Читать книгу It Happened in Paris... - Robin Gianna - Страница 10

“JUST SO YOU KNOW… it’s really true that I don’t usually do this.” Her pulse and breathing finally slowing to near normal, Avery managed to drag the sheet up to cover her breasts. She glanced over at Jack, whose head lay on the pillow next to hers, eyes closed, looking as sated and satisfied as she felt. She wasn’t sure why the words had tumbled out, but once they had, she wasn’t sorry. She didn’t want Jack to think she routinely picked up men, showed them around, then dove into bed with them.

“Do what?”

The expression on his face was one of bland innocence, completely at odds with the amused glint in the eyes that slowly opened to look at her. She couldn’t help but make an impatient sound. “You know very well what. Sleep with men I’ve just met. Heck, I’ve never even kissed a man I just met.”

He rolled to his side, his warm body pressing against hers. “I believe it was I who kissed you. Figured it was a Parisian tradition. The city of romance and everything. And what’s more romantic than a rainstorm in the shadow of the Eiffel Tower?”

“Well. There is that.” Though she was pretty confident that if it had been any other man she’d invited to breakfast that morning, there wouldn’t have been any kissing on their trek around town or any rolling around in the sheets, complete with a lovely afterglow. And, to her surprise, no feelings of regret at all. Maybe because she knew it would happen just this once.

The moment she’d stepped off the hotel elevator that morning, her attention had gone straight to him like a magnet. Tall, lean and obviously American, with an adorably befuddled expression on his handsome face as he’d spoken to the maître d’, she’d moved toward him without thinking, inviting a stranger for coffee and breakfast as though she did it every day. Which he doubtless assumed she did.

“I hope you’re not regretting it. Our kiss, and now this.” He propped himself up on his elbow and slowly stroked his finger down her cheek. “I know I don’t. Being so close to you under that umbrella, there was no way I could stop myself. And once I’d kissed you, all I could think of was kissing you more.”

No way she could have resisted his kiss, either. Or the bliss that had come afterward. Not that she’d tried at all. “Well,” she said again, as though the word might somehow finalize the whole crazy afternoon, “we’ve shared le petit déjeuner, walked a bit of the city and gone up the tower. Kissed under an umbrella and made love while it rained outside. I guess it’s a good time to find out a little about each other. I hope you’re not married?”

She said it jokingly, but a small part of her suddenly wondered if he possibly could be. If he was the type of man who philandered when working out of town. Her stomach clenched at the thought. After all, she knew that type way more intimately than she wished she did. Would Jack admit it if he was?

“Not married. Never have been. Remember, I told you, all I do is work. Which probably makes me pretty boring.”

Whew. She looked at him carefully and managed to relax. Surely no one could lie about a wife so convincingly. “Don’t worry, you’re not completely boring.” His twinkling dark eyes and devilish smile proved he knew he was darned exciting to be around. “Tell me something else about you. What’s your favorite food? Besides espresso, that is.”

“Sorry, coffee definitely is number one on my list of life’s sustenance. Though I’m sure anything licked from your lips would qualify, too.”

She laughed and shook her head. “I don’t have to ask you about talents, because I already know a few of them. Blarney being one.”

“And my other talents?” His eyes gleamed as his wide hand splayed on her back, pressing her close against him, and the heat of his skin on hers made her short of breath all over again.

“I’m not stroking your ego any bigger than it already is.”

“How about stroking something else, then?”

“Already did that. And I see I’ll have to watch what I say around you.”

He chuckled as he kissed her shoulder, and she found herself thinking about his mouth and those talents of his and wasn’t sure if it was that or his body heat making her feel so overly warm. Again. “So what are your hobbies?” he asked.

“I don’t know if I’d call it a hobby, but I like to run. Helps clear my mind when it gets too busy. And I like marshmallows. A lot.”

“Marshmallows?” He laughed out loud at that. “You’re kidding.”

“Unfortunately, no. I pop the little ones when I’m working on the computer. Which is why I have to run. Don’t want to become a marshmallow.”

“You’re about as far from a marshmallow as anyone could be.” His hand stroked feather-light up her arm and across her chest to slide down the other, making her quiver. “I’d like to run more than just on a treadmill, but my work just doesn’t leave me that kind of time.”

“So what is this work you spend all your time doing?”

“I’m a cardiologist.”

Every muscle froze, and her breath stopped as she stared at him. A cardiologist? Cardiologist? Could this really be happening?

He was probably used to women swooning when he announced that, but not her. She’d worked with more cardiologists than she cared to think about, and being arrogant and egotistical seemed to be a requirement for becoming that kind of specialist. Something she’d allowed herself to forget for too long with her last two boyfriends.

Along with her shock came another, even more chilling thought, which now seemed all too likely since they were staying at the same hotel. Her heart thumped hard in her chest, her body now icy cold as she tugged the sheet up tighter around it. “What’s your last name, Jack?”

“Dunbar.” He smiled, obviously not sensing the neon “oh, crap” vibes she had to be sending off. “I’m working for the next month at the Saint Malo Hospital, testing a new heart-valve replacement device. I’ve worked damned hard to get the design finished and to get the arrangements for the trial finalized. Can’t believe it’s finally about to happen.”

Oh. My. Lord. She couldn’t quite believe it, either. Not the trial starting. This unbelievable coincidence.

How was it possible that the man she’d just slept with was Dr. Jack Dunbar? The Jack Dunbar she’d be working with and observing at the hospital? The Jack Dunbar who was testing the procedure many, including her, hoped would someday always be used, instead of open-heart surgery, to replace faulty heart valves? The Jack Dunbar who had helped develop the next generation of valve replacement catheter based on her original design?

A next generation she feared wasn’t any better, or safer, than her own had been.

And if it became necessary to voice her opinion that the trial should be halted, he wouldn’t feel like kissing her or making love with her again, that was for sure. Not that she planned on more kisses and lovemaking, anyway.

A cardiologist was the absolute last kind of man she wanted in her life. Again.

“How about you?” He lay back, reaching to grasp her hand, his thumb brushing against her skin. Just as it had earlier when they’d been walking in such a lovely, companionable way. This time the feeling it gave her wasn’t electrifying and sweet. The sensation felt more like discomfort and dismay. “So, what kind of last name goes with Avery? And what kind of work brings you to Paris?”

She swallowed hard. “Funny you should ask. My work has a lot to do with your own, Dr. Dunbar.”

“Your work is similar to mine?” Jack asked, obvious surprise etched on his face. “In what way? Are you a doctor?”

“No. I have a doctorate in biomedical engineering.” She left it at that, which was absurd, since it was all going to come out sooner or later, and it might as well be now. Lying naked in bed with him.

That realization had her shaking off her stunned paralysis to leap out of bed and grab up her clothes.

“That’s… impressive.” He propped himself up on his elbow, obviously enjoying the view as she scrambled to get dressed. His dark eyebrows were raised even higher, an expression she was used to seeing when she told people what she did for a living. She was young to be where she was careerwise and being petite made her seem younger still.

“Not really. I just worked hard, like you. Then again, in my experience cardiologists are pretty impressed… with themselves.” And was that an understatement, or what?

“I should be insulted, except it might be true.” He grinned at her. “So what brings you to Paris?”

“Well, as I said, my work has to do with yours.” And could there be a much worse situation? The very first time she had a one-time thing with a man, he turned out to be someone she’d be working with closely.

She still couldn’t quite wrap her brain around this mess. With a nervous laugh threatening, she pulled on her shirt, relieved to be finally clothed. After all, being naked when they made their formal introductions would be all kinds of ridiculous, wouldn’t it?

She smoothed down her clothes and took a deep breath as she turned to him.

“As you know, your company hired the designer of the first valve replacement catheter to come study and observe the trial of your new one. That designer would be me.”

His mouth actually fell open as he stared at her. It seemed he shook his head slightly, and that jittery laugh finally burst out of her throat. Clearly, he was as shocked by this crazy coincidence as she was. Though maybe it wasn’t so crazy or much of a coincidence—after all, the Crilex Corporation was putting them both up at the same hotel where they’d met.

“You can’t be… Dr. Girard,” he said, still wearing an expression of disbelief.

“I am. And I’m equally shocked that you’re Dr. Dunbar.” Awkwardly, she stuck out her hand. “Avery Marie Girard. Nice to meet you.”

That slow, sexy smile she’d found all too attractive throughout the day slipped onto his face again before he laughed. He reached to shake her hand, holding onto it. “It’s an honor, Dr. Girard. Obviously, I’ve read about all you’ve accomplished. Your designs for various medical devices. Studied them for more hours than I care to think about as I worked with engineers to design the one we’ll be testing. I… can’t believe that you’re… her.”

“Because I’m young?” Or more likely because he’d already seen her naked, but maybe she could pretend it hadn’t happened. As though that was possible.

“Because you’re beautiful. And fun. And spontaneous. With silky hair you don’t wear in a bun and crazy, colorful clothes instead of drab gray. Rain boots with ducks instead of orthopedic shoes.” His eyes crinkled at the corners. “I’m obviously guilty of thinking of a very stereotypical brainiac scientist, and those stereotypes don’t include any of the things you are.”

“Jack Dunbar!” She shook her head mockingly, having heard it all before. “You shouldn’t admit any of that. The Society of Women Scientists will publicly flay you if you say that aloud. Maybe mount your head on an energy stick and parade the streets with it, denouncing stereotypes of all kinds.”

“And I’d deserve it.” The eyes that met hers were warm and admiring. That admiration would doubtless change into something else if he knew about her true role in his project. A slightly sick feeling seeped through her. Why, oh, why, hadn’t she learned who he was before she’d slept with him?

“Glad you admit it. Scientists come in all ages, sizes, genders and personalities.”

“You’re right, and I’m sorry.” He got out of the bed as well, and she averted her gaze from his glorious nakedness. “Sounds like you buy into some stereotyping, too, though. That cardiologists are all egotistical and impressed with themselves.”

Guilty. But she had good reason to believe that, and it wasn’t based on a stereotype. It was based on personal experience. And then, today, she’d dived into bed with another one. How stupid could she be? “Let’s agree to set those preconceived ideas aside, shall we?”

“Agreed.” He shook his head as he pulled on his own clothes. “Wow. I’m just blown away by this. I’d been interested in meeting the famous Dr. Girard and pleased to have her participate in the trial with me. Little did I know she’d be an incredible tour guide, have the greenest eyes I’ve ever seen and…” he paused to look at her, speaking in the low, deep rumble that did funny things to her insides “… the sweetest lips on either side of the Atlantic Ocean.”

Oh, my. And his were beyond sweet, as well. “Except you realize this was a bad idea. Now that we know we’ll be working together.”

In fact, he didn’t have any idea exactly how bad an idea it had been.

Robert Timkin, the Crilex CEO, had spun to Jack and everyone else involved that Avery would be there just to observe the trial for her own education. But the company knew she had concerns about the new device and had really hired her to evaluate the data, giving her the power to stop the rollout of the next trials if she thought it necessary.

Jack had worked on designing the new device and organizing the trial for over a year, and he’d doubtless flip out if the data forced her to shut it down.

“Working together.” His warm smile faded and his brows lowered in a frown. “I guess you’re right. That is a problem.”

“It is.” She drew a calming breath. “Listen. This afternoon was wonderful. A lovely day in a wonderful city between two strangers. But now we’re not strangers. And I have to be an objective observer as I gather data on the trial. From now on, we’re just working colleagues, nothing more.”

He stared at her silently for a moment, his expression serious, before he nodded. “You’re right. Business and pleasure never mix well.”

“No. They don’t.” Not to mention that she’d sworn off cardiologists for good.

He stepped forward and pulled her close, pressing his lips to hers in a soft, sweet kiss. Despite her words and thoughts and conviction, she found herself melting into him.

“That was from Jack to Avery. Thank you for an unforgettable day,” he whispered against her lips before he stepped back. “Dr. Dunbar will be meeting Dr. Girard tomorrow in the cath lab as we both concentrate on why we came to Paris. Okay?”

“Okay.”

He dropped one more lingering kiss on her mouth before he picked up her coat and draped it over her arm. She stepped out to the hall and the door clicked quietly behind her. She lifted her fingers to her lips, knowing with certainty this had been the only one-time fling she’d ever have. That she’d savor the memory, and pray that over the next thirty days it didn’t come back to sting her in more ways than one.