That was too bad.
* * *
Until last night Camille hadn’t known Ben McKnight existed and now she wondered how he could have been staying in her hotel without her being aware. He was tall, funny and as good-looking as any man she’d met in L.A. or New York, and she’d met a lot of men, according to every rag sheet tabloid paper on the planet.
Now Dr. Ben McKnight was having dinner in the Blackwater Lake Lodge restaurant where she was filling in as hostess. The last one had quit and it was hard to run a five-star establishment without a greeter and seater. Hopefully the interviews she had tomorrow would be productive. Fortunately it was Sunday and not busy. At least it hadn’t been until Doctor Do-Good had arrived and asked for a table by himself.
Since then at least four women, two from the lodge staff and two civilians, had come in, sat with him, written something down on a small piece of paper, then handed it to him. Since they were small scraps of paper, she was pretty sure the information wasn’t their medical history.
At the moment he was sitting by himself and the place was practically empty except for a couple lingering over coffee and dessert at their table near the stone fireplace.
Cam just couldn’t stop herself. She strolled over to where she’d seated him a little while ago and smiled. “Did you enjoy your dinner, Doctor?”
Ben nodded. “I did. The food here is excellent.”
“Amanda will appreciate hearing that. She’s the chef.” And someone Cam had coaxed here from New York. The plan was to prove herself in six months and the two of them would get their pick of prime assignments in one of the Halliday Hospitality Corporation’s other properties. “Can I get you something from the bar?”
“No, thanks. I’m on call for the clinic.”
“Are you expecting broken bones tonight?”
“Mercy Medical Clinic docs rotate the responsibility of being available to triage emergency calls.”
“Excuse me?”
“We take information and decide if the patient on the phone needs to see a doctor and which one could best take care of them. If it’s an orthopedic problem, I’m their guy. Otherwise Adam Stone, the family practice specialist, is up.”
Cam was “up” all day and night here at the lodge. It wasn’t the same as life and death, but she had to be available to deal with any crisis situation. Her performance was being evaluated, and Dean Halliday, her father and president of Halliday Hospitality, didn’t grade on a curve.
“Maybe dessert and coffee?” she suggested. “I happen to know the chef makes the best seven-layer chocolate cake in Montana.”
“Is that a fact?” Dark brown eyes teased and taunted.
“Slight exaggeration. But if it’s not the best you’ve tasted in Blackwater Lake, this meal is on the house.”
“Can you afford to take the chance, what with losing money and all? Or,” he added, “I could lie just to get the meal comped.”
“You could.”
It wouldn’t be the first time a man had lied and taken advantage of her, but she’d been younger then. Naive. Vulnerable. All of that was a pretty way of saying she’d been stupid and her judgment about men sucked. But she was going to prove herself here in this little backwater town or die trying.
She gave him her best smile, the one that showed off her dimples. “But if you don’t tell the truth, we’ll both know.”
“You’re on.” He laughed and showed off his own considerable charms.
His teeth were very white and practically perfect. The pretty people she’d once counted as her closest friends all had cosmetic work to make their smiles perfect, but Ben’s looked like nothing more than good genes. There were streaks in his brown hair that came from the sun and not a bottle at the salon and the bump in his nose kept him from being too pretty. He had a natural ruggedness about him that had nothing to do with acting technique and everything to do with being a manly man. Again with the good genes.
Cam had promised herself after a teenage run-in with police that she’d never again do anything she’d regret. Last night she broke that pledge. She regretted not letting Dr. Ben McKnight examine her foot. Not because she needed anything more medical than an aspirin and a bag of frozen peas for swelling, but simply to feel his big, competent hands on her leg.
Focus, she told herself. Glancing around, she saw Jenny, the lone waitress tonight, and signaled her over. The server shot her a dirty look, then moved to the table and smiled warmly at the doctor.
“What can I get you, Dr. McKnight?”
“Miss Halliday has talked me into a cup of coffee and a piece of Montana’s best chocolate cake.”
“Excellent choice,” Jen said. “I’ll bring it right out.”
“I should walk back and get it myself,” he said. “It’s going to add an extra mile to my run in the morning.”
“You look fine to me.” Jenny smiled and there was definite flirtatious eyelash-batting going on.
Cam held in a sigh and made a mental note to add an item to the staff meeting agenda. Friendly, but not too friendly. It was a fine line.
She looked down at the customer and gave him her professional, but not too friendly smile. “You may have to run an extra mile, but I promise the cake will be worth it.” Then she turned away.
“You’re leaving?”
“I have work to do.”
“Is the place that busy? Can you keep me company?”
“From what I saw you had plenty of company during dinner, Doctor.”
He shrugged. “People in Blackwater Lake are friendly.”
“Is it just me or merely a coincidence that all those friendly Blackwater Lake people were of the female persuasion?”
“Are you jealous, Miss Halliday?”
“What if I were, Dr. McKnight?”
“I’d be flattered,” he said.
“And I’d have a target on my back. Enjoy your dessert,” she said, turning away.
“Whoa, not so fast, Cam. Do you mind if I call you that?” Without waiting for an answer he pointed to the chair at a right angle to his. “It’s just plain mean to make a cryptic remark like that, then walk away.”
“I have no reason to stay.”
“Aren’t you supposed to be friendly to your guests?” he asked.
“The first rule of hospitality,” she confirmed. “And I have been. But there’s a line that shouldn’t be crossed.”
“Isn’t the customer always right?”
“Yes, but—”
“So, sit. Take a load off that foot.” He looked down at her legs in four-inch heels. “Nice shoes. How is the foot, by the way?”
“Fine.” She didn’t take him up on the offer to sit because that wasn’t professional. But she didn’t leave, either.
“Tell me about the target on your back.”
“Obviously you were smart enough to pass medical school. Do you really not get it?” That was tough to believe. A man as good-looking as he had to have had opportunities. He’d probably left this small town for college a naive guy of eighteen, but surely he’d been around the block a time or two since then. “You’re quite a catch.”
“What am I? A fish?” The twinkle in his eyes said he knew where this was going and wasn’t the least offended.
That was fortunate because in the hospitality game one always aimed to please. “You’re a doctor and not hard on the eyes—”
“Did you just say I’m cute?”
“I said the women in this tiny little town might perceive you that way and you probably make a decent living as a doctor.”
“Are you asking?” He rested his forearms on the white-cloth-covered table.
“I’m not interested. But clearly a number of women are. A single guy—” She stopped as a thought struck her. “You aren’t married, are you?”
“Nope.”
“Divorced?”
“One would have to have been married for that to be the case.”
“So you’ve never been married.”
Before Camille could continue the line of questioning, Jenny brought over his cake and the assistant waiter delivered a saucer and cup, then filled it with coffee.
“Anything else I can do for you?” Jenny asked.
“No. But thanks.” Ben gave her a smile.
The waitress returned it and moved behind him where she leveled Cam with a look that if it could kill would render her a rust-colored stain on the floor.
Ben forked off a piece of cake then put it in his mouth, his eyes never leaving hers. After chewing and swallowing, the sound of pleasure he made was almost sexual. Since her January arrival in this state that was so close to Canada, she’d never once been too warm. Not until now. And she very much wanted to fan herself.
Steady, girl. What were they talking about? Oh, right. He’d never been married.
“What’s wrong with you?” she asked.
“Excuse me? I believe I just proved your point about this being the best cake in Montana.”
“I’m not talking cake.” She folded her arms over her chest. “You’re handsome, smart, a doctor who returned to his hometown to practice medicine. Approximately thirty-five—”
“Close,” he confirmed. “Thirty-four.”
“Apparently I’m out of practice. And don’t interrupt me. I’m on a roll. You’re thirty-four, not married and never been married. What’s wrong with you?”
“Am I gay, you mean?”
“That’s not what I asked, but—”
“No. I’m not.”
“That’s a relief.” She realized that thought hadn’t stayed in her head and added, “I mean, for the single women in Blackwater Lake who went to all the trouble of giving you their phone numbers.”
“How do you know that?”
“I’ve been watching them hand you slips of paper too small to be a résumé or autobiographical novel. And I did catch a glimpse of numbers.”
“You’re very observant.”
“Attention to detail is the hallmark of the hospitality business,” she said, irritated at how much she sounded like her father. “So, how does someone who looks so good on paper escape personal entanglements unscathed?”
The twinkle in his eyes vanished and the warm cocoa color turned almost black. “Who says I did?”
“So you have a story.” It wasn’t a question.
“Doesn’t everyone? You go first.”
“Nice try.” She shook her head.
If he was curious he could just Google her. There was plenty documented on the internet that she’d never live down no matter how hard she tried. Or he could ask the hotel staff. They’d be happy to share.
And judge. The employees had made up their minds about her based on tabloid stories and entertainment gossip. They’d decided she was too shallow, too spoiled, too short and too blonde to be taken seriously.
Why should Ben McKnight be any different?
Chapter Two
“I don’t think it’s broken, but I’ll know for sure after I look at the X-ray.”
“The garage is really busy right now so I’m holding you to that not-broken thing.”
Ben hadn’t expected to start the week treating anyone in his family, but he had been wrong. Sydney McKnight sat on the paper-covered exam table cradling her right hand. His little sister was a pretty, brown-eyed brunette who loved fixing cars as much as he liked fixing people. As a little girl she’d followed their father around McKnight’s Automotive and learned from the best mechanic in Montana.
“You know,” he said, “if you wanted some big brother time, we could have done lunch. It would have been a lot less painful for you.”
“Not if you made me buy.” She winced as he probed the swelling. “In my opinion, what this clinic really needs is a neurologist. You need to have your head examined, find out why it’s so big.”
“Seriously, Syd. This is nasty. What happened?”
“An accident at the garage.” She shrugged. “There was a wrench involved. My hand slipped. Occupational hazard.”
“And aren’t you lucky big brother the doctor is back to take care of you?”
“We’ve done all right.”
Without you, he thought. Ben knew she hadn’t meant to make him feel guilty for leaving, but he did anyway. His father had encouraged him to do what was necessary for his future the same way he’d nurtured Sydney’s love affair with cars. Eventually Ben had gone, but now he was back. Where he wanted to be.
The exam room door opened and nurse Ginny Irwin walked in. She was in her late fifties and had blue eyes that missed nothing. Her silver hair was cut in a short, no-fuss style. It suited her no-nonsense attitude.
“Hey, Syd,” she said.
“Hi, Ginny.” His sister started to lift her hand in greeting, then winced and lowered it.
“I’ve emailed the X-rays to the radiologist at the hospital and it will be a while before we get the report. But here are the films, Ben.” Ginny had known him since he was a kid and didn’t feel the need to address him as Doctor.
He liked that. Adding Doctor to his name didn’t make him a better medical practitioner. No polite protocols or assembly-line medicine, just solid personal care to, sometimes literally, get people back on their feet.
“Let’s take a look.” He put the films on the lighted view box. He wasn’t a radiologist, but in his expert opinion there was no break, although he took his time studying all the small bones, just to be sure.
“Don’t keep me in suspense,” Syd said.
“I have to look at the full range of densities. It can go from white to black and I need to evaluate the contrast ratio for a diagnosis.”
“Please don’t go all medical techno-speak on me,” Sydney begged.
“It’s not broken.”
“Good.” Ginny almost smiled, then looked sternly at the patient. “I don’t want to see you back in here, Sydney Marie.”
“Yes, ma’am. I’d salute, but this Pillsbury Doughboy hand would just punish me.”
“In so many ways. Take care,” Ginny said, just before slipping out the door.
“She scares me,” his sister said. “So I’ll ask you. Can I go back to work?”
“Really?” He folded his arms over his chest. “I’m the weak link? Do we need to get Ginny back in here to keep you in line, Sydney Marie?”
“I’m happy to stay in line if you’ll just tell me what I have to do so I can get back to work.”
“Take the rest of the day off. Use ice and over-the-counter pain meds. When the swelling goes down you can work.”
“That’s it? You’re not going to do anything? No quick fix? What kind of doctor are you?”
“The kind who replaces hips and fixes broken bones, sometimes with surgery. I have a piece of paper that says it’s okay for me to do that.”
“Just asking. I guess you’ll come in handy for water- and snow-skiing seasons.” She settled her injured hand on her thigh. “Speaking of that...how do you like living at Blackwater Lake Lodge?”
The mention of his living arrangement turned his thoughts to the lady who was in charge of the place where he lived. This wasn’t the first time she’d crossed his mind and every time it happened, the thought was followed by a vague regret that she wouldn’t be around very long.
“Did I say something wrong?” Syd’s eyes narrowed.
“What? No. Why?”
“You look funny.”
“Define funny,” he said.
“I don’t know. Sort of goofy. Sappy. Like you walked down the hall at Blackwater Lake High and saw the girl you had a crush on.”
“Interesting diagnosis, Doctor.”
“Am I right about a woman being involved?” she persisted.
“Yes.”
“I’d clap my hands in excitement, but...” She looked ruefully at the puffy extremity. “Who is she? Anyone I know?”
“Do you know Camille Halliday?”
“Everyone knows her.” Syd’s expression said it wasn’t in a good way. “She’s the hotel heir
ess.”
“I know. Met her Saturday.” And he’d seen her again at dinner last night. He wondered if she was having another bad day.
“Are you aware that she has a certain reputation?”
“What kind of rep?”
“Partying. Hanging with a wild crowd. Name always in the paper and not for sending mosquito nets to Africa to wipe out malaria. She even went to jail. Although they let her out early.”
“Good behavior?”
“Overcrowding,” Syd answered. “You didn’t know about this stuff?”
“No.”
“Have you been living under a rock?”
Sort of. “Las Vegas is surrounded by rocky mountains and rocks are frequently used for landscaping, what with water being scarce in the desert. But none of that qualifies as living under one.”
Unless you counted working too hard to think about anything else. Now he had time to wonder about Camille Halliday. What his sister just said didn’t fit the ambitious, hardworking woman he’d met. “Was this jail thing recent?”
“No. She was in her teens.”
Ah. “And where did you get all this unimpeachable information?”
“The tabloids.” Syd grinned shamelessly. “I love to read them. A guilty pleasure.”
“Then here’s a headline for you. Don’t believe everything you read.” He slid his fingers into the pockets of his white lab coat. “I found Cam to be bright, funny, focused and a serious businesswoman. Sexy, too.”
His sister’s eyes narrowed. “Do you have the hots for her?”
No. Maybe. Irrelevant. “She’s got her sights set on bigger and better things. Blackwater Lake Lodge is where she’s proving herself. She can’t wait to move up the career ladder, preferably to a city with a more impressive population.”
Syd’s dark eyes gleamed with plans he knew he wouldn’t like. “That’s a relief.”
“Why?”
“Here’s the thing. You’re not getting any younger, Ben.”
“Yeah. I think they taught us that in med school,” he said dryly.
“No. Seriously. You should think about settling down.”
“I’m building a house. Doesn’t that count?”
“Good start.” She shifted her tush on the table and the disposable paper rustled. “You should think about a woman to go along with it. And I just happen to have some suggestions.”
The Doctor's Dating Bargain Page 2
