“Let’s get some dinner,” he said.
She opened her mouth, but he didn’t give her the chance to protest.
“I owe you,” he said. “It’s the least I can do.”
“Well, since you put it that way…let me call my landlady and ask if it’s OK with her.”
Claire snapped her cellphone closed with a smile on her face. “Now they’re watching a Disney video, and Gina’s already in her pajamas. She’ll be happy to tuck her in bed for me.”
“That’s great.”
A half hour later they were being seated at Aldo’s, his favorite Italian restaurant on State Street. He ordered a bottle of Chianti and, while they waited for their pasta dinner for two, they drank wine and relaxed.
Without her lab jacket on, her peach-colored crinkly top brought out all of the finest aspects of her complexion. Her eyes looked more green than hazel tonight, and she gave him an inquisitive glance as he watched her sip her drink. He’d noticed her mouth on several occasions, but hadn’t allowed himself to study the fullness of her lips. They looked smooth and soft and he wondered what it would be like to kiss them.
The wine had obviously gone right to his head, and when the waiter brought out the fresh baked bread he slathered a piece with butter and took a large bite. Anything to get his mind off her mouth.
“You like to sail?” she asked.
“It’s my passion. Nothing like it in the world. You?”
“I’ve never had the opportunity to try it.”
He told her about the summer he hired on as a deck hand on a schooner and sailed all the way to Hawaii, and how he’d owned his first sloop by the age of twenty-one. It had been a birthday gift from his parents for finishing his pre-med courses a year early. His current schooner, Hanna’s Haven, had been a gift to himself when he’d passed the family practice boards.
He’d wanted to spend his honeymoon sailing around the Caribbean but Jessica hadn’t been a natural born sailor, and they’d flown there instead. He didn’t tell Claire that part of the story and, while he ate more pasta, he pondered how all the roads in his life seemed to lead back to Jessica.
In turn, Claire told him about her upbringing in Los Angeles, how she’d wanted to be a gymnast when she was little, but had grown too tall and had turned out to be a bit clumsy, and since she couldn’t cut it as a gymnast had decided she’d become a nurse. She finished by telling him how she’d gone to Santa Barbara University and could never get herself to move back home after that.
And after a satisfying dinner following a strained and uncomfortable week, they looked at each other in a different light, more on the lines of the prior weekend when they’d forged new ground, established respect for each other, and become unlikely friends.
“You seemed to have a rough week,” Claire said, running her finger around the edge of her almost-empty wine glass.
“I’ve had worse. I’m OK now.”
“If you ever want to talk about it,” she said, “I’d be glad to listen.”
He nodded, feeling the Chianti warm his chest. With his hunger satisfied, and no desire to open up about himself, Jason suggested they walk up the street for ice cream. That way he wouldn’t have to keep gazing into her empathetic, appealing eyes.
“I think after tonight I’ll have made up for all the weight I lost when I was sick,” she said as they strolled.
He glanced from her head to her open-toed shoes. She always painted her toenails, and he liked that. She wore beige slacks instead of her usual skirt or dress and, though a little thin, for the first time he noticed how nicely shaped she was. “That’s not a bad thing, is it?”
Jason knew that figuring out the female psyche and ideal weight was beyond his capabilities, so he trod lightly.
She laughed, and there was that babbling brook image again. He smiled at her, grateful she hadn’t taken offense on any level, and they continued to walk up State Street on the brisk but clear evening.
Maybe tonight, for just one night, he could forget…
Claire glanced at Jason as they ambled up the red-brick walk toward the ice cream store. She’d learned more about him tonight, yet still felt he was mostly a stranger. He never seemed to completely open up, and it made her think he was an emotionally unavailable man. That was the last thing she was looking for. She’d been married to one, and look how horribly that had turned out. She’d never repeat the same mistake.
This was just dinner with a business associate. They’d admitted their patient and had been hungry. It only made sense he’d ask her to eat with him. So why was she making more out of it than it was?
Because the restaurant had been cozy and romantic, with white tablecloths and dim candlelight. Because the conversation had come easy and she’d kept getting lost in his ocean-at-dusk-colored eyes. Because she couldn’t deny it any longer—she was attracted to Jason. He was a skilled and dedicated doctor who loved his patients. Unbeknownst to her, he’d been the force behind the medical group that she’d discovered in the renovated Victorian house, the place where she’d yearned to work. He was kind to her daughter. And he’d proved to be a concerned business partner when he’d gone the extra mile last Friday night to bring her pay check, and he’d surprised her even more with a gourmet breakfast Saturday morning.
Chianti or no Chianti, she found him extremely attractive, even liked the way he talked, with his deeper than average voice. He had a wide smile when he cared to share one with her, and masculine lips, the kind that had made her mind wander to kissing when he’d told her about sailing. She found it fascinating how his beard had darkened as the day progressed into the evening, was glad she’d been around to notice, and surprised to realize she wanted to touch the stubble.
He glanced at her and tilted his head with an inquisitive expression when he realized she’d been studying him. Again.
Thankfully, they’d reached the ice cream store because her line of thinking needed to stop.
“How should we work this?” Jason asked later, after scooping up the last of his ice cream from the small foam cup. “Should I drive you back to the clinic to get your car, or should we buy Gina a mini ice cream and take it right to her?”
“That’s sweet of you, but no. It would just get her all wired. You can take me back to my car. What she doesn’t know won’t hurt her feelings. But thanks for thinking about her.” His small, yet considerate gestures kept adding up, and it made him hard to resist.
Fifteen minutes later he’d parked in the medical clinic lot and something told Claire to be still. Jason didn’t make a move to get out of the car; he stared straight ahead for a few moments, and she could hear each breath he took. Then he turned toward her. “I can’t remember the last time I asked a woman out to dinner.”
She wanted to brush off his statement. To say oh, I’m just a business associate, we were working late and got hungry, but she didn’t want to believe that. And he’d hinted that he’d made a point of asking her to dinner. He didn’t have to. It complicated things, and she opted to keep the mood light by mocking herself.
“I’m glad you did,” she said, “even if I had to go to great lengths to figure out a way to get a patient to take toxic herbs, and get hospitalized, in order to get you to ask me.” She grinned.
He grinned back. “So this was all your devious plan,” he deadpanned.
“Oh, yes. I thought of everything.”
His smile slipped away as his steady gaze melded with hers. “Then I’m glad, too.”
She couldn’t fight the growing attraction, even though it was the last thing in the world she needed right now. She also considered herself good at reading people—a natural ability that she’d enhanced with her homeopathy studies—and, by the look on Jason’s face, he seemed deeply interested in her, too.
He leaned toward her. With the smoky tinge to his eyes, she knew what he planned.
Before she had a chance to think one extra thought, his mouth covered hers. The lips she’d wondered about were warm and smooth,
and they fit perfectly over hers. She relaxed and let him take the lead, enjoying the feel of him. Though waning, the sandalwood scent of his aftershave still invited her closer. He slowly pulled back, but she wanted more. She followed his mouth and pressed her moistened lips to his and, to keep him from retreating more, her hand caressed his jaw and neck. His ear was warm and she finally got to test the stubble on his cheek. She didn’t detect any resistance from him when she kissed him again.
She loved the sounds they made when their lips parted to kiss again and again. He kissed her lower lip, and tugged on it, and sleepy sensations tugged in other areas of her body. His hand found her back and he drew her closer. They breathed over each other; she sighed, and kissed him harder. He deepened the kiss, making it moist and silky. Their tongues met and a tiny sound escaped her throat. He must have liked it. His hand kneaded her back as their tongues continued to test and explore. Her fingers splayed into his hair. It was thick and newly trimmed across his neck. She wanted more kisses and planted several of her own as a sensual awareness started to throb deep within her.
And then he ended it. He abruptly dropped his hand and backed away from her mouth. A complicated expression shadowed his face. Was he appalled by what they’d done, or just not into her?
All she knew was that she missed his warmth. She missed how his barriers had tumbled down as they’d kissed, and how he’d pulled her tight, inviting her to know him a little deeper with each kiss.
But it was over now. He was back to staring out the car windshield, and she felt obligated to say something. She didn’t want to make a single comment about the kisses, preferring to hoard them rather than allow him to steal them back with an apology or an excuse. They were real and they’d felt wonderful. One second he’d been warm and inviting, the next his lips had turned to marble and he’d disappeared.
The kiss probably didn’t mean a thing to him. It was just a bit of extra-curricular activity on his part, and she’d taken it too seriously. It served her right for breaking her own rule about getting involved with a man again. How easily Jason had persuaded her to reconsider that vow.
Claire reached for the door handle and opened the door. “Thank you for dinner, Jason. I really enjoyed myself.” Even after scolding herself, she still hoped he’d hear the double message. How messed up was that?
He turned slowly to face her. Night shadows slanted across his jaw, making it hard for her to read his expression. “You’re welcome,” was all he said, with a distant stare.
Jason watched Claire get into her car; his hands gripped the steering wheel in a lifesaving strangle. What the hell had he done?
He’d come out of hibernation; let his guard down enough to enjoy Claire’s company. He’d noticed her sensual mouth, enjoyed every second of their shared kisses, discovered he wanted to ravage her, then the dark thoughts had returned. How could he be unfaithful to Jessica? To this day, her memory wouldn’t let go of him. And his guilt would never let him forget.
Claire had managed to find the dwindling spring of life at the bottom of his well. He’d been bone-dry until then, and she’d tapped into what was left of him. Made him feel almost human again. He’d wanted more; had that been so awful?
He was supposed to have been with Jessica and Hanna the day of the accident, but the new medical clinic had delayed him. Go ahead, he’d said over the cellphone. I’ll drive up later and meet you there. They’d planned a weekend in Pismo Beach.
He didn’t deserve to be alive, or to feel, or to enjoy anything.
He wouldn’t slip up again.
CHAPTER FIVE
MONDAY morning, Claire and René had the medical clinic kitchen to themselves.
René poured herself a large cup of coffee; her full-bodied auburn hair was styled in layers and rested on the white of her doctor’s coat, and Claire admired how she always looked perfectly put together. She’d alluded to Jason’s troubled past in prior conversations, and after Claire had fruitlessly racked her brain all weekend over the cause of Jason’s odd behavior, she needed some answers.
Her divorce had left her wary of men, and maybe the same had happened to Jason, though he never made reference to his ex-wife, as most divorced men did.
They’d had a great dinner together, she’d realized how much she liked him, and he’d kissed her. Then he’d stopped. From one moment to the next, things had changed. Was she a bad kisser? Or had Jason had a sudden change of heart about her?
Something had kept Claire from writing Jason off as another of life’s disappointments wrapped in a male package. She needed to know the whole story before she did that. She sat beside René and dipped her tea ball in the steaming mug of water.
“You have a minute?” she asked.
“Of course. What’s up?” René’s amber-brown eyes reminded her of a cat’s.
“I can’t figure Jason out. He’s a grouch one minute, kind the next. Did you know that he brought me soup and my pay check when I was sick?”
René’s perfectly made-up eyes widened and her brows rose halfway up her forehead. “Jason brought you soup?”
Claire nodded, with a wan smile at the memory. The man thoroughly confused her.
“He did seem to ask a lot of questions about where you were and what was wrong when you were out sick.”
The notion of Jason worrying about her caused a warm sensation in her chest.
René tilted her head in thought. After several moments and a sip of coffee, she looked Claire in the eyes. “Jason used to be the life of the party. He had more charm than the President,” she said. “His family is filthy rich, in case you didn’t know, and he never wanted for anything. He was a devoted family man. Completely content. And a great doctor. Still is a great doctor, just a little less accessible on the personal level.” René glanced at Claire with a rueful expression.
“Did he get divorced?”
René shook her head. “These days, he’s just doing the best he can.” She looked as if she wanted to say more, but before she could her nurse stuck her head around the door.
“Dr. Munroe? Mrs. Callahan is on the phone. She thinks she’s in labor.”
René popped up from her chair. “Looks like my day has officially begun. We’ll talk more later.”
Claire shook her head. If he wasn’t divorced, then what was he?
She’d give Jason some space for now but, having recently been introduced to his passion for the sea, she couldn’t let him continue to sail at half mast. He needed a friend. And if they were going to be friends, he needed to talk. She shook her head, knowing there was no way she could force him to open up and talk. The man was so closed off; he’d probably never bring the subject up. But he’d shown early signs of life at dinner the other night, and there had been passion in his kiss. And she did owe him a dinner.
A relationship was probably the last thing he needed. Or wanted. Come to think of it, it was the last thing she needed, too. They could be friends, and together, as friends, they might find a place for him to begin to live again.
And if she were lucky, through that friendship, maybe she could learn to trust again, too.
After a few more moments lost in thought, Claire scrubbed her face with her palms, finished her tea, and set off for her first physical exam of the day.
Breaking through to Jason and becoming his friend seemed too much to ask for, but she’d never shied away from challenges in her life. Why start now?
As the morning wore on Claire’s insecurity got the best of her. How was she supposed to go about this? Hi, I’m Claire. Can I be your friend because I think you need one, and I have the audacity to think I can help you? Ridiculous. She couldn’t even help herself get over her lack of trust. What made her think she could offer Jason anything?
She wound up being a coward and avoided him the rest of the morning.
He’d made it easy by staying in his office with his door closed in between patients. She kicked herself for not having any guts, but just before the end of the morning clinic,
she had a perfect excuse to tap on his door.
But Jason’s door was open, and she needed to borrow his more up-to-date drug formulary, so she went inside. She glanced around the bookcase to locate the bright orange 2010 handbook, when her gaze settled on a small picture. A lovely dark-haired woman and a little girl with impish eyes smiled out at her from the delicate frame. They had to be the family René had referred to.
What had happened?
Jason barreled into the room and tossed some paperwork on his desk. Startled, Claire almost dropped the picture.
“Oh,” she said. “I was just looking for your drug formulary.”
“And you decided to snoop while you were in the neighborhood?” He pinned her with an accusatory glare.
“I’m sorry, Jason. I just happened to notice this lovely picture and…”
He walked to another bookcase across from his desk and flipped out the item in question. “Is this what you’re looking for?”
At a total loss for what else to say, she nodded. “Yes. Thank you.” She took the book and retreated to her office, feeling humiliated and angry, and avoided Jason the rest of the afternoon. The man’s barriers were thicker than steel trapdoors.
Frustrated by an afternoon that had seemed to yawn on, Claire arrived home with a bag of groceries and Gina in tow to find a message on her answering machine from her landlady, Mrs. Densmore.
“Claire, I’m not doing well. Can you check in on me?”
A chill cut through Claire. Mrs. Densmore never complained about anything. Though frail, she was still one of those robust North-eastern transplants who laughed at the spoiled mild climate residents of California, and who could be seen gardening in the foulest coastal weather. Her violet-colored hydrangeas, lipstick-red hibiscus, and cross-bred multi-colored roses were proof positive of her green thumb. She walked daily with a fancy carved walking stick, and scoffed at people who rushed to the doctor for little problems. Only something major would cause her to ask for help.
The Boss and Nurse Albright Page 7
