Читать книгу Tough To Tame: Tough to Tame / Passion Flower - Diana Palmer - Страница 13

CAPPIE FELT awkward with Bentley the following Monday. She wasn’t sure if she should mention that he’d been to her house over the weekend. Her coworkers were very nice, but she was nervous when she thought they might tease her about the doctor. That would never do. She didn’t want to make him feel uncomfortable in his own office.

Having lived so long in San Antonio, she didn’t know about life in small towns. It hadn’t occurred to her that nothing that happened could be kept secret.

“How was the pizza?” Dr. King asked her.

Cappie stared at her in horror.

Dr. King grinned. “My cousin works at the pizza place. Dr. Rydel mentioned where he was taking it. And she’s best friends with Art, who runs the software store, so she knew he was taking the game over to play with you and your brother.”

“Oh, dear,” Cappie said worriedly.

Dr. King patted her on the back. “There, there,” she said in a comforting tone. “You’ll get used to it. We’re like a big family in Jacobs County, because most of us have lived here all our lives, and our families have lived here for generations, mostly. We know everything that’s going on. We only read the newspaper to find out who got caught doing it.”

“Oh, dear,” Cappie said again.

“Hi,” Keely said, removing her coat as she joined them. “How was the game Saturday?” she added.

Cappie looked close to tears.

Dr. King gave Keely a speaking glance. “She’s not used to small towns yet,” she explained.

“Not to worry,” Keely told her. “Dr. Rydel certainly is.” She laughed at Cappie’s tormented expression. “If he was worried about gossip, you’d better believe he’d never have put a foot inside your door.”

“She thinks we’ll tease her,” Dr. King said.

“Not a chance,” Keely added. “We were all dating somebody once.” She flushed. “Especially me, and very recently.” She meant her husband, Boone, of course.

“And nobody teased her,” Dr. King added. “Well,” she qualified it, “not where Boone could hear it, anyway,” she added, and chuckled.

“Thanks,” she said.

Dr. King just smiled. “You know, Bentley hates most women. One of our younger clients made a play for him one day. She wore suggestive clothing and a lot of makeup and when he leaned over to examine her dog, she kissed him.”

Cappie’s eyes widened. “What did he do?”

“He left the room, dragged me in there and told the young lady that he was indisposed and Dr. King would be handling the case.”

“What did the young lady do?” Cappie asked.

“Turned red as a beet, picked up her dog and left the building. It turns out,” Dr. King added with a grin, “that the dog was in excellent health. She only used it as an excuse to get Dr. Rydel in there with her.”

“Did she come back?”

“Oh, yes, she was an extremely persistent young woman. The third time she showed up here, she insisted on seeing Dr. Rydel. He called Cash Grier, our police chief, and had him come in and explain the legal ramifications of sexual harassment to the young lady. He didn’t smile while he was speaking. And when he finished talking, the young lady took her animal, went home and subsequently moved back to Dallas.”

“Well!” Cappie exclaimed.

“So you see, Dr. Rydel is quite capable of deterring unwanted interest.” She leaned closer. “I understand that you like to play video games?”

Cappie laughed. “Yes, I do.”

“My husband has a score of over 16,000 on Xbox LIVE,” she said, and wiggled her eyebrows.

Keely was staring at her, uncomprehending.

“My scores are around 4,000,” Cappie said helpfully. “And my brother’s are about 15,000.” She chuckled. “The higher the score, the better the player. Also, the more often the playing.”

“I guess my score would be around 200,” Dr. King sighed. “You see, I get called in a lot for emergencies when Dr. Rydel is out on large animal calls. So I start a lot of games that my husband gets to finish.”

“Kell had buddies in the army who could outdo even those scores. Those guys were great!” Cappie said. “They’d hang out with us when they were off duty. Kell always had nice video gaming equipment. Some of them did, too, but we always had a full fridge. Boy, could those guys eat!”

“You lived overseas a lot, didn’t you?” Keely asked.

“Yes. I’ve seen a lot of exotic places.”

“What was your favorite?”

“Japan,” Cappie replied at once, smiling. “We went there when Kell was stationed in Korea. Not that Korea isn’t a beautiful country. But I really loved Japan. You should see the gaming equipment they’ve got. And the cell phone technology.” She shook her head. “They’re really a long way ahead of us in technology.”

“Did you get to ride the bullet train?” Keely asked.

“Yes. It’s as fast as they say it is. I loved the train station. I loved everything! Kyoto was like a living painting. So many gardens and trees and temples.”

“I’d love to see any city in Japan, but especially Kyoto,” Keely said. “Judd Dunn’s wife, Christabel, went over there with him to buy beef. She said Kyoto was just unbelievable. So much history, and so beautiful.”

“It is,” Cappie replied. “We got to visit a temple. The Zen garden was so stark, and so lovely. It’s just sand and rocks, you know. The sand is raked into patterns like water. The rocks are situated like land. All around were Japanese black pine trees and bamboo trees as tall as the pines, with huge trunks. There was a bamboo forest, all green, and a huge pond full of Japanese Koi fish.” She shook her head. “You know, I could live there. Kell said it was his favorite, too, of all the places we lived.”

“Are we going to work today, or travel around the world?” came a deep, curt voice from behind them.

Everybody jumped. “Sorry, Dr. Rydel,” Keely said at once.

“Me, too,” Cappie seconded.

“Nihongo no daisuki desu,” Dr. Rydel said, and made a polite bow.

Cappie burst out smiling. “Nihon no tomodachi desu. Konichi wa, Rydel sama,” she replied, and bowed back.

Keely and Dr. King stared at them, fascinated.

“I said that I liked Japanese language,” Dr. Rydel translated.

“And I said that I was a friend of Japan. I also told him hello,” Cappie seconded. “You speak Japanese!” she exclaimed to Bentley.

“Just enough to get me arrested in Tokyo,” Bentley told her, smiling. “I was stationed in Okinawa when I was in the service. I spent my liberties in Tokyo.”

“Well, isn’t it a small world?” Dr. King wondered.

“Small, and very crowded,” Bentley told her. He gave her a meaningful look. “If you don’t believe me, you could look at the mob in the waiting room, glaring at the empty reception counter and pointedly staring at their watches.”

“Oops!” Dr. King ran for it.

So did Keely and Cappie, laughing all the way.

There was a new rapport between Dr. Rydel and Cappie. He was no longer antagonistic toward her, and she wasn’t afraid of him anymore. Their working relationship became cordial, almost friendly.

Then he came to supper the following Saturday, and she found herself dropping pots and pans and getting tongue-tied at the table while the three of them ate the meal she’d painstakingly prepared.

“You’re a very good cook,” Bentley told her, smiling.

“Thanks,” she replied, flushing even more.

Kell, watching her, was amused and indulgent. “She could cook even when she was in her early teens,” he told Bentley. “Of course, that was desperation,” he added with a sigh.

She laughed. “He can burn water,” she pointed out. “I had so much carbon in my diet that I felt like a fire drill. I borrowed a cookbook from the wife of one of his buddies and started practicing. She felt sorry for me and gave me lessons.”

“They were delicious lessons,” Kell recalled with a smile. “The woman was a cordon bleu cook and she could make French pastries. I gained ten pounds. Then her husband was reassigned and the lessons stopped.”

“Hey, a new family moved in,” she argued. “It was a company commander, and she could make these terrific vegan dishes.”

Kell glared at her. “I hate vegetables.”

“Different strokes for different folks,” she shot back. “Besides, there’s nothing wrong with a good squash casserole.”

Kell and Bentley exchanged horrified looks.

“What is it with men and squash?” she exclaimed, throwing up her hands. “I have never met a man who would eat squash in any form. It’s a perfectly respectable vegetable. You can make all sorts of things with it.”

Bentley pursed his lips. “Door props, paperweights…”

“Food things!” she returned.

“Hey, I don’t eat paperweights,” Bentley pointed out.

She shook her head.

“Why don’t you bring in that terrific dessert you made?” Kell prompted.

“I guess I could do that,” she told him. She got up and started gathering plates. Bentley got up and helped, as naturally as if he’d done it all his life.

She gave him an odd look.

“I live alone.” He shrugged. “I’m used to clearing the table.” He frowned. “Well, throwing away plastic plates, anyway. I eat a lot of TV dinners.”

She made a face.

“There is nothing wrong with a TV dinner,” Kell added. “I’ve eaten my share of them.”

“Only when I was working late and it was all you could get,” Cappie laughed. “And mostly, I left you things that you could just microwave.”

“Point conceded.” Kell grinned.

“What sort of dessert did you make?” Bentley asked.

She laughed. “A pound cake.”

He whistled. “I haven’t tasted one of those in years. My mother used to make them.” His pleasant expression drained away for a few seconds.

Cappie knew he was remembering his mother’s death. “It’s a chocolate pound cake,” she said, smiling, as she tried to draw him out of the past.

“Even better,” he said, smiling. “Those are rare. Barbara sells slices of one sometimes at her café, but not too often.”

“A lot of people can’t eat chocolate, on account of allergies,” she said.

“I don’t have allergies,” Bentley assured her. “And I do hope it’s a large pound cake. If you offered to send a slice home with me, I might let you come in an hour late one day next week.”

“Why, Dr. Rydel, that sounds suspiciously like a bribe,” she exclaimed.

He grinned. “It is.”

“In that case, you can take home two slices,” she said.

He chuckled.

Watching them head into the kitchen, Kell smiled to himself. Cappie had been afraid of men just after her bad experience with the date from hell. It was good to see her comfortable in a man’s company. Bentley might be just the man to heal her emotional scars.

“Where do you want these?” Bentley asked when he’d scraped the plates.

“Just put them in the sink. I’ll clean up in here later.”

He looked around quietly. The kitchen was bare bones. There was an older microwave oven, an old stove and refrigerator, a table and chairs that looked as if they’d come from a yard sale. The coffeepot and Crock-Pot on the counter had seen better days.

She noticed his interest and smiled sadly. “We didn’t bring a lot of stuff with us when we moved back to San Antonio. We sold a lot of things to other servicemen so we wouldn’t have to pay the moving costs. Then, after Kell got wounded, we sold more stuff so we could afford to pay the rent.”

“Didn’t he have any medical insurance?”

She shook her head. “He said there was some sort of mix-up with the magazine’s insurer, and he got left out in the cold.” She removed the cover from the cake pan and got out cake plates to serve it on. Her mother’s small china service had been one thing she’d managed to salvage. She loved the pretty rose pattern.

“That’s too bad,” Bentley murmured. But he was frowning behind her, his keen mind on some things he recalled about her mysterious brother. If Kell was friendly with the local mercs, it was unlikely he’d gotten to know them in the military. They were too old to have served anytime recently. But he did know that they’d been in Africa in recent years. So had Kell. That was more than a coincidence, he was almost sure.

His silence made her curious. She turned around, her soft eyes wide and searching.

His own pale blue eyes narrowed on her pretty face in its frame of long blond hair. She had a pert little figure, enhanced by the white sweater and blue jeans she was wearing. Her breasts were firm and small, just right for her build. He felt his whole body clench at the way she was looking at him.

He wasn’t handsome, she was thinking, but he had a killer physique, from his powerful long legs in blue jeans to his broad chest outlined under the knit shirt. Beige suited his coloring, made his tan look bronzed, the turtleneck enhancing his strong throat.

“You’re staring,” he pointed out huskily.

She searched for the right words. Her mouth was dry. “Your ears have very nice lobes.”

He blinked. “Excuse me?”

She flushed to her hairline. “Oh, good heavens!” She fumbled with the cake knife and it started to fall. He stepped forward and caught it halfway to the floor, just as she dived for it. They collided.