Читать книгу The Good Doctor - Karen Smith Rose - Страница 9

The hotel ballroom was sumptuously elegant. Guests sat on champagne-colored brocade chairs at tables covered with pale rose tablecloths. Candles at each table as well as the overhead crystal chandeliers sent sparkles of light dancing off reflective surfaces.

Violet was seated with Lily and Ryan, her brother Miles and some friends of his. Often Violet’s gaze went to Ryan. He was looking worn and tired tonight, and she was concerned because his headaches might be getting worse. She was glad Peter had been able to arrange the MRI for tomorrow morning. Ryan had told Lily he was taking a trip to Houston for business. After he’d given her the name of the hotel where they’d be staying, she’d accepted the explanation. But Violet could see the tension the lies were causing.

A chamber group had been playing softly throughout dinner and now they quieted at the bustling activity on the stage. A woman tapped on the microphone a few times, smiled at the audience and said, “I want to welcome everyone to the Estelle Clark Memorial Fund-Raiser.”

The woman at the mike looked about Violet’s age. There was something about her that seemed familiar. She was a tall, striking brunette who had a beautiful sense of fashion. Her emerald chiffon gown flowed around her body as if it had been designed especially for her.

Lily leaned close to Violet. “Stacey owns a boutique in the Galleria. I shop there a lot. Besides that, she’s—”

Stacey was speaking again and Lily’s words were drowned out. “As many of you know, it’s an honor for me to be here, happy to raise money to buy equipment for my mother’s memorial wing.”

Suddenly it all clicked into place for Violet, why she thought the woman looked familiar. She was Estelle Clark’s daughter and Peter’s sister. Although Violet had been preoccupied with other thoughts, she’d gotten a quick glimpse of her and another woman as they’d left Peter’s office. That must have been his other sister. At Peter’s house she’d seen a picture of them in the pine cupboard, but they’d been much younger and Violet hadn’t made the connection.

Stacey continued, “And now, so I won’t bore you, I’ll get to the highlight of this evening—our very eligible bachelors. Mr. Kinsdale, come on up on stage.”

A tall, blond man in his thirties climbed the steps and came to stand near the microphone. When he smiled, Stacey motioned him to walk to the end of the short runway.

“Let them get a gander at you. Mr. Kinsdale’s lucky benefactor will win a day of golf at his country club along with dinner overlooking the eighteenth hole. Let’s start the bidding at one hundred dollars.”

The bids came fast and furious. Women at two particular tables were doing much of the bidding.

“They’re nurses,” Lily explained with a smile. “I understand most of them have saved up all year for this donation.”

The bidding ended at two thousand dollars.

“You should bid,” Lily urged Violet as one gentleman after another walked to the edge of the runway.

“I’m not sure that’s the best way to get a date,” Violet joked. “I think I’d rather just write a check for the equipment—”

However, when she saw Peter Clark step up onto the stage, she stopped midsentence. He was a sight in a tuxedo. Although he looked totally debonair, he also looked uncomfortable.

Stacey Clark’s voice took on a teasing liveliness as she gave her brother a quick appraisal. “Here we go, ladies. I have the fun of putting my brother on display tonight. I had to talk long and hard to get him to do this so don’t disappoint me. I want this bid to go sky-high.”

Lowering her voice, she said conspiratorially into the microphone, “He has a big ego. We wouldn’t want it to get dented, would we? Come on, ladies. For a date at the Riverwalk with Dr. Peter Clark, let’s start this bidding at two hundred dollars.”

Peter’s stride was confident though a bit stiff as he walked to the end of the runway, and Violet suspected that he hated being put on display. He must truly love his sister to do this for her. Violet had to admire his attempt at a winning smile, the thumbs-up sign he gave the audience that told them he was doing this in the spirit of fun.

The nurses started the bidding again but this time Violet couldn’t keep quiet. Her hand shot up with the number she’d been assigned in case she wanted to bid, and she called out, “Five hundred.”

Lily’s elbow nudged hers. “Way to go.”

Feeling her cheeks flush, she felt deflated when the bids kept rising above hers. Not knowing whether it was the competition urging her on or the desire to spend an evening at the Riverwalk with Peter, she helped push the price upward. Before she knew it, the bidding was up to twenty-five hundred dollars. One of the nurses, a petite blonde, wouldn’t give up. Neither would Violet. They went back and forth in increments of fifty dollars until they hit three thousand.

“Well, well, ladies. It looks as if you’d like to give Peter a night to remember.”

Violet didn’t dare look at him, but she raised her bid and did it big. “Thirty-five hundred dollars,” she called and the room went silent.

The nurse at the other table shook her head.

Stacey’s face broke into a wide grin as she announced, “Number twenty-four has just won the honor of listening to my brother discuss medicine for an evening. Peter, make sure she has a little bit of fun, okay?”

Shaking his head with the tolerance of an older brother, he gave his sister a hug and descended the steps on the far side of the stage.

Violet wasn’t sure exactly what to do.

“So go talk to him,” Lily said with another nudge.

At least now she wouldn’t have to pretend she and Peter were strangers. Maybe she could use that as an excuse for why she’d bid so enthusiastically.

Then she asked herself, Why do you need an excuse?

An inner voice whispered, Because you don’t want him to know you’re attracted to him.

Although her coral beaded gown had one very long slit from her thigh down to the hem, she didn’t feel ladylike taking long strides. Warning herself not to hurry, to pretend a nonchalance she didn’t feel, she found Peter at the rear of the stage talking to a woman she now recognized as Linda Clark.

When Peter’s gaze fell on Violet, he took a good long look from her upswept hairdo to the pearls around her neck to the formfitting gown. The light that came into his eyes excited her, and she told herself to chill. Her work had always mattered more than relationships. Deep down, she knew she used work as an excuse to protect her heart, especially now when her life was in transition and she had to make some tough choices. Her stay in Red Rock was temporary and a short fling wasn’t on her agenda. Despite all that, her pulse raced and excitement tingled up and down her spine as she moved closer to Peter.

“The woman who finally ended my misery,” he said lightly. “Linda, meet Violet Fortune. Violet, this is my sister, Linda Clark.”

Peter’s sister was gracious and friendly as she shook Violet’s hand and smiled. “You two should have a wonderful time on the Riverwalk.” She waved to someone behind Violet. “If you’ll excuse me, I have to be in ten places at once tonight. It was nice to meet you, Violet.” She gave her brother a pat on the arm. “Don’t be a stranger. Remember, Charlene and Dad’s anniversary party next Sunday evening.”

In the space of a second, Violet saw consternation slip over Peter’s face, but then it was gone and she wondered if she’d seen it at all. Didn’t he want to go to his dad’s anniversary party?

They were standing in a room with about three hundred people, yet when she looked into Peter’s eyes it was as if they were stranded on a desert island all alone. That idea was fanciful and she had to put a stop to the thought now. “I bid on you to give a donation to a good cause and so you and I didn’t have to pretend we were strangers around Ryan and Lily. I’ll understand if you really don’t want to go on a date.”

“A date was part of the bargain,” he said seriously. “I haven’t been to the Riverwalk for a while, but if you really don’t want to go—”

“I’d like to go,” she hurried to say. “I just wanted to let you off the hook. It would almost be like a blind date.”

“I’m not blind, Violet.” His gaze as it passed over her made her stomach flip-flop, and she didn’t know what to say to that.

“Do you plan to stick around here much longer?” he asked.

“I don’t know. I have to pay for my bid.”

“I’d like you to meet one of my patients. Would you come with me to San Juan Hospital?”

“Now?”

“Yep, right now.”

She waved to her gown. “Dressed like this?”

“Believe me, no one’s going to care.”

He intrigued her with his request. “All right. I’ll pay for you.” She abruptly stopped. “I mean for our date…then I’ll meet you in the lobby.”

“I’ll go with you. I want to give a donation of my own.”

Then his hand was at her elbow and he was guiding her through the people and the tables.

Violet wasn’t used to any man besides her father and brothers being protective of her, but as Peter’s fingers scorched her skin, she glanced up at him, tall and strong and broad-shouldered. She felt a quickening inside she’d never felt before. What was wrong with her?

They had to wait in line at the table set up near the doors where other women were also paying for their bids.

“Did your sisters help organize this?” she asked.

“They certainly did. They’ve been very involved with the pediatrics wing ever since it was built.”

“They did a wonderful job. Is your father here?”

“No,” Peter said tersely. Then when he realized that had sounded sharp, he offered, “After my mother died, my father went on with his life.”

“That’s a good thing, right?” Violet prompted, hoping Peter would reveal more.

“That depends on how you look at it. He remarried less than a year after my mother died.”

“How old were you?”

“I was thirteen, Stacey was eleven, and Linda was nine.”

“I’m sorry, Peter. I can’t imagine losing a parent at my age now, let alone when I was that young.”

The line had dwindled away and now the woman at the table collecting checks looked up expectantly at Violet.

Peter took his checkbook from an inside jacket pocket and she knew the conversation was closed. Maybe that was best. She and the doctor were colleagues in Ryan’s care and she should keep it at that.

A few minutes later they were walking through the lobby of the hotel when Peter commented, “I only caught a few glimpses of Ryan, but he looked tired tonight. Are his symptoms becoming any more pronounced?”

“Not that I’ve noticed, but he’s used to hiding them from Lily.”

“What did he tell her about staying in Houston overnight?”

“She thinks he’s having dinner with business associates and then a late meeting.”

The doorman held the door for them as they stepped into the night. Peter gestured to the parking area at the side of the hotel and removed a remote control from his trouser pocket. When a black SUV beeped, Violet knew which vehicle was his. She remembered seeing it in his garage the other night. To her surprise and pleasure, he opened the door for her. As she climbed in, the slit on her dress opened wide.

“So those things have a practical purpose,” he noted in a wry tone.

The panel of the dress had slipped to the side, giving him a good look at her thigh and leg. She’d worn a dress like this before. She’d felt men’s gazes on her before. But right now with Peter’s eyes lighting with male appreciation, she felt self-conscious. Lifting the beaded material, she covered her leg on the pretense that she was protecting the fabric from the door. After Peter made sure she was safely tucked inside, he closed it.

Moments later her perfume mingled with the scent of his cologne in the car. Violet couldn’t help but watch Peter’s hand as he turned the key in the ignition then backed out of the parking space and drove through the parking lot. His hands were large, his fingers were long, and she could imagine his expertise in surgery. Unfortunately, she could imagine a lot more. How long had it been since a man had touched her…really touched her?

“Ever been to San Juan Hospital?” he asked.

“I was in the E.R. a few years ago when Miles had a run-in with barbed wire and needed stitches.”

“Ouch.”

Violet smiled. “That’s not exactly what he said.”

At Peter’s chuckle, she asked, “Do you know my brothers?”

“I met Steven at one of Ryan and Lily’s New Year’s Eve parties. Your other brothers in passing.”

“Were you at Steven and Amy’s wedding?” Her brother had found the love of his life. When they had gotten married about a week ago, she hadn’t seen Peter among the guests.

“I had just arrived when I got a call from the hospital. I had to leave before the wedding even got started. I heard your brother Clyde got married, too.”

“Yep, he sure did. They’ll be back from their honeymoon next week. Steven and Amy only took a few days because they want to get his new ranch in order for the party honoring Ryan.”

“I heard he’s receiving the Hensley-Robinson Award. He deserves it.”

Peter turned into the hospital’s parking lot. Instead of heading for the parking garage, he veered toward the side of the building where signs marked the slots for physicians.

A few minutes later a security guard at the sliding glass doors nodded at Peter and gave Violet an interested glance. Her long gown obviously wasn’t a usual sight at the hospital. As Peter guided Violet through the deserted lobby, he nodded to an older woman sitting at the information desk.

“Good evening, Myra.”

“Good evening yourself, Dr. Clark. Spiffy getup. I’m glad to see you’ve been somewhere other than this hospital. He works too many hours,” she confided to Violet as if she’d known her all her life.

“I hear doctors have that problem,” Violet responded with a straight face.

“See you later, Myra,” Peter said with a wave as he cupped Violet’s elbow and guided her toward the elevators.

His touch sent electricity up her arm, and she wondered what he looked like under that tuxedo. When her cheeks grew hot, she banished the thought. She didn’t know what had gotten into her since she’d met Peter Clark, but she didn’t like it. Since she was a teenager, her head had ruled her life, not hormones, not her heart, not any other part of her. That wasn’t going to change now.

When the elevator doors swished open, they stepped inside. Peter pressed the button for the third floor. Seconds later, they were there, exiting the elevator, turning left toward the sign that directed them to the pediatrics wing.

As they walked down the white-and-tan tiled floor, Violet had to ask herself what she was doing here with Peter. What had made her say yes to his invitation without even knowing whom they were going to see?

Instead of heading down the hall toward the general pediatrics unit, he took another turn and was suddenly in Peds ICU. Bright fluorescent lights glowed above the nurses’ station, though the hall lights were a bit dimmer. The ICU rooms, directly across from the nurses’ desk, were fronted with glass.

Peter’s hand grazed the small of Violet’s back. “I want to check a chart. I’ll be just a minute.”

While she was still trying to compose herself from the brush of his hand, he stepped behind the counter, greeted the nurse on duty, took a chart from the rack and examined it.

A few minutes later he was by her side again. “We’re going to see Celeste Bowlan. She’s six and doesn’t have anybody to care about her except a social worker…and me. She was in an accident with her foster father who was driving drunk. Needless to say, she won’t be going back to that couple. When the ambulance brought her in, she had a collapsed lung and a fractured back as well as abdominal bruising. I couldn’t do surgery immediately. I’ve got it planned for Monday morning. She’s stable now, but I have her sedated.

“When she looks at me with her big brown eyes, she about breaks my heart. She needs somebody to care about her, maybe visit her. Until after her surgery, it’s only fifteen minutes on the hour, but it’ll be something. I thought maybe since you have time on your hands—”

Violet felt herself going cold all over. She stood stock-still when Peter moved to one of the cubicles.

He glanced over his shoulder. “What’s the matter?”

“I’m…I’m not sure you should have brought me here.”

“Why not?”

“Because maybe I don’t want to get involved.”

Quizzically he studied her. “Because of the patient you lost,” he guessed perceptively.

“That’s part of it. Since then I’ve…pulled back.”

“You mean you’ve detached yourself from your patients,” he guessed.

“I haven’t seen that many patients since it happened.”

“Celeste is six years old and she’s all alone,” he said simply. “Reading a story to her now and then, just talking to her could do her a world of good.”

“The mind-body connection?” Violet asked, knowing some doctors believed in it and some didn’t.

“Absolutely.”

Peter was obviously a doctor who did.

He was studying her with far too much intensity. She felt turned inside out and didn’t like it, but she knowingly couldn’t walk away and somehow he’d guessed that.

“Where is she?” Violet murmured.

He gestured toward cubicle number two. When he pushed the button on the wall, the glass door slid silently open. He crossed the threshold first and Violet hesitated only for a moment, then she stepped inside, too. The door closed behind them.

Equipment beeped and buzzed—monitors, the dispenser for the IV, the blood pressure cuff.

“Dr. Clark?” a small voice asked.

“You’re supposed to be asleep,” he scolded gently as he went to the head of the bed and switched on a small night-light.

“Read me a story?” Celeste asked in a sweet, childlike voice that wrapped itself around Violet’s heart.

“I think it’s too late for a story, but I brought someone to meet you.”

Stepping up beside him, Violet looked down at Peter’s small patient. Her eyes were dark brown and huge under her bangs. Her shoulder-length hair was absolutely straight. Violet longed to brush it for her, to soothe her, to somehow make it all better. But that was the problem. Doctors couldn’t always make it all better. She’d found that out the hard way too many times.

Leaning close, Violet laid her hand on the little girl’s, the one that didn’t have an IV line. “I’m Violet,” she said softly. “Dr. Clark tells me your name is Celeste. That’s a beautiful name.”

“My mommy and daddy picked it out,” the little girl said proudly. Tears came to her eyes. “Mrs. Gunthry told me they’re in heaven. I want to go to heaven, too.”

A lump formed in Violet’s throat and her heart felt as if it were cracking.

From behind her, Violet heard, “Mrs. Gunthry is Celeste’s social worker.”

Leaning a bit closer, gently brushing Celeste’s bangs aside, Violet said, “I’ll bet your mommy and daddy are very proud of you.”

Celeste’s eyes grew a little more focused. “Why?”

“Because you’re being a very brave little girl. I’m sure they’re watching over you and hoping you’ll get better.”

“How?”

From Violet’s dealings with children in her practice, she knew they had endless questions and she didn’t always have the answers. Violet lightly touched the little girl’s chest. “They’re always going to live in your heart and help you be strong and good and successful.”

“Will they help me walk again?”

This time Violet looked at Peter since she didn’t know Celeste’s prognosis.

“You’re going to walk again, Celeste,” he said with determined certainty. “And they’re going to be watching you do it. It might take a little while, but you’re going to have lots of help.”

“You?” she asked, her eyes drooping again.

“Me and other nurses and doctors and therapists.” Peter checked his watch. “Violet and I are going to go now and let you sleep.”

“Don’t go,” she whispered.

“I’ll be back,” Peter promised. “I have to take Violet back to her car, but then I’ll come in and sit with you for a while. Okay?”

“’Kay,” Celeste murmured as her eyelids closed.

Violet couldn’t help but touch the little girl’s cheek. There was a longing in her heart to do something for Celeste, and she knew she’d be back to visit.

Outside the cubicle, Peter explained, “The medication makes her sleepy. That’s best under the circumstances.”

“She is a heartbreaker,” Violet admitted, her voice catching. As she walked down the hall, she asked, “Are you really coming back?”

“I always do what I say I’m going to do.”

The assurance in Peter’s voice made her believe him. She didn’t know when she’d last met a man like him. He was kind…as well as downright sexy.

“I’d like to come back and visit her.”

A smile played on his lips. “I was counting on it.”

“You think I have too much free time on my hands?”

“Don’t you?”

“I don’t know. It’s been nice not to have to adhere to a rigid schedule.”

Stopping when they reached the elevator, he pressed the button. “You’re young to have the reputation you’ve gotten. You’ve been working plenty hard.”

The interior of the elevator seemed intimately confining when they stepped inside. As Peter glanced at her, their gazes locked and the current between them could have lit up the whole hospital for at least a week. She didn’t know why she was having this reaction to him and that frightened her as much as excited her. Fortunately, their ride was brief. The lobby was empty.

As they approached the double glass doors, Peter remarked, “The party at the hotel should still be in full swing.”

“I hope Ryan makes some excuse to go home and get a good night’s sleep.”

Peter nodded. “Putting up a good front takes a lot of energy. He might decide to stay until everybody leaves just to prove to Lily nothing’s wrong with him.”

“We’ll know tomorrow.”

After they came out of the hospital, Violet saw a bench to the side of the portico and asked, “Can we sit here a few minutes? I want you to tell me Celeste’s prognosis.”

They could have had this discussion in Peter’s SUV, but something about that was unsettling. Here in the open air, Violet was less distracted by his cologne…by his sheer male presence.

If he thought her request odd, he didn’t show it.

When she sat on the black, wrought-iron bench, a gust of wind reminded her that fall would be slipping into winter soon. She shivered.

Peter must have noticed because he shrugged out of his tuxedo jacket. Before she could assimilate the almost intimate gesture, he slipped his coat around her and she caught the lapels. Now she could feel the tangible evidence of his body heat. Now his scent almost made her giddy.

Finally seated beside her, his knee grazing hers, he explained, “Her prognosis is up in the air, not because of her injury as much as because of her circumstances. I’m afraid she won’t try to get better. She needs support and affection and people who really care about her.”

“Is the social worker trying to find her another family?”

“Trying is the operative word. It’s hard enough to place older children, let alone children who require the care Celeste will need. Her foster father not only drove drunk, but through an investigation Mrs. Gunthry discovered the couple left her alone a lot, too. Celeste has a great-aunt, but she’s in her sixties, arthritic and apparently wants nothing to do with caring for a child. Especially since Celeste didn’t inherit anything but a few pieces of secondhand furniture.”

A great-aunt who had only financial concerns in mind would never be a good parent. Caring about Celeste already, Violet insisted, “Give me Celeste’s best-case scenario.”

The wind blew Violet’s hair across her cheek and she brushed it away. When Peter’s gaze followed the course of her hand, his eyes seemed to turn a darker, more mysterious green. How she wished she knew what he was thinking.

“In the best-case scenario, I’ll fuse her spine. It’s fractured at the L4-5 level. The cord is bruised, not severed. She’ll spend ten days to two weeks in the hospital, then be transferred to a rehab facility. There she can get the therapy she needs to walk again. That could take anywhere from two to five months—some of that in outpatient therapy. You know nothing about this is absolute. That’s why her state of mind is so important.”

His shoulder was touching Violet’s now. As she looked up at him, she murmured, “I’ll spend some time with her, for as long as I’m here.”

“Your attention and support will help.”

“Actually, I think she’ll be helping me as much as I’ll be helping her. Medicine has become too rote for me—diagnosing conditions I can slow but not cure, making judgments, suggesting decisions that can have dire consequences as well as successful ones.”

“You were trained to make judgments and suggest decisions.”

“Yes, I was, wasn’t I? But apparently I wasn’t trained well enough to remove myself from my patients. I’ve got to learn how to do that.”

“No, you don’t.”

Her gaze collided with his and she saw such certainty there.

“I’m not removed from Celeste. You saw that. Should I be?” He shook his head. “I don’t think so. If I were removed, I wouldn’t be as invested in the outcome.”

“I don’t know, Peter,” she said with a sigh.

“Maybe you’ll figure it out while you’re in Red Rock.”

“Maybe, or maybe I’ll have to return to my practice and figure it out there.”

When Peter studied her again, she felt warm in spite of the night chill. She felt so excited, her breath caught. Like a teenager on her first date, Violet was uncertain where the evening would lead. All of it could lead to trouble, she knew. After all, she didn’t indulge in recreational affairs. She never let hormones overrule her head. She didn’t look for relationships because she’d found out at a young age what loving the wrong man could do to her life, to her heart, to her future.

Remembering the girl she’d once been didn’t happen often. She didn’t want the picture to play in her mind now, either. With a quick shrug, she escaped the warmth of Peter’s jacket, gathered it and offered it to him.

“Thanks for letting me use this. I think I’d better get back.”

His focus narrowed slightly but he didn’t try to convince her to stay. Standing, he accepted the jacket and tossed it over his arm. Without another word, they walked to his car.

After he drove to the hotel in silence, he found his parking spot still empty.

Exiting his SUV, Violet said, “I’m not going inside. I’m going to drive back to the Flying Aces.” She didn’t feel like answering questions about where she’d been, why she’d left with Peter, why she’d outbid every other woman in the room for him.

“I’ll walk you to your car.” It wasn’t an offer or a request. It was a matter-of-fact statement that told her he wouldn’t change his mind.

“I’m not afraid of the dark,” she said in a teasing tone.

“Maybe you should be.”

Since she lived in New York City, her attitude wasn’t cavalier. She’d taken a self-defense course. Yet as she pointed out where she’d parked, she wasn’t concerned about her safety as much as she was concerned about her attraction to Peter Clark.

Opening her purse, she took out her keys. After she pressed the remote control button, the car beeped. She stood at the driver’s door not knowing exactly what to say to Peter. It had been an unusual evening.

She settled on, “I guess I’ll see you tomorrow morning. I worry about Ryan driving if this is more than tension headaches. I told him I’d meet him outside the Double Crown and follow him to your place.”

“Did Ryan tell you I’d like to leave by 6:30 a.m.?”

“Yes, he did.”

“Will your brother question where you’re going?”

“With me living at the pool house, we hardly notice each other’s comings and goings. Miles doesn’t watch over me as closely as Clyde does. He won’t miss me.”

The parking lot lights cast a combination of glow and shadows. Peter’s gaze held hers. She couldn’t seem to look away and neither could he. The awareness between them had her senses raised to a fever pitch.

When Peter bent toward her, she was afraid to breathe. She was afraid she’d break the spell. She was afraid his pager might interrupt or else he’d change his mind. In spite of warning bells clanging in her head, she wanted to feel his lips on hers. She wanted to taste him. She wanted to find out if the excitement between them was real.

At the moment his lips touched hers, she knew it was. One of his strong arms went around her and she lifted her lips into the kiss, telling him she wasn’t going to pull away. The sexual tension that had been humming between them since they’d met had needed an outlet, but the kiss was much more than that.

Heat flashed through Violet, making even her fingertips tingle. Coherent thoughts vanished as her body simply responded to Peter’s. His tongue was making her crazy with need. When her arms went around his neck, she pressed into him, and his taut body told her he was as aroused as she was. This kiss was so different from the inexpert kisses of her teenage years, so different from awkward first-date kisses, so different from the maybe-I’ll-try-this-again kisses that had left her cold. She was going up in flames with Peter and she wondered where they could possibly go from here.

She never got the chance to find out. Suddenly the kiss ended as he dropped his arms and stepped away. When she glanced up at him, she was still trembling all over, but he looked as composed as he had all night.

He said, “That was probably not one of the more intelligent things I’ve ever done.”

Her pride kept her from asking why, from showing him the effect he’d had on her. Her pride was something she could hold on to, wrap around herself and rely on.

“It was just a kiss,” she said lightly as if it hadn’t mattered at all.

When he cocked his head, she felt as if he were trying to see right through her, yet she knew he couldn’t. She’d been building walls around herself all her life—since she’d been fifteen, pregnant and more alone than she’d ever felt in her entire existence. There was no way Peter could see into her heart, mind or head.

Opening the car door, she quickly slid inside and closed it. She did not roll her window down to say a final goodbye. Rather she started the engine, shifted the car into gear and backed up. She didn’t even glance in her rearview mirror as she drove away.

Tomorrow morning, when she saw Peter again, she’d be prepared. They’d consult professionally about Ryan, then go their separate ways. End of story.

But her lips still felt as if they were on fire from his kiss, and her insides still quivered. When she felt tears come to her eyes, she took a deep breath and banished them. She was Violet Fortune, strong and independent. She didn’t need a man.