairs.