Читать книгу Dr. Charming - Judith McWilliams - Страница 11

Gina gently touched the brakes of her car as she rounded a sharp bend in the narrow Massachusetts road and saw the lights of a small village directly ahead.

She shifted restlessly, trying to relieve some of the stiffness driving all day had caused. Her stomach, as if in sympathy with her muscles, gave a sudden rumble, reminding her that it had been a long time since lunch.

When she reached the village, she slowed to a crawl, looking for someplace to eat. Finding a brightly lit diner, she parked in front of it.

Grabbing her purse, she got out of the car and automatically locked it. A fugitive gust of crisp September wind raised goose bumps on her bare arms and whipped her reddish-brown hair into her face. She absently pushed it back as she considered unlocking the car and digging through her luggage to find a sweater. Finally she decided she wouldn’t be outside long enough for it to be worth the trouble.

She started toward the restaurant and then paused when a garish sign across the street advertising Bill’s Bar caught her eye. Turning, she studied the faintly dilapidated building, taking in what seemed to be a score of neon signs advertising beers, most of which she’d never heard of.

Her gaze swung back to the restaurant. It looked staidly middle class and boringly respectable. Whereas Bill’s Bar looked daring. Adventurous. In keeping with the new life she was determined to carve for herself.

Definitely Bill’s Bar, she decided.

Not giving herself a chance to change her mind, she quickly crossed the street, pushed open the bar’s door and stepped inside.

Nervously her gaze swept the crowded, noisy room. Feeling conspicuous, she hurriedly sat down at an empty table near the door. Picking up the cardboard menu lying on the red-and-white-checked plastic tablecloth, she studied it. It was heavy on imported beers and light on food.

A middle-aged waitress appeared a few minutes later. “What can I get you?”

“A bowl of chili, apple pie and a cup of coffee,” Gina said.

“Won’t be a minute.” The waitress headed back to the kitchen, calling out Gina’s order to someone named Margie as she went.

Gina leaned against the back of the scuffed wooden chair and surreptitiously studied the bar’s patrons while she waited for her food. A large party at the back seemed to be having a great time. A wistful smile curved Gina’s mouth at the infectious sound of their laughter.

“Here you are, miss.” The waitress slapped a big bowl filled to the brim with chili down in front of her. A steaming cup of coffee followed. “I’ll get your pie in a minute.”

Gina was adding milk to her coffee when the bar’s door opened and a slither of chilly night air wrapped itself around her ankles.

“Hey, Nick, how’s the arm coming?” a man from the back of the room called out.

Curious, Gina turned to see who Nick was. Her eyes widened when she saw the man standing just inside the door. He was tall. At least six inches taller than she was. And broad. She measured the substantial width of his shoulders beneath the thick, cream Aryan sweater he was wearing.

Unconsciously her tongue moistened her lower lip as her eyes traveled down over his flat stomach and his long, jean-covered legs.

Hastily she glanced down at her chili, trying to stifle her sudden, inexplicable fascination with his body. She took a slow, deep breath, hoping the flush she could feel burning her face wasn’t visible to anyone else in the room.

What was the matter with her? she wondered uneasily. So what if the man was built like the embodiment of every sexual fantasy she’d ever had. She was old enough to know that sexual attraction was nothing more than nature’s way of ensuring the continuation of the species.

Compulsively her gaze returned to the man. Maybe so, she conceded, but in his case, nature had certainly baited one very attractive trap.

She watched from beneath her lashes as the man walked toward the bar, sat down and reached for a glass of beer the bartender placed in front of him without a word ever having been spoken.

A regular patron, Gina concluded as she studied the man’s ruggedly carved features, her eyes lingering on the strength of his square chin. He had a strong face. Not conventionally handsome, but arresting. Full of character and strength.

Gina watched as he awkwardly picked up his beer with his left hand. Curious, her gaze swung to his right hand and she noticed a cast peeping out from beneath the sleeve of his sweater. He appeared to have broken either his arm or his wrist.

Her eyes narrowed speculatively as he impatiently shoved his fingers through his inky black hair. Nick, whoever he was, did not appear to be in the best of humors. Was his arm painful? she wondered, finding the idea strangely unacceptable. Or maybe something else was bothering him? Maybe he was recovering from a bad relationship? she thought fancifully. Maybe his heart was broken?

Gina’s gaze traced over the sensual line of his lips and mentally jettisoned the idea. He looked like a man who would break hearts, not have his own broken.

Absently, she picked up her spoon and started to eat, her eyes never leaving Nick. He appealed to her on an instinctive level she hadn’t even been aware had existed until now.

Sex, she mocked her own reaction. That was all it was. Plain old animal attraction.

But what an animal Nick was, she thought dreamily. The king of the beasts. Rugged and…

“Here’s your pie, miss,” the waitress’s voice broke into her thoughts.

Gina blinked and looked down, surprised to see that she’d finished her chili.

“Thank you,” Gina said, hoping the woman hadn’t noticed her preoccupation with Nick.

It was a vain hope. The waitress leaned closer and whispered, “That’s our Nick Balfour. He has a place outside-a town. Known him since he was a kid. And his folks before him. And he ain’t got no wife tucked away like some I could mention. You like what you see, kiddo, grab it. Life’s too short not to.”

Gina’s stomach did a sudden flip-flop, and her fingers began to tingle as she imagined what Nick would feel like if she were brave enough to take the woman’s advice and grab him. He’d feel firm and warm and…

“Think about it, kiddo. Like they say, you only go round once.”

“Um, thank you,” Gina muttered.

Satisfied, the waitress gave her a thumbs-up and sauntered off.

Taking a deep breath to slow her racing heart, Gina looked back at Nick. He was staring into his beer as if he expected to find the secret of eternal life written on the bottom of the glass.

There was no getting around it. She found Nick Balfour fascinating, she faced the fact with her usual lack of self-deception. At least, she found his physical appearance fascinating, and she’d very much like to find out if his personality measured up to his body’s promise.

No, nobody could have a personality as great as his body was, she conceded. She simply wanted to see if the personality came anywhere close.

So how did one go about picking up a man in a bar? Gina searched her memory for a clue and came up blank. The situation had never come up before.

Think. She tried to organize her muddled thoughts into a plan. Women have been picking up men since time immemorial. If they can do it, so can you.

Maybe she could make a comment that demanded an answer? Something like what’s a gorgeous hunk like you doing nursing a beer in a backwater bar like this? Gina choked on her coffee at the thought of actually being blasé enough to say something that trite.

There was always the weather or that old chestnut about haven’t we met before. But even if she was willing to try such a clichéd opening, first she had to get close enough to him to do it.

She laid her fork down beside the now-empty pie plate and considered the problem. If she walked over to him and tried to strike up a conversation, and he brushed her off or, even worse, ignored her, she’d be mortified.

But did it really matter if she was embarrassed? She didn’t know any of these people. Did she really care what they thought? No, she didn’t, but she did care what Nick thought, she conceded. It might not make any sense, considering the fact that he was a stranger, but she did care what he thought of her.

She cast a furtive glance at his uncompromising profile. He was still staring into his beer. He certainly wasn’t watching her. She doubted if he’d even seen her when he’d come in. Not really seen her. Men almost never did. She was too tall and too skinny and too…too nondescript to generate much interest in the opposite sex.

Face it, Gina Tessereck, she told herself. You haven’t got what it takes to set masculine hearts ablaze. But it would be nice if she could ignite a spark of interest in just one, she thought wistfully.

She grimaced. The list of what she would like to be different in her life was as long as her arm, and moaning about it wasn’t going to change anything. Only action would change things. And no matter how uncomfortable or embarrassing it might turn out to be, she was determined to change. To grow. She’d given herself until the winter semester at college began to expand her horizons. And she intended to start by traveling and by exploring an emotional relationship with a man.

Compulsively, her gaze returned to Nick. He looked as if he were positively bursting with fantastic possibilities. All she had to do was to have the courage to tap them. Her lips firmed in determination.

Opening her purse, she took out money to pay her bill and dropped it on the table along with a good-size tip for the helpful waitress as she mulled over the problem of making contact with Nick.

She could walk up to the bar and ask the bartender for a bottle of beer to take out with her, she considered. Then, while the bartender was getting it, she could turn to Nick and ask him if he knew of any bed-and-breakfast places nearby. It was a reasonable question to use to start a conversation.

Swallowing nervously, Gina got to her feet. But before she could move toward the bar, someone touched her arm.

Startled, she turned to find herself looking at a slightly overweight, middle-aged man who gave her a leering smile and then ran his eyes over her body with a lascivious look that made her skin crawl.

“I beg your pardon!” Gina gave him her best imitation of her mother’s freezing outrage. “I don’t believe I’ve met you.”

“That’s easy enough to fix. I’m Jim, and who are you, babycakes?”

Gina blinked uncertainly, not sure what to do. Jim wasn’t following the script. He was supposed to retreat in the face of her obvious disinterest. Instead he’d inched closer. Close enough for her to smell the sickly sweet odor of his cologne. Her stomach rolled protestingly.

“I’m not interested,” she muttered, not wanting him near her, but also not wanting to bolt for the door and give up any chance of speaking to Nick Balfour.

“How do you know that? Why don’t you let me buy you a beer, and we can get acquainted?” Jim insisted, seeming to find her nervousness a turn-on.

Nick turned as the whiny pitch of Jim’s voice grated across his nerves. His eyes narrowed speculatively as he saw the woman the older man was trying to pick up. Jim’s taste in women had definitely improved. Not only was she satisfyingly tall, but… His eyes slipped down the length of her slender figure, lingering on the slight thrust of her breasts beneath her dark-green shirt.

He shivered as he imagined the feel of her breast filling his hand. Trying to control his body’s instinctive response to the provocative thought, he forced his gaze upward, only to find that her face was just as intriguing as her body. He studied the slight tilt of her nose with its faint dusting of freckles, which perfectly matched her reddish-brown hair, before moving on to the full curve of her pink lips. They made him long to feel them beneath his own. To find out if they really were as soft and pliable as they looked.

He watched as her face paled in annoyance at Jim’s refusal to take no for an answer. Or was it fear?

Odd, he thought curiously. A woman that attractive should be experienced enough to flatten lechers like Jim without even thinking about it. And yet she didn’t seem to be able to shake him off.

Why not? he wondered, and then hastily quashed his interest. It wasn’t any of his business, he told himself. He couldn’t afford to get involved. Women, especially those who looked the way she did, demanded more from a man than he had to give. Bitter experience had taught him that.

Nick sighed as he saw the sudden flare of panic in her expressive eyes when Jim inched even closer to her. She shouldn’t be out alone if she didn’t know how to deal with the Jims of the world. She had no right involving innocent bystanders in her problems.

But right or not, he was unable to resist the growing fear he could see in her face. It wouldn’t take long, he told himself as he got off the bar stool. He’d slap down Jim, walk her to her car and that would be the end of it. He refused to even acknowledge the flash of loss he felt at the thought.

“You heard the lady, Jim.” A dark, velvety voice flowed soothingly over Gina’s agitated nerves. She turned to find herself staring into Nick Balfour’s cool gray eyes. She felt as if she could drown in their incredible depths. She took a deep breath, trying to break their mesmerizing hold on her, and the faintly spicy fragrance of his cologne filled her nostrils.

“Give it up, Jim.” Nick’s voice hardened perceptibly when Jim didn’t move.

“Hey, no call to get all bent outta shape, Nick.” Jim held up his hands as if warding him off. “I didn’t realize I was poaching. But if you should decide you want a change, babycakes, give me a call. Everyone knows me.”

Gina’s breath escaped on a relieved sigh as Jim returned to his own table.

“I’m Nick Balfour. I’ll walk you to your car.”

“Gina Tessereck, and thank you,” she muttered as she scrambled for something bright and witty to say. Something that would make him want to linger to get to know her better.

“Do you come here often?” Gina mentally cringed as she heard the inane question emerge from her mouth.

“No. Where are you parked?” he asked her as they emerged from the bar.

“Across the street,” she said, trying not to let her chagrin at his clear disinterest show.

His hand unexpectedly closed around her arm as she stepped off the curb, and he jerked her back as a car hurtled past them.

Gina landed against his chest. She could feel the scratchy sensation of his wool sweater against her cheek, and the heat pouring from his large body momentarily suspended her rational thought.

“You okay?” he asked when she didn’t move.

No, she wasn’t okay, she thought frantically. She was fast losing her entire sense of perspective, and she didn’t have a clue as to what to do about it.

“Did that fool Jim really upset you that much?” Nick asked, and Gina felt her stomach twist at his concerned tone.

“No, I… I…” I always sound like the village idiot around sexy men, she thought in dismay.

“Are you well enough to drive?”

Gina took a deep breath and forced herself to step away from him.

“I’m fine,” she blurted out, and then could have screamed in frustration when she realized that she’d just blown a great chance. If she’d claimed to have been too upset to drive, he might have offered to buy her a coffee while she calmed down.

“Is that blue Ford yours?” He pointed to a car parked a little down from the restaurant.

“No.” Gina shook her head. “I have a brown Camry. It’s parked…” She broke off as she realized that her car wasn’t where she’d left it.

Frowning, she looked up and down the street. She was positive she’d parked in front of the restaurant. She turned and checked the other side of the street. There were no Toyotas of any make.

“I don’t understand,” she said. “I left my car right there.”

Nick watched as she pointed to the vacant spot behind the Ford, momentarily distracted by her slender fingers with their shortly cut, clear-varnished nails. He hated long, luridly colored nails.

“I know I left it there,” she repeated as if the very strength of her words could make her car reappear.

“Either you’re mistaken about where you left it or someone took it.” Nick stated the obvious.

“Thank you, Sherlock Holmes!” she snapped, fear and frustration swamping her awe of him.

“Everybody hates the messenger!” Nick gave a long-suffering sigh.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to snap,” she muttered. “But everything I own is in that car. It can’t have been stolen. I mean, this is rural Massachusetts, for heaven’s sake!”

“You think big cities have a monopoly on crime?” he asked dryly when he really wanted to ask why she was traveling around the countryside with everything she owned. Didn’t she have a home? And a man who cared enough to keep her there?

“I know crime is everywhere,” she said. “But knowing it’s out there doesn’t mean I expected it to find me. I was only gone long enough to eat dinner. And I locked it.” Her voice rose despairingly.

Nick’s experienced ear caught the first sign of hysteria in her voice, and he hastily moved to head it off.

“You’ll need to report it.” He gave her a simple task to handle.

“To whom?” Gina looked vaguely around the deserted street as if she expected a policeman to materialize out of the pavement.

“Amos Mygold is the sum total of our law enforcement. This time of night he’s probably at home.”

Gina swayed slightly as she suddenly remembered that all her traveler’s checks were in the car’s glove compartment.

Nick instinctively reached for her, steadying her against his chest.

The feel of his hard body pressing against her from thigh to chest held her growing panic at bay. This close to him, she found it impossible to focus on anything as mundane as being stranded in a strange town, filled with even stranger inhabitants—if Jim was any sample—with very little money.

“It isn’t that bad.” Nick’s deep voice flowed comfortingly over her.

“That’s what you think,” she muttered into the thick wool of his sweater. “All my traveler’s checks were in the car.”

“All of them?”

“Yes.” Gina forced herself to step out of the comfort of his arms. She was a competent adult, she reminded herself. She could handle this. “I didn’t want to risk losing them if someone snatched my purse.”

“Well, that part of your plan worked,” he said dryly, and Gina gave a muffled gurgle of laughter.

Nick felt a flare of interest at the intriguing sound. She was such an odd combination. Her appearance suggested a poised, sophisticated woman, but her reactions seemed much more vulnerable. He found the combination fascinating.

“You can get the traveler’s checks reissued,” he said. “All you need to do is call the company with the serial numbers…” He stopped at her pained expression.

“You do have the serial numbers, don’t you?”

“Of course I do. I even separated them from the checks the way the bank said to. It’s just that I put the numbers in my suitcase in case someone stole my purse.”

“Where do you live that you’re always worried about your purse being stolen?” Nick asked.

“At the moment in my car,” she said with a despairing look at the empty space where it had been parked.

“Which means you are now homeless,” he said, regretting the words the minute he saw her face pale.

“Quite.” Gina straightened her spine and tried to sound more purposeful than she felt. She’d wanted to stand on her own two feet, and this was her chance. So why wasn’t she feeling more elated at the opportunity?

“Your car is insured?”

“Oh, yes. I’ll call the insurance company first thing in the morning.” She tried not to think about where she was going to spend the night and how she was going to get there. Did towns this size have rental car offices? she wondered. At least she still had her credit card in her purse so she wasn’t exactly penniless. And there was the legacy from her father. She’d call the lawyer who’d handled her father’s estate first thing in the morning and ask him to wire some money to her.

“Is there anyone you want to call?” Nick probed.

“No,” Gina said shortly, having no intention of telling him why. The story of her life to date made her sound like a fool. But then, maybe she was, she thought glumly. First her mother had used her love to manipulate her, and then some thief had stolen her car. She wasn’t exactly batting a thousand.

Nick digested the uncompromising negative, wondering what she was running from. The frustrated pain in her voice certainly suggested something.

“It’s going to take a while for you to get things straightened out,” Nick said slowly as an idea burst fullblown into his mind, the brilliance of it momentarily stunning him. “In the meantime, I think we could be of use to each other. You’ll need a place to stay, and I could use a temporary housekeeper.”

He gestured with his cast. “With my right hand out of commission, I can’t do much, and what little I can do with my left, I do slowly and badly. Not only that, but I’ve had enough of Bill’s chili to last me a lifetime. Being my temporary housekeeper would give you a place to stay until you sort things out, and would give me a clean house and a few meals,” he said, hoping his explanation sounded credible.

He hadn’t hired a housekeeper already because he hadn’t wanted a stranger intruding on his privacy, but the thought of Gina sharing his house filled him with anticipation.

Gina swallowed against the sudden spurt of excitement that short-circuited her breathing. Surely he couldn’t be offering her a job? At his house? Just the two of them? Alone together?

“Have you done any housekeeping?” he asked her.

“If you mean as a job, no. But I can certainly clean and cook,” she said absently, her mind busily considering his unexpected offer.

She knew full well she should refuse. Prudence demanded it. She might be monstrously attracted to this man, but she didn’t know him well enough to share a house with him.

But the people in the bar did. She remembered how someone in the back had greeted him by name and what the waitress had said about having known Nick all his life. If he had had any unsavory tendencies, surely his neighbors would know about them and react to him accordingly. Secrets were impossible to keep in a small town, weren’t they?

Not only that, but his offer made a great deal of sense. They both had something the other needed. And it would be a wonderful chance to practice relating to a sexy man, she reminded herself.

Strangely enough, the fact that he really needed a housekeeper depressed her. It would have been nice to have thought that Nick was so attracted to her that he was creating the job as an excuse to keep her around. But just because he wasn’t initially attracted to her didn’t mean that she might not grow on him, she assured herself.

Gina felt a sudden flush warm her cheeks at the thought of where she’d like to grow on him. Dangerous, her common sense chided her. A man like Nick Balfour could destroy a woman’s peace of mind. But what a way to go, her emotions countered.

“What kind of work do you do?” she asked in an attempt to find out a little more about him.

Nick frowned slightly. He didn’t want to lie to her, but on the other hand, he didn’t want to tell her the truth, either. Invariably, whenever he mentioned that he was a thoracic surgeon to an attractive woman, he got one of two reactions. Either they saw dollar signs and started sizing him up as a potential husband who could afford to indulge their tastes for luxury, or they launched into a recital of medical symptoms—either their own or someone else’s.

He didn’t want either of those reactions from Gina. He wanted her to see him as a man, without the accompanying baggage of his profession confusing the issue.

Gina watched as his face hardened into a reserved mask, wondering what had caused it. Her question? Had it embarrassed him? Could he have a humdrum, gonowhere type of job and think she might look down on him because of it?

“I’m a technician,” Nick finally said, remembering what one of his more acerbic professors had once said about surgeons. “And I have to have complete mobility in my right hand to work. So for the time being, I’m just marking time while my bone knits. Speaking of jobs, are you on vacation?” he slipped the question in.

“No, I was a data-entry clerk in Chicago. I got fed up with the same old routine and decided I wanted a change. I’d always wanted to see New England in the fall, so here I am,” Gina said.

There was more to her leaving her job than that, Nick decided as he watched the shadows darken her eyes. Something or someone had hurt her very badly to send her running this far.

“Think of my offer as a chance to see the fall foliage up close and in depth.” Nick carefully kept his voice casual. He didn’t want to scare her off with too many questions. For some reason it was becoming increasingly important to him that she stay.

“But I don’t really know you. You could be an ax murderer for all I know,” she blurted.

“The sheriff will vouch for me,” Nick countered.

“You can ask him for a character reference when we report your car stolen.”

Uncertainly, Gina studied the calm, gray depths of his eyes, unsure of what to do. All her life she’d done what was expected of her. What was conventional. Maybe it was time to do what she wanted to. To follow her feelings where they led, and to hell with caution.

Gina took a deep breath and said, “Thank you. I’ll take the job until I can get everything sorted out.”