Page 3 of Possessive Doctor

No, she needs to come home with me so she can see that we belong together. Of course, it goes without saying that I’m the one most equipped to help her with her recovery. Then, when her memory returns, she won’t care that I brought her there under false pretenses. She’ll know that she’s meant to be mine. Always has been.

There’s no doubt about it. She will become my wife. She will have my babies. And she might have lost her parents, but I will be her family.

2

AMY

Doctor Andrew Adams is the most handsome man I’ve ever seen.

He’s tall with silken black hair and deep, soulful eyes. He lifts me out of the hospital bed and into the wheelchair as though I weigh no more than a sack of groceries. He’s older than me, I’d say in his late thirties, and as wide as a house.

He towers above everyone else in the hospital. I would say he’s at least six-foot-five. And dear Lord, he puts those sexy television doctors to shame.

All things considered, I have to ask myself—how did I land a gorgeous, successful doctor? I may not have any memories, but I don’t feel like a brain surgeon or a supermodel. What do I have going for me that could attract a man like this? More importantly, where have I been spending my time? How did I even find him?

So many questions but thinking hard only hurts my head.

It’s been three days since I woke up, and Andrew hasn’t left my side. Several tests and check-ups later, I’ve been given the all-clear to leave the hospital. Except for my memory loss, my healing is going well. Besides, my doctors became more confident in sending me home when they found out Andrew would be my personal caregiver.

“Hello?” a male voice calls out from behind the curtain.

Andrew draws the curtain back, exposing a tall, blonde man who looks…maybe twenty-four?

“Amy, my God. Are you alright?” the young man asks.

“Um, I’m okay. D-do I know you?” I ask him, instinctively pulling on Andrew’s sleeves.

He smiles and starts to speak, but Andrew places his hand on his chest and walks him backward into the hallway.

“Who are you?” I hear Andrew hiss.

“A friend of Amy’s. I read about her waking up in the paper and came by to see if I can help her regain her memory.”

“She doesn’t need your help. She doesn’t know you, and I don’t know you. That means I can’t trust you, so you need to leave,” Andrew says and I roll myself closer to the door so I can see what’s taking place. Andrew’s voice has an edge that isn’t there when he’s talking to me.

“Who are you to tell me…” the younger man raises his voice and Andrew shoves him hard. He stumbles over his feet and crashes into the wall behind him.

“I’m the guy who told you to fuck off. Now, fuck off or you’ll be needing a room of your own,” Andrew growls.

“I don’t know what your problem is, but you can’t treat me this way. I’m going to complain to the hospital,” the young man, short of breath, pants.

“Do it. Just get the fuck out of here,” Andrew says and the younger man walks away.

Andrew takes a deep breath and returns to me. He sees me watching the altercation and shakes his head at me.

“You should have stayed where I put you. You aren’t strong enough to be rolling around on your own.”

“Who was that? Do I know him? Do you know him?” I ask.

“No. This happens sometimes. Some loud-mouth nurse fed the media your story, and they put it on the news. Every time this happens, the crackpots come out of the woodwork. He doesn’t know you. He’s messed up in the head.”

“That’s scary. I’m glad you were here.”

“Where else would I be, princess? Now, let’s go home.”

As he wheels me to the elevator, I notice the glares from the nurses we pass. Maybe they’re stunned by the altercation in the hallway. Why else would they be acting this way?

Andrew helps me into the car, and I watch out the window as the scenery flashes by. It’s funny. I seem to remember being here before, but I can’t remember who I was at that time. Oh god. The empty feeling that brings me is almost unbearable.

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