Читать книгу Medical Romance June 2016 Books 1-6 - Lynne Marshall - Страница 16

CHAPTER SIX

“EVERYTHING LOOKS GREAT, Freya, with baby the perfect size for a healthy fetus, four months in gestation,” Gabby said, smiling. “And you look wonderful too. Your skin is positively glowing. Can I admit to being jealous?”

She’d said the words to make Freya happy, but right after she’d spoken them, the unpleasant, unexpected, and unwelcome cloud weightily slipped over her head again. Why were the memories becoming more frequent, instead of more distant? She had no idea, but dwelling on it accomplished nothing, and she did her best to shake off the gray gloom, because Freya deserved the true joy Gabby felt for her friend and employer.

“I do feel wonderful, honestly.” Freya’s smile was big enough to banish some of Gabby’s moping and make her smile too. “Though several friends have told me to enjoy it while it lasts, because after it arrives I’ll be so sleep-deprived I’ll forget the baby’s name.”

Freya’s words dashed the final remnants of gloom, and Gabby had to laugh. “Maybe not quite that much. But no matter how many times I warn new mothers that a lot of babies refuse to sleep, no one really hears it until they’re living it.”

“Well, either way, sleep or no sleep, I’m beyond excited.” Freya sat up and adjusted her exam gown. “Half-dressed isn’t the way to talk business, but since we’re both so busy I’m going to take advantage of this time alone to chat.”

“About?”

“The charity ball. Rafael Moreno told me he asked you to go with him, but you told him you didn’t want to.” Her voice became chiding. “Really, Gabby, why in the world would you say that?”

Her stomach plunged and tightened as she stared at Freya in surprise. How was she supposed to answer that? Oh, I find him too sexy and attractive, that’s all, and my life is devoted to my work now.

“Well, he’s a little overbearing, don’t you think? And arrogant.”

And unbearably hot.

“I think it’s confidence more than arrogance,” Freya said with a smile. “But you don’t have to be best friends with him, or even particularly like him, to attend the ball with him, Gabby. The purpose of the fundraiser is to raise awareness and money for the Bright Hope Clinic. When one of our own obstetricians, temporary or not, who happens to also be a prince attends the ball, that’s news. Like it or not, that’s the way the world works. Rafael pointed out to me that if the head midwife at the hospital is the prince’s date for the night, that’s even bigger news, and exactly the kind of public relations opportunity I’m always looking for.”

How weird was it that Freya’s words sent Gabby’s stomach sinking in dread at the same time her chest lifted in excitement and her darned subconscious immediately imagined what kind of dress she should wear to such an event? Clearly Rafael Moreno’s arrival at The Hollywood Hills Clinic had sent her sanity a little off-kilter, since she really should be annoyed that he’d gotten Freya involved, using that kind of manipulation to get her to attend with him. Another example of the man’s colossal ego!

But even if her entire body had been filled with dread instead of that peculiar mixture of emotions, it wasn’t like she could say no. She believed in what the Bright Hope Clinic was doing, and if she could contribute in any way, big or small, she wanted to.

“Fine. I’ll go.” She hoped Freya didn’t notice that her gruffly sighed answer was charged with anticipation too. After all, what woman in her right mind—or even confused one—wouldn’t want to be Cinderella for just one night, attending a ball with a handsome prince?

She’d just have to be sure to leave her glass slippers buried deep in her closet at home.

* * *

When Gabby had decided to install a new top-to-bottom door mirror in her closet, she’d never dreamed that she’d be needing it to look at herself in a long gown. A gown she’d be wearing to attend a ball with a handsome prince. Gabby snorted and shook her head at herself, wondering how a grown woman could feel so wrapped up in thinking about a party and what she’d be wearing, like a teenager going to the prom. Ridiculous.

She studied the lines of her dress. Turned side to side, looked at the back, then the front again. And sighed. Because she knew full well that the majority of women attending the ball tonight would be wearing designer dresses that cost more than her month’s rent, not to mention that there wouldn’t be a single one there who’d made her own gown.

Filled with jitters of doubt now, she worried that maybe she shouldn’t have done that. Why had she been so convinced she shouldn’t just buy one off the rack? The answer was because she knew anything she could afford would be made from substandard fabrics, compared to the glamorous, designer dresses the rich and famous would be wearing tonight. And she knew how to sew, didn’t she?

Her strong, female ancestors had not only studied midwifery and spent their lives helping others, they’d been talented seamstresses. Hadn’t learning at her grandmother and mother’s knees given her the skills to pull this off? Staring at her dress now, she wasn’t so sure. The ring of her doorbell...a loud, silly horse whinny the previous avid horseracing fan tenants had installed...made her jump. Then laugh out loud. Clearly Cinderella’s carriage had arrived, except the prince was already on board, not waiting at the ball.

Resisting the urge to wipe her suddenly sweaty hands down the emerald-green fabric of her gown, she opened the front door. Then stared, her breath hitching.

She’d thought Dr. Rafael Moreno had been attractive in the scrubs that showed his strong physique? In a dress shirt and pants at the clinic, and when they’d gone to dinner? Those Rafael Morenos had nothing on this one, who exuded royal arrogance from head to toe in a tuxedo that fitted him so perfectly she knew it had to have been tailor-made for him. His shirt was so white it was practically blinding, his classic black bow tie perfectly placed beneath his strong, tanned throat. The late evening sun gleamed on his dark, glossy hair and sculpted jawline, and a slow smile curved his lips.

She gulped. There was one perfect way to describe how her body was reacting to his mouthwatering beauty.

Tuxedo libido.

She fought down a nervous giggle. How had the room gotten so warm? Clearly, May in Los Angeles meant it was time to adjust the thermostat.

“Hi,” she said, knowing she sounded a little breathless, but since she was breathless it was the best she could do. “I’m ready. I just need to grab my purse.”

“I’m relieved, I have to say.”

“That I’m ready? Is that another comment about what you think of my organizational skills?”

“No. As I drove here, I wasn’t sure what to expect, having several scenarios that came to mind. In the first, I was afraid you’d open the door wearing sweatpants, planning to ditch me to lounge at home instead, since you hadn’t wanted to come with me tonight.”

“I wouldn’t ditch you, even though you’d have deserved it if I did, since it was pretty sneaky of you to get Freya involved as your date planner. However, I always honor my commitments. Though I admit that lounging in sweatpants holds a certain appeal.”

“To me as well. You would look very sexy in sweatpants.”

“Uh-huh. Pretty sure sexy and sweatpants are mutually exclusive.”

“Not true. I’m picturing you in them right now.” Something about the way he was looking at her had her wondering exactly what he was picturing, and her breath hitched all over again. “The other, even worse scenario I envisioned was you wearing a more casual dress because you were planning to go on a date with someone else. In which case, I’d have to fight him when he came to pick you up, and my parents rarely appreciate that kind of scene.”

Despite the absurd words, there was something serious in the gleam of his eyes that had her laughing in surprise. “I can’t see you fighting over a woman. There are too many fish in the sea who’d fall at your feet for a date, because they don’t know what a shark you are.”

“But you’re willing to risk a date with a shark for a good cause, hmm? And there’s only one woman as beautiful and interesting as you are. That dress is exquisite on you, by the way. My mother would be impressed with your designer.”

She laughed. and at the same time a bubble of satisfaction and relief that she didn’t look ridiculous filled her chest. “Don’t tell anyone, but the designer is someone who works for a dress-pattern company, and I made it myself.”

“You made it yourself?” The astonishment on his face was comical. “That’s incredible! Beautiful, compassionate, and talented as well. Every man at the ball tonight will envy my good fortune to have you on my arm.”

It was a line, she knew, but her stomach flipped inside out anyway. “They’ll probably envy you for a lot of other reasons, like that whole prince thing that makes you think you can do whatever you want whenever you want.” Okay, she didn’t really think he was an overbearing jerk anymore, but it was probably a good idea to keep up that charade.

She also wouldn’t add all the other reasons men would envy him. Like his incredible good looks and confidence and sense of humor and everything else about him that made every part of her body tingle a little. She turned jerkily to grab her evening bag from the chair, willing herself to act normal and calm. After all, this wasn’t a real date. The only reason he’d asked—no, manipulated—her to join him tonight was because it was good PR for the clinic, and more publicity about the ball would result in more donations.

His grasp on her elbow was light, but Gabby still felt the warmth of it clear to her toes as he tucked her into the car. Her heart seemed to thunder as much as the car engine as it accelerated around the mountain curves. Excitement pumped through her veins, and she realized she hadn’t felt this...this alive in a very long time. Not since her life, which she’d thought had been so steady and planned out, had been obliterated with one, selfishly bad decision.

She determinedly squelched those thoughts. No point in dwelling on something she couldn’t change when she had a few hours to enjoy what she knew would be a very special evening. She stole a look at the man sitting so very close to her and he must have felt her gaze because he glanced at her with a smile that suddenly faded.

“There’s one thing I must warn you about,” he said, turning his attention back to the road. “I’m frequently followed by the press, looking for a juicy story. I would guess there will be photographers outside the hotel anyway, wanting to get pictures of the various stars attending this event. Some will doubtless take pictures of us too, so don’t let it worry you.”

“Do you often give them juicy stories?”

“If you asked my parents, they’d say yes. In fact, I’ll tell you the truth. I came to stay in L.A. for two reasons. To see James and to hide from the press after an unfortunate incident.”

“I can’t imagine you hiding from anyone.”

“I don’t like to. But there are times that even I have to bow to family pressures, and this was one of them. But I’ve decided I don’t care. That being out with you tonight is important to me—and I hope you won’t let any media coverage bother you either.”

“The media won’t care who I am, so I’m not worried about it.”

“Don’t count on that.”

His expression looked almost grim as he pulled the car up to the front doors of the hotel. Gabby stared in shock at the swarm of people wielding cameras and standing on both sides of the huge double doors, kept back by red velvet ropes curving between golden stanchions. A valet opened her door and in mere seconds Rafael appeared by her side, reaching for her hand. The camera flashes were so bright and constant it was like being hit in the face with a strobe light, and she blinked and instinctively reeled back. Rafael’s hand dropped hers to move to the small of her back, firm and steady. He seemed unfazed by it all, leading her forward in an even, unhurried pace until they were safely inside the hotel doors held open by employees.

“Oh, my Lord, you weren’t kidding!” She stared at him. “Is it like this wherever you go?”

“Not always. When there’s an event they know I’ll be showing up for, yes. But sometimes, as you saw when we had dinner the other night, they’re not around. Or it can seem that way, though sometimes I’m wrong about that.”

As they moved farther into the room, she quickly looked around, expecting cameras to be closing in on them at that very moment. Thankfully, all she saw was a room filled with beautifully dressed men and women, all smiling and talking against the gorgeous backdrop of an old-style hotel, built in the days when Hollywood had been all glitter and gold and extravagance.

“Gabriella, there is something I need to talk to you about regarding the paparazzi,” Rafael said.

She turned to him, wondering what was causing that crease between his brows, but whatever he’d been about to say was interrupted by the arrival of several people eager to talk to him. Then others. More as they wandered through the crowds, taking bites of amazing hors d’oeuvres and sips of champagne, and it was obvious that more than one woman admired her date for the night, and were looking at her with envy, not the other way around, as Rafael had flatteringly predicted.

“Rafael, Gabby, I see my sister nudged you into coming tonight,” James Rothsberg said as he appeared next to them. Held in the curve of his arm was the stunning woman Gabby had recently seen photographed with him in a few tabloid spreads.

“Does Freya ever nudge anyone into anything?” Rafael said with a grin. “Strong-armed is more like it, but I’m glad to be here for such a great cause, and I know Gabriella cares a lot about underprivileged children too.”

“I’m so happy to be helping spread the word about the Bright Hope Clinic,” Gabby said. “Not to mention getting to eat all the wonderful food here tonight.” She stopped there, even though she would have liked to note that Rafael was pretty good at strong-arm tactics himself.

“Freya’s a force of nature, for sure. I’m glad you were able to make it.” James grinned and introduced them to his date, who seemed to study Rafael with extreme interest before glancing at Gabby.

“Such a pretty dress,” she said with what looked like an oddly amused smile, and Gabby froze, wondering if it was obvious she’d made it herself. “Did you choose the color of it to go with your date’s eyes? Quite a striking color.”

Well, that was even worse than noticing it was homemade. Embarrassment streaked through Gabby’s whole body, ending with her cheeks scorching as she realized her dress really was almost exactly the same color as Rafael’s eyes. Would anyone else think she’d done it on purpose, like they were attending a high school homecoming dance together or something? Or, worse, had she chosen the fabric unconsciously thinking of his mesmerizing gaze?

“My goodness, you’re right! I hadn’t even noticed that,” she managed to say, struggling to make her tone sound light and amused too. “My mother drummed into me that people with strawberry blonde hair like hers and mine should wear green whenever possible and avoid red so as not to look like a spark plug.”

“She looks amazing in green, doesn’t she?” Rafael said smoothly, before turning to Gabby. “Though there’s no possibility that tall, slender you could ever resemble a spark plug.”

The seeming sincerity joining the gleam in his eyes made her blush all over again. “Thank you.”

“You probably know how lucky The Hollywood Hills Clinic is to have her running the maternity ward, James. She’s not only a skilled midwife, she has a way with patients that makes every one of them more than glad they’re there. Thanks for giving me the opportunity to work with her.”

“Gabby’s the best. And you’d better not think of stealing her away to some hospital in the Mediterranean when you leave, Rafael, or I’ll have to tell secrets about you that you wouldn’t want shared.”

Obviously just kidding, James’s eyes twinkled as he spoke, but Rafael seemed a little more serious when he looked down at Gabby. “We all have secrets, don’t we? Sometimes sharing them is a good thing, don’t you think?”

Heart skittering, she didn’t answer, wondering what he meant. Could he somehow know about her past and her mistakes?

No. Impossible. Freya knew she’d had a bad breakup before coming to work at the clinic, but not the reason for it, and that was the way Gabby wanted to keep it.

“Sometimes. But usually it’s best to keep our secrets to ourselves.” James’s smile had flatlined too, as he and his date said their goodbyes and went to mingle with the crowd.

“Let’s dance, shall we?”

Oh, goodness. Dance? Close to him? “I don’t think—”

But in typical Rafael fashion he didn’t wait for her to finish her answer before setting his glass on the tray of a passing waiter then wrapping his hand around hers to move to the dance floor. When he turned to face her, his other palm slid from her waist to the small of her back. She slipped her hand up the soft fabric of his jacket to rest it on his shoulder, and her breath caught in her throat as she looked up at him.

The orchestra struck up a new tune, and they began to move. “Thank you for coming with me tonight.”

“Thank you for inviting me. It’s been lovely.”

“Even though you didn’t want to at first?”

“Even though.” She wasn’t about to tell him why, and at the moment that seemed unfathomable. Because being so close to him, with all that heat from his body skimming across her bare arms and décolletage, felt wonderful.

On a slow turn, he brought her close enough that her breasts brushed his chest, and he lowered his mouth closer to her ear. “So why didn’t you want to, Gabriella?”

“Because you’re arrogant and bossy.”

“Yes. Among other things.” The chandelier cast light and shadows across his chiseled face and the bow of his lips as he smiled. “I thought we worked out a few of those issues when we went to dinner together. Which reminds me, I have to tell you something.”

“What?”

His smile had disappeared and when he opened his mouth to answer he hesitated. Then, to her surprise, the words that came out were, “Uh-oh,” and his attention seemed to be grabbed by something behind her.

She turned to see James standing mostly hidden at the back of the room behind the band. With him, instead of his date, was Mila Brightman and even from this distance it was obvious that Mila was hopping mad about something, and giving it to James with both barrels.

“Oh, dear. What do you think is wrong?”

“I don’t know. I hope it’s not— Never mind.” A deep frown creased Rafael’s brow as he shook his head. “I was about to tell you—”

But before he could finish, the band stopped playing and Freya stepped onto the platform to speak into the microphone about the event and why they were all there tonight. After thanking the hosts and giving some details about the Bright Hope Clinic, she advised everyone to enjoy desserts and drinks as there would shortly be a video presentation about some of the patients who’d been helped there.

“I don’t know about you, but I think we’ve done our duty,” Rafael said, leaning close to speak in her ear. “What do you say to a little dine and dash?”

“Dine and dash? Do princes do that? I have to admit the mental image of you gobbling food then furtively sneaking out the door is hard to picture.” Since she hadn’t seen him any way but tall, proud, and very visible, that was an understatement. “But I can’t say I’d complain about leaving soon. I’m about talked out.”

“You know how it is, trying to say goodbyes and exit an event like this. Takes at least another hour, so let’s get the process started.”

She didn’t, really. If she walked out the door that second, she was quite sure not a soul would bother her, but she’d already seen the attention Rafael garnered, and could well believe he’d be stopped by half the crowd en route.

Which was exactly what happened. And each time he was stopped he took pains to draw her into the conversation. Not only did he introduce her to everyone with glowing compliments about her skills as a midwife, stating again how lucky The Hollywood Hills Clinic was to have her, there was something else in his eyes and expression as he did so.

Something that didn’t seem like simple professional admiration. Instead, it felt much more personal.

That odd mix of excitement and dismay rolled around her belly all over again, which was dangerous. Yes, it was a magical night. But she couldn’t let the magic of it allow her to forget. She couldn’t risk a relationship with any man, even one as amazing as Rafael. And, yes, she knew a man like Rafael Moreno would want only a fling, but even that would be too much.

Why was she even thinking he’d want that, anyway? Must be the Cinderella feeling she’d had all evening, wearing a dress far fancier than she’d ever worn before, on a date with pretty much the world’s most handsome bachelor prince. The feel of his big, possessive hand holding hers or resting on her lower back. The compliments. The way he looked at her for long moments as though they were totally alone.

She shook her head fiercely at herself. The man doubtless acted like that with all women at parties, and especially those on a date with him, and to read anything more into it was plain foolish. Probably flirting came to him as naturally as the charm he’d exuded all evening. As naturally as the arrogant rudeness he’d bestowed on her when they’d first met.

Any woman would be intrigued by a multifaceted man like Rafael Moreno. None of it meant a thing—not his flirting and not the googly eyes she caught herself making at him. Tomorrow she’d be wearing her scrubs again, they’d go back to their normal, cordial working relationship and tonight would be forgotten.

Trying to bring her mind back to the conversation, she watched his mouth move as he talked to friends of James he obviously knew, and the sensuality of his lips pretty much obliterated all her previous self-scolding. Her ability to converse. Her thoughts instead drifted to all wrong ones that gave her tummy a different kind of funny feeling. A feeling that she’d give her next paycheck to kiss him once, just to see how it would feel. Just once. Once before the strike of midnight—was that so much to ask?

She stared in fascination as he took a sip of his drink and his tongue licked a tiny drop from his lip. And with breathless certainty she knew. The man would be one amazing kisser.

“You probably agree with that, don’t you, Gabriella?”

Rafael had turned fully to her, the slight curve of his lips fading as their eyes met, and she foggily realized the people he’d been talking to had moved on. Several beats passed as they just stared at one another, and Gabby wished she had some idea how to answer him but had no clue.

His lids lowered slightly, and something hot and alive flickered inside that deep green. “You weren’t listening at all, were you, bella?” He stepped closer, his voice a low rumble. “Something else on your mind?”

Yeah. Oh, yeah, but I’m not saying what. Except she had a bad feeling it was written in red neon on her forehead for him to see anyway. Frantically trying to come up with an answer that wasn’t incriminating, she managed one word. “Sweatpants.”

A slow smile creased his face and made his eyes gleam. “Mine too, Gabriella. Let’s get out of here.”

“I don’t believe you even own sweatpants.”

“Not true. I have all the latest designers’ versions in every color, like any prince should.”

“Now you’re making fun of me. I wasn’t saying you wouldn’t have any because you’re a prince, it’s because...because...oh, never mind.” He might have been saying sweet and complimentary things about her all night, but it still felt strange to tell him what she’d been thinking. Which was that he exuded a regal confidence all too well suited by the tuxedo he wore. Then again, that same presence filled any room he was in at the clinic, even wearing scrubs, so clearly it had nothing to do with what he wore.

Or what he didn’t.

Shocked at the sudden fantasy of what he might look like naked, which she sort of, kind of almost knew, she pinched her lips closed so she wouldn’t say anything completely embarrassing as he opened the car door. So focused on her thoughts and, well, truthfully, on him and his sheer, breathtaking masculinity as he held her hand, she barely noticed the dozens of flashbulbs lighting the night. His big body shielded her from the cameras as he tucked her into his car before sliding into the driver’s seat.

“Seat belt on?” The engine roared to life as he turned the key in the ignition, pausing to look at her with one eyebrow quirked.

“Yes.”

“Good.” The car rolled slowly forward for about ten feet, then took off like a rocket down the curve and onto the main road.