“I bought you flowers today. Blue roses to be exact. If anyone should mention it.”
Her chest swelled and delight danced around for a moment, then quickly stalled as she realized he hadn’t purchased flowers for her at all. It was a story they would agree to tell. Would have been nice if he’d actually done it, though.
“Oh. I see.”
“No, you don’t.” He had her attention. “I went to the florist. Wanille, is that her name?”
“Yes.”
“She sprayed some white roses blue. I should have taken a picture.” Doug spoke as if he were thinking out loud, and he studied the tablecloth instead of looking at her.
“Wait. I’m confused. You actually bought flowers?”
“Yes. But I knew you wouldn’t want them, so I gave them away.”
What?
“Maybe you should start at the beginning. The part that starts with why you bought me flowers and didn’t give them to me.”
“Please keep your voice down.”
Was he kidding?
She took a deep, calming breath, remembering she agreed to this charade. She might as well play her part. As soon as he explained exactly what flowers had to do with anything.
“Yes, dear,” she said sweetly, lacing her fingers together, forming a cup for her chin. “Please go on.”
By the tightening of his jaw, she’d struck a nerve. All she had to do now was bat her eyelashes.
“I thought it would be a good way to further gossip. Let people know I had a . . . was seeing someone. Give the illusion of us as a couple. Wanille said your favorite color was blue. I was surprised by that, by the way.” On the last sentence, he held her gaze.
“Oh? Why’s that?”
“I thought all women liked pink?”
“Do I look like a girly-girl to you?” He stared at her with such intensity that heat flooded her chest. Damn, the man could fluster her.
“What happened to these flowers I never got?” This time, she thought his jaw might crack.
“I gave them to one of my patients. Um, I mean, to a man for his wife. They have little, and they’ve been married for years. I swore him to secrecy of course.”
“Aww, that’s so sweet.” She knew he was lying. What she didn’t know was why. Add that to the list of cons for Dr. Baker. The only thing he had on the pro side was his looks.
Their dinner came, and they spent most of the meal in silence. After a few bites, she couldn’t take his tormenting glares.
“You might want to gaze at me with a little less disdain. Anyone watching might get the wrong idea.”
“I didn’t mean to glower. Sometimes I get that expression when I’m thinking.”
“Maybe you shouldn’t think,” she said, giving him a forced smile.
He lifted his wine glass. “How about a toast?”
“Ah, for the spectators.” She picked up her wine goblet and sipped. “What should we drink to? We’ve already sealed this deal.”
“You haven’t told me what you want, yet.”
“I’m working on it.”
Doug’s eyes closed for a few seconds, then opened. A range of emotions flittered through them. Annoyance, one she clearly recognized. Then something closely resembling . . .
She blinked.
“To this evening.”
“Vague enough for me.” She swirled the wine in her glass, wondering how many women had fallen into those bedroom eyes.
“What would you normally talk about on a date?” he asked.
“If this were an actual date, I suppose I would like to know more about the guy.”
“That’s a first,” he said, his eyes glittering under the chandelier.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“A woman wanting to talk about something other than herself.”
“So you think all women are self-centered? That’s rather smug of you. How will I find out what type of person you are if I don’t ask?”
“Hmm,” he murmured, gazing at her over his wine glass. “Don’t you know everything you need to know?”
“I thought we were getting to know each other.” When he remained quiet, she held up her goblet, staring at the light reflecting off the glass. “I’ve had more time to think on the matter. I have no idea why I agreed to this.”
His entire body grew taut. If a strong wind blew in, he might crack. “Have you changed your mind?”
“A little late for that, wouldn’t you say?”
The glint of anger was back. Or was it fear? His brooding frown was difficult to read. With a flick of his hand, he tipped his glass and downed the wine in one gulp.
“We need to talk about something. And if Regina asks, I’ll be able to answer as though I know a bit about you.”
A muscle ticked above his eye. “I’m a doctor. From a prominent hospital.”
“That’s it?” she asked, her ire increasing with his.
“Should I have said an esteemed doctor with a significant bank account?”
It stung that he assumed her no better than a money-hungry woman trying to catch a wealthy man. “Does that make you God or something?”
This date was going downhill fast. She didn’t care.
“Am I supposed to be impressed? Maybe I would be if you had some manners to go along with that trademark you wear, right along with that chip on your shoulder.” She grabbed her purse. “This was a bad idea.” His arm shot across the table before she could stand, gripping hers in a firm hold.
“You agreed,” he said in a harsh whisper.
“It’s not worth putting up with your patronizing attitude. Change it. Or I’m out of here.”
Several seconds ticked by. His fingers loosened, and she wrenched her arm.
“Wait.” His grip tightened.
There was no way she could get out of his grasp without making a scene. Thinking of her options, she remained still, waiting for him to continue. Several expressions crossed his face. Finally his mouth opened.
“Please, don’t leave.”
Had she heard him right? “Please?” She studied him. Anxiety had him in its thrall; perhaps his arrogance stemmed from something much deeper. The “please” falling from his lips and his pleading eyes were what convinced her. Softly, she said, “Let go.”
He hesitated. Then, accepting he had no choice, he released her. She slowly placed her arm in her lap.
“You’re confusing,” he murmured.
“You approached me, remember?” She focused on the arm in her lap, wondering if Doug was a violent man, then dismissed the idea almost as fast as it popped into her head. Of course not. Her wrist didn’t hurt. He wanted her to stay, and, in his own mind, did the only thing that could have stopped her. “If you can be nice to me, I’ll stay.”
“Sounds reasonable,” he grumbled.
The hairs stood on her neck. “Do you want me here or not?”
~ ~ ~
A loaded question. Doug clenched his jaw, unable to answer.
Of course, he wanted her. What normal hot-blooded man would not want the sexy-as-hell woman sitting in front of him? He’d been lusting after her from the first moment he’d seen her at the water fountain. All soft curves, waves of blonde hair, and when she turned to face him fully, he’d damn near swallowed his tongue.
Even now her beauty hypnotized him. She was not only beautiful on the surface, but she had a compassionate quality he wasn’t sure he could believe. He wanted to, badly. He wanted to dig deeper into the mysterious Miss Jones until he found what she hid in her soul. Was Sandi a gem? Or was she the black-hearted woman he rendered her to be?
His brain warred with what he knew, what he’d suffered. Experience taught him not to trust a beautiful woman. Money topped a
female’s list of assets in seeking a potential man. From his observation, women cozied up quicker to a bank account than sentiment.
He’d seen the look on Sandi’s face, watched her as she tried to impress him, batting her eyelashes, stumbling over her words of praise, smoothing her sweater down over her rounded hips. He almost fell for it. Almost.
Doug cleared his throat while getting himself under control.
“Please. Stay.” His voice lowered. Hoping to convince her, he tuned on the charm. “Yes. We can use this time to get to know each other.”
The waiter checked on them and poured more wine. Sandi kept her hands in her lap. He cringed, wondering if he’d hurt her. The waiter left, and Doug had no idea how to proceed with the conversation.
“Shall we continue?” he asked. “Would you like to know my favorite color, my favorite wine?”
“What is it?” she responded in a gentle voice, surprising him.
“Blue, for color.” Maybe she did want to know about him, the man, not the doctor.
“Do you like being a doctor?”
Or not.
Of course, the conversation had to go there. Women just had to ask questions regarding his profession. A man’s livelihood, how he could provide for them.
There he was, assessing again. She had him pegged there. He supposed she deserved some credit for not asking his salary.
“Yes, I do,” he answered honestly.
“How do you like working with Sheldon?”
Sheldon? He didn’t expect that to be her next question.
“Fine. As you probably know, we’re partners now.”
“I guess that means you plan to stay?”
Was she disappointed? Or, perhaps hinting that she preferred he go back to the big city and take her with him?
Could he have one conversation without wanting to question her motives? The woman bewildered him. All he wanted was a nice quiet dinner.
“I see your expression.” Her cute little nose scrunched up with a frown. “Can’t you go five minutes without guessing what I’m up to or if I have designs on you, or an ulterior motive in asking questions?”
Christ. Could the woman read his mind?
“How else am I going to get to know you?” Lifting her glass, she leaned back in her chair and sipped. The woman had fire. And he wanted to tap into it, see if it carried to the bedroom.
Shit. He needed to turn off that line of thinking. Leaning forward, he rested his forearms on the table, a move that would be frowned upon back in his former world.
“Why don’t I ask you some questions?”
“Fire away,” she said with a sexy smile, twisting his insides.
“Who are you?”
The lines between her brows pinched. “Pardon me?”
“Who is the real Sandi Jones?”
She tilted her head, analyzing him. Several moments passed.
“All right. She’s the girl who agreed to help a man who doesn’t deserve it, and she will probably regret her decision, but . . .” She leaned forward, placing her wine on the table. “He can’t be all bad if Regina and Sheldon like him.”
A thrill of satisfaction lit him up on the inside, but he knew better than to show it. “Why did you agree?”
“I just told you. You’re friends with Sheldon. Which makes me think there is more to you than what is visible to me. If you made yourself vulnerable enough to ask for my help, maybe there’s something I haven’t seen.” She looked away and gave a flip of her hand. “I suppose there could be a considerate man in there somewhere.” Her gaze returned to his. “I thought I’d give you a chance to show him to me.”
Her gleam, part mischief and part flirty, communicated more than her words. She liked him? She was willing to give him a chance? How had things gotten turned around? It should be him giving her a chance to convince him of her sincerity. Convince him she wasn’t a bloodsucker.
One look at her exquisite eyes, and he knew better. He watched Sandi with scrutiny, searching , probing for answers. He looked for pity or trickery, but all he found was honesty. His gut twisted with desire. Why couldn’t he let down his guard? Sheldon bragged about Sandi, and Doug didn’t get the idea it was because of Regina. True, Sandi was beautiful. Gorgeous. Sexy as sin. She enflamed his fantasies. But her candor of take-it-or-leave-it punched him in the gut.
His emotions never got the best of him, but damn if this woman wasn’t testing every nerve he had. Before he acted on his craving, he needed to get his mind back on safer ground.
“The practice is smaller than I’m used to. I like the slower pace.” He wished his pulse would slow from its erratic rate.
“Were you the type who got lost in your work and never took a break for yourself?”
He tensed. Exhaustion.
Then, understanding her question for what it was, he released a snort, thinking of how he’d indulged himself with many women: nurses, doctors, pick-ups in bars. Oh yeah, he’d taken time for his needs.
“I’m sorry,” she said during his musing. “I, uh, probably didn’t say that right. I wondered what you did for an outlet. Like maybe golf or fishing.”
“No apology necessary.” Her words called forth fond memories of his brothers. “I have two brothers. One lives in Texas, a director in an oil company, he thinks he’s a cowboy. Big hat, boots and all. When we visit, he thinks we need to ride horses.” Her smile knocked him off center.
“Surely you like horses.”
“Big beasts that make you a—” he coughed. A cripple if your junk got in the way. “Never mind. So, the family descends on my oldest brother, also a doctor, who lives in Washington. The state.”
Their food arrived and the waiter refreshed their drinks, then made sure they had everything they needed. While Doug cut his steak, his belly contracted at hearing a low moan.
“This is delicious.” An expression of pure delight covered Sandi’s face.
His gut did another little twinge, wondering if she would have the same expression while lying under him.
“How’s yours?”
“How’s my what?” With the image of her nude in his bed, he had no idea what she was talking about.
“Your steak.” She pointed with her fork.
He slashed his steak and thrust a chunk into his mouth. “Very good.” Then he tried not to choke from his fantasy. If she had this effect on him now, how would he get through the evening? How would he survive weeks of her alluring body within reach?
“Two brothers. Any sisters?”
Uh, brothers. Yeah.
“No. My mother gave up after three boys. With the hell we raised, she probably was afraid to try for a girl.”
Sandi laughed, a throaty sound that caused his developing erection to harden. Her face lit up with such a glow, he yearned to kiss her. He deliberated on whether or not she might agree to sex becoming part of their deal.
He quickly rejected the idea of even mentioning it. Sandi didn’t seem like the type for casual sex. If they had sex, he wouldn’t be able to keep seeing her. She would consider them an actual item, not a pretend one. Permanency would enter her mind. She’d start making plans, moving in, then wanting to set a date for a wedding.
No. He’d have to break it off and never see her again.
The thought made his stomach clench.
“I can only imagine you as a boy. Three of you.” She shook her head, but the grin on her face made him want to kiss her. He had to stop thinking about sex. His brothers were the perfect topic.
“I was the quiet one. As the youngest, I observed the older two.”
“I’ll bet you did more than observe.”
He laughed. “Oh, I fully participated in a lot of their schemes.”
She took another bite, and he waited for
her to finish.
“Tell me about yourself. Were you born here?”
“I’ve lived in Monterey all my life.” She talked while he ate. “When I was young, my parents took me to Canada. I was about twelve. I thought it was the most beautiful place I’d ever seen. I’m not sure where we were, but the place was overflowing with colorful flowers. Niagara Falls took my breath away. I’d never seen anything like it. I hope to go back someday.”
“I’m sure you will. Do your parents still live here?”
An expression of sadness crossed her face. “My mom had cancer. After that, my dad was so lonesome, I think he died of a broken heart.”
Shit. “I’m sorry. I—”
“That’s okay. It’s been a few years.”
She was not okay. He could kick himself for being an inconsiderate ass. He’d made her remember her sorrow. He racked his brain for something sensible to say, but she saved him from saying anything.
“Now they are together.”
“Do you have any siblings?” he asked, hoping not to tread on another sensitive subject.
“Nope. Just me. But Regina and I are like sisters. We’ve been friends since elementary school.”
“Sheldon and I met in college. Hit it off right away. He’s a good man.”
“He’s good to Regina. She loves him like crazy.”
He’d noticed. Doug caught Sandi’s gaze as he sawed into his steak. “I think it goes both ways.”
“Yeah. They have a good shot at a happy life.”
Their conversation was getting a little too cozy and a little too close to marriage, a subject he avoided at all costs. Although, he would like a shot at a happy life, too.
If only he could find a woman who wanted him.
Chapter 12
The last agent of Real Estate III said good night and went home, leaving Sandi in the office alone. Regina was expecting her and Doug for dinner at eight, giving her an hour to catch up on the bottomless stack of rental agreements.
With Gary out of town, Sandi had spent the entire day rehashing a real estate contract between a seller and one of his buyers. An offer was made, a counter offer, fix this, leave as is, back and forth until she was ready to scream. Maybe the seller did not want to sell his $350,000 home. If he had been her client, she’d tell him to forget it and move on to the next property. Since the owner worked with Gary, she bit her tongue. Now it ached from chewing.
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