Wife To Love Read online

  Copyright

  Wife to Love

  By MK Moore

  © MK Moore 2018 Flirty Filth Publishing.

  All Rights Reserved

  By the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, the scanning, uploading, and electronic sharing of any part of this book without permission of the publisher is unlawful piracy and theft of the author’s intellectual property. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author except for brief quotations used in a book review.

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, locales, or organizations is entirely coincidental.

  The use of actors, artists, movies, TV shows and song titles/lyrics throughout this book are done so for storytelling purposes and should in no way be seen as an advertisement. Trademark names are used editorially with no intention of infringement of the respective owner’s trademark.

  This book is intended for adults only. Contains sexual content and language that may offend some. The suggested reading audience is 18 years or older. I consider this book as Erotic Adult Romance.

  ASIN:

  Cover created by KL Fast

  Editor Melinda G @ MKB Edits

  Proofer: Trisha R

  For Karlee, my work wife. Thank you everything.

  Prologue

  Salenah

  Fuck my life. I shouldn’t complain, but right now at this moment that is all I can do. At twenty-two, you would think I’d want to hit the clubs and party like the socialite I am. But, that isn’t the case. I am a true homebody.

  I just graduated from college with a teaching degree. Though, that is not at all what I want out of life. There has always been a craving for something more in life. I want it to be meaningful and everything, at least to me. I have always wanted to be a wife and mother. A need to find the one man meant for me and love the fuck out of him. Unlike my mother, I want to be the one and only woman in my husband’s life. Anything less is unacceptable to me.

  Instead of partying or looking for Mr. Right, I am dealing with the aftermath of being a Mafia princess. As usual. Yay me! I hate that I have to be away from home right now. I am, however thrilled to be in Germany. It is beautiful and so full of history that I can barely contain my excitement. I have always wanted to travel, but I have never had the opportunity.

  The only downside is that I am all alone and in hiding. My father Luciano fears for my safety. Taking the cash, he gave me, I got out of California. The first flight out of the county was to Germany, so here I am.

  I have just finished sitting alone in a bar eating and now walking back to my hotel. Did I mention I hate being alone? Monophobia (fear of being alone) is a real thing and I have always suffered from it. At one point it had gotten so bad I had to be homeschooled. Eventually, I somewhat grew out of it by high school by learning to hide the symptoms and my reactions to it better.

  Being isolated at home by necessity, I was grateful to at least have a Kindle and my mom, Camille. My mom is my best friend and I have major separation anxiety when we are not together. Is it any wonder though?

  She is the only person I talk to daily and that has not been possible for the week I’ve been here. My dad took all my credit cards, cell phone, laptop, and even my kindle. Any and everything that would connect me to the world is no longer in my possession. I cannot even take pictures of the sights.

  After leaving the restaurant, I wander around aimlessly looking in shop windows. They are all closed, but I decide to come back tomorrow to buy the gorgeous boots I saw on display in one window.

  Getting near my hotel, I start to feel as if someone is watching me. I can hear footsteps behind me and it reminds me of a horror movie. As I start to pick up my pace, slowly increasing it until soon I am all out running, I now know there is no question someone is behind and following me. I stupidly turn into an alley, which is closed off at the opposite end by a building. There goes my thought on being able to get out the other side.

  Turning around and facing the open end of the alley, there is a huge man in a black hoodie standing there and holding a large knife.

  I can feel the panic rising in me as the man comes towards me. It has been awhile since this has happened to me, but I am sweating and rapidly breathing. My lungs cannot get enough air and I feel both out of control and helpless. The knife digs into my face as he brings it down to cause damage, but the pain or cut does not register. I may have kicked him to push him away from me, but I am not sure. Instead, I take off at a dead run back to the opening of the alley.

  My flight or fight response is slow as I crash into a solid wall of muscle and everything goes black.

  Chapter One

  Robby

  The last nine years have been grueling in a way most people do not ever get to experience and stuffed into a short amount of time, all before I turned twenty-five. After graduating high school at the age of fifteen, I did the next logical step and went to college. Enrolling and going the pre-med route had me graduating from college at the ripe age of eighteen. I loved it and was proud of myself, as was my family. Although, they did not always know how to handle me.

  My mother and stepfather tried to give me a normal childhood, but even with their hard work I was still an outcast. Sports drove me crazy because I wasn’t any good at them. I was tall, skinny, and gangly. Your average looking nerd. Which means girls never gave me the time of day. It seemed as if even my brothers Derek and Blake, and my sister Ronnie treated me like a leper or someone who did not belong in their family. I know they were young too, but I didn’t understand then why I was different. Being lonely is why I plowed through all my coursework in record time.

  The world was open for me to be able to do anything, but instead I had a calling to serve my country. There is nothing greater than the feeling of doing something for your country. I joined the Army while I in medical school and the rest is history. The Army helped to bulk me up. It took me from a gangly kid to the man the you see today. The Army also gave me the kind of friends that last a lifetime.

  After completing my last tour, I have been doing my debriefing in Germany for the last week. As I woke this morning it looked like an ordinary day in a foreign country. Little did I know my whole world was going to change.

  Originally, I decided to find my own way home, which means my flight will leave Berlin in two days. It gives me time to enjoy a little sightseeing, while not following a strict schedule for the first time in years. There is a weeks’ worth of beard growth on my face and I have no plans to shave. It will take time for my hair to grow out from the Army issue buzz cut, but I will never have a scheduled haircut again. In fact, I am looking forward to NEVER making an appointment for one again.

  Since I have seen all Berlin has to offer and clubbing holds no appeal for me, I am ready to head back to my hotel room by early evening. I am leaving the bar I had dinner in when a loud and horrifying scream tears out through the night. It was full of anguish and despair. I stop dead in my tracks and turn to take off running in the opposite direction, towards the scream.

  Running into the alley, I collide with the screaming woman. Her eyes look haunted but quickly change to relief when we collide. As I lift her with ease, she goes lax and the screaming stops as she quickly passes out. Her face is covered in blood and I can tell it is mostly hers. Down the alley I can see a man dressed in black and staring at us. How fucking cliché can this guy be?

  My instincts kick in and the first thing I do is memorize his face. His face is ugly with weirdly vivid green eyes and dark hair surrounding it. Dashing my eyes
down lower to his hands, where I can see he has tattoos on them. The way he is holding his pathetic looking knife shows me the top of his hand, which says DEATH. Nice.

  The urge to go after him for hurting who I can only describe as mine is overwhelming. But, I know she needs medical attention immediately and turn away from him to carry her out of the alley. He would be an absolute idiot to follow me out to try and finish whatever it is he had planned.

  I cannot explain the visceral reaction my body has towards her, but I find that I don’t care. For the first time in my life I don’t need science to explain this.

  Reaching into my pocket, I pull out my cell phone and call 112 for the police. While I wait for them, I check her over. I find nothing, but her US Passport attached to her, under her clothes. Smart girl. She must have read the same Frommer's guide I did.

  Salenah Renee D’Agostino, twenty-two. She has a beautiful name. I cannot help but wonder what she is doing here. Is there a man waiting for her? Jealousy, a natural emotion I did not know I had comes rushing forth.

  Was he trying to rape her? My fists are clenching at my sides. Her long skirt is twisted, but that could have happened when she was running to me. What kind of sick bastard does this to someone? I brush her dark brown hair out of her eyes, which are still closed and is starting to be alarming.

  My medical brain is kicking in to help her, but I know there isn’t anything I can do on the street. I immediately see she has a huge cut on her face. Head and face wounds bleed profusely, but this cut is also deep. She needs stitches badly. After a quick assessment, I do not see anything else outwardly wrong with her, so I use my shirtsleeve to try and clean her face.

  She still has not waken, but as the old blood is removed and I see her face for the first time, my chest constricts and my earlier assumption she is mine starts pounding through my head again. The need to go back in the alley and kill that fucker is very strong. Those kinds of thoughts go against my oath to save lives and not take them away, but for this girl I would do it. Even though I was in the Army and know how to shoot, I had no call to use my weapon while overseas.

  The feeling of being a caveman right now is something I’ve never felt before. It is as if every damn thing in my life clicked into place. A feeling that I would never again know loneliness and for some reason, I gather she will not either.

  Lost in my thoughts, I don’t notice the ambulance pulling up to the curb. When the EMT asks me, “In welcher Beziehung stehst du zu dem Patienten?” What is your relationship to the patient?

  I say the only thing that comes to my mind. “Sie ist meine Frau.” She is my wife.

  Chapter Two

  Robby

  My wife. It has a nice ring to it and I am not sure why I care so much. I know literally nothing about this girl except her name and age, but I would give anything to be her husband. Her beauty is striking, but somehow suddenly it is more than that. Just being near he and, holding her hand is calming.

  It has now been several hours, and she still has not woken up yet, but as I sit by her bedside I feel connected to her. The kind of connection I never knew existed. It is one which is so strong, I am finding it hard to leave her even for a minute.

  How the fuck could he hurt her? It’s the part that is still bothering me. I have been sitting here praying for her to wake up. She is just sleeping, but I need answers to my questions. They had to put thirty-five stitches in to close the wound on her face. I am pissed. More pissed than I have ever been.

  When she finally stirs, I grip her hand and call for the nurse using the button on the control.

  “What’s going on?” She asks, looking scared. Her face is pale, when I brush her hair out of the way. She stills at my touch, but then melts into it. Sighing, I smile down at her and when she returns one it causes her to wince in pain. I hate that, but her easy acceptance of my touch makes me hard. I must adjust myself, but luckily, she doesn’t notice.

  “You are in the emergency room, Salenah.” I say, gently. Her name falling from the lips the first time feels right.

  “Oh, God. Who are you? Are you the police?” She asks me, panicking. Why does she distrust the police? It makes me glad I have not called them yet. I will need to get to the bottom of that. At this point the nurse comes in.

  “Hi Salenah. I am glad you are awake. My name is Helga and I am your nurse. I need to take your vitals. How are you feeling?” Helga asks. Her thick accent makes it hard to understand her.

  “My face hurts pretty badly, but that’s all.” Her eyes find mine and she looks desperate, as the nurse takes her blood pressure.

  “I’m sure it does. You have a nasty cut. It took several stitches to close the wound. Everything looks good. Do you need anything?” She asks.

  “No, I am fine. Thank you.”

  “Alright. I will be in again soon. As soon as the doctor checks you over again, then you will be free to leave.” She leaves, and I am left alone with her again.

  “Are you the police?” She turns back to me and asks again.

  “Uh, no. I am Robby Spencer. You ran into me at the opening of the alley and I called an ambulance for you.” I say, hastily, trying to reassure her that I am a good man. I don’t know if my voice can convey that, but still I try.

  “Fuck. I am sorry. Thank you, Robby. How are you back here?” Her face goes soft. She asks, while looking around.

  The slipped curse word makes me chuckle. My girl has a filthy fucking mouth and I’d love to hear more of it in a much different setting. That thought has me adjusting myself again.

  “I may have told them that I am your husband.” I chuckle. I would give anything to make that a reality.

  She bursts out laughing, which I was not expecting. The pretty tinkling sound should be heard all the time.

  “Ow. That hurts but that’s funny. They believed you?” She says, lightly fingering the bandage on her face.

  “They did. I am sorry I lied, but I couldn’t leave you.” I am not sorry though.

  “That was very nice of you, but you do not have to stay.”

  “I realize that, but for some reason I can’t seem to walk away.” I say with no shame.

  “Oh, that’s something.” She seems confused. Hell, I am confused myself. Her eyes scan my body and she must like what she sees, because when her eyes meet mine, it’s like static electricity. That sensation when you touch something, and it shocks you, though we aren’t touching. That must mean something.

  “I found your passport.” I say dumbly.

  “Thanks. I don’t suppose my hotel key was found too was it?”

  “You got a man?” I blurt out. I have never really had game, but this is sad. I am fishing for information, but I could have been smoother.

  “So that’s a no on the key?” She says with a restrained smile.

  “What?” I must have missed what she said before.

  “My hotel keys.” She says again.

  “Oh. I didn’t see one.” I mumble.

  “Ok. Yeah, I have a man.” She says nonchalantly.

  “Oh.” What the fuck? That one sentence has my one hope that she knows something is between us plummet.

  “Apparently, you are my man.” She says shrugging. Her acceptance of this fact makes me think that she thinks it is a foregone conclusion, but I do not look a gift horse in the mouth.

  “That’s right, baby. I am your man.” I absently reach my hand out, until my thumb touches her plump bottom lip.

  She doesn’t say anything for a minute, but then she surprises me.

  “I think having a man around would save me a lot of trouble.” She says as she places a tiny kiss on the pad of my thumb.

  “How so?” My voice is gruffer than I would like right now, but I cannot help it.

  “I have to pee.” She says, wincing when she offers me a smirk, effectively changing the subject.

  I chuckle and spring into action, lifting her from the bed. She has no IV or cords stuck to her, which makes this easy as hell. I carry her
into the tiny bathroom that is in the room and set her down. She doesn’t move and neither do I.

  “Uh, I don’t need an audience.” She says pointing to the door.

  “Right. Sorry. I’ll be right out here when you are done.”

  “Thanks.” She closes the door.

  I knew the moment the sink turns on she has seen her face. I did not have the heart to tell her how bad her face is, but I should have warned her.

  “Son of a bitch. I am going to kill that mother fucker.” I hear her say as she washes her hands.

  I pull the door open and see how crestfallen she is making me want to reassure her, that she still is the most beautiful woman in the world.

  “Do you know who did this to you?” I ask, surprised by this revelation because I had thought it was a stranger danger situation.

  She looks at me through the mirror and nods. It must be bad because her tears are freely flowing down her pretty face.

  “Angelo Rossi.” She says and turns to walk right into my arms.

  Fuck. Everyone knows who that bastard is. This is a mob hit. There is nothing else it could be. Regardless of the situation or the danger she faces, there is nothing I will not do to protect her. There is just something about her that makes me crazy. Her silent tears quickly turn to sobs and I am gone. Over the moon is an expression I’ve heard before, but I always thought it was a bunch of bullshit. I have never been glad to be wrong before.

  I need to explore that, since I have never come across anything like it before.

  Chapter Three

  Salenah

  I didn’t really feel there was a chance he did not know who Angelo Rossi is. Every American should know and fear him. He would cut down his Granny as easily as a man who steals from him.

  My face is ruined. It was not that great before, but now I look like a home ec project gone wrong. Angelo has been the bane of my existence for years now. When I refused to marry him, I put a target on my back and now I cannot believe he found me here. Somehow, I feel as if I am suffocating and drowning and I will never breathe right again. Except when Robby looks at me. When his eyes are on me, I feel like a fucking warrior queen and I can do any damn thing I want. He doesn’t look at with pity, like the nurse did.