She nodded, but didn't add any more 'ands'.
"That's what I thought." Frustration rocketed through him and he cursed. "But you're wrong!"
"I don't walk in anyone else's moccasins, Cole."
He sprang from the chair. "I won't let you do this! You're trying to tell me what I think, how I feel. But you don't know, Destiny. I know. I'm the only person who can know..."
In his fury, he had advanced on her, trapping her between him and the wall, his anger swept away by the sudden tingling awareness of her body inches from his. Her scent tantalized and teased. "Oh God, Destiny... Don’t do this to me – to us."
He wrapped her in his arms before he could stop himself, smothering her protest with hungry lips, teasing hers apart. His pulse quickened as she melted against him.
"Oh, Cole." Her voice mirrored his own anguish at their time apart.
“God, I’ve missed you!" he murmured and captured her mouth again.”
But she pushed out of his arms, her expression dazed, unhappy. “No, Cole. You miss Lanni. I– I can't be her.”
"Destiny..."
"I can only be me, Cole. But that's not who you want. Please, just go."
“You don’t understand. I– ”
“I understand perfectly. Please, go.”
Her resolute expression told him she wasn’t going to change her mind anytime soon. He grabbed his jacket. "I'll go. But you're dead wrong." He stalked to the door, wishing he hadn’t put it quite that way. "When you realize that, I'll still be around. But if you want me, you'll have to do the asking." Loud and clear.
Chapter Eleven
"Trick or treat!"
More kids. Destiny yanked open the door and thrust out the bowl of candy, too miserable to fake a smile for the munchkins. Especially the ones who made her think of Kayla. Was Cole making the rounds with Kayla? she wondered. Or did the school have a Halloween party – where he'd naturally see Sylvia? Would he seek solace with that gorgeous redhead?
Frowning, Destiny shoved the thought aside. Cole was not Web Baker, and if he did go looking for love in Sylvia's slender arms, it was Destiny's own fault.
As she closed the door on the last tricker-or-treater and readied for work, she tried once again to convince herself she'd made the right decision. But all she knew for sure was that her head and her heart were at war, neither winning.
The next week was the worst she could ever remember. She snapped at everyone, or said nothing. The day before the big Bachelor Auction, Web told her point blank to adjust her attitude. He also told her that all hospital staff not working were expected to attend the fund raiser. Darn it!
"Believe me, sitting around your apartment moping is not the answer!" Fran said firmly as she held up a long red strapless gown for Destiny's disinterested inspection. "Web's offered to play escort. No funny business, he promised. Now, you have to do your part to support the hospital, and help drive those prices up. This is Grade A prime beef we're talking here, Honey. You don't want to miss it."
After feeling numb for seven days, Fran's humor was just what she needed to put Cole from her thoughts. Maybe this so-called shindig would help. "Long as Cole's not going to be there," she reiterated.
Fran lifted her eyebrows. "You kidding? He never attended before he was married. And he hasn't since his wife – well, you know. Believe me, with some of the disastrous dates he's had..." She chuckled.
Destiny promised herself she'd forget him – at least for tonight.
Squirming into the dress was a workout. Fran zipped it up. It fit like a surgeon's glove.
Surgeon?
Heart surgeon?
Criminy coyote, her brain wouldn't let up. "I don't feel like a party," she muttered.
Fran swept Destiny's hair up into a french roll. "You will. Just give yourself a chance." She dabbed perfume on Destiny's shoulders, then stood back, a smug smile on her face.
Destiny fidgeted. She favored casual clothes. This dress was movie-star glamorous and so tight she felt like she was wrapped in an ace bandage. "I thought you said this would be easy to move around in, I can hardly breathe. What in the world do you call this material?"
Fran was standing between Destiny and the mirror. Every time Destiny moved, trying to see around her, Fran moved, too, blocking her view. Fran’s eyes twinkled merrily. "I don't know about the fabric, but I call it my 'coming out' dress."
"You were a debutante?" Destiny immediately regretted the surprise in her voice, but Fran howled with laughter as she stepped aside, allowing Destiny's first look in the mirror. "Criminy coyote!"
"Behold, my dear sweet Destiny. That's why I call it my 'coming out' dress."
Without amusement, Destiny watched the flush wash across her own cheeks in the reflection. It spread down her neck, coloring her collarbone, and continuing down. It had a long way to go. The dress barely covered her breasts, dipping even lower in the valley between. If she took a deep breath...
"I wouldn't bend over too far," Fran advised in mock seriousness.
Destiny was fascinated by the image in the mirror, the bright crimson of her own skin.
And there was so much of it!
The dress looked painted on. Light bounced off in such a way that it spotlighted her every curve. "I can't wear this," she stammered, secretly pleased by what the mirror told her, giving silent thanks for good genes.
"No one can wear it better," quipped Fran. "So don't be a spoilsport. Every man in the place will be dying for your bid, my dear."
There was only one man Destiny wanted to bid on. And she’d been told he wouldn't be there. She studied the mirror again. Jake would definitely disapprove. Paiute women had always been known for their modesty. But tonight she was dressed for a world of concrete and mirrors.
She felt herself yielding. Perhaps a little masculine admiration was just what she needed to put Cole out of her mind.
Fran slipped a flashy gemstone necklace around Destiny's neck and fastened it. "Now for the shoes." She pulled out a pair of red satin slippers with rhinestones on the toes. "Size seven and a half. Only worn once – along with the dress."
Destiny accepted one shoe and slipped it on. It also fit like a glove. She'd kick them off as soon as she sat down.
If she could sit.
She eyed Fran's billowing caftan of iridescent blue silk that floated from her neck to her ankles. "Why aren't you wearing this get-up?" she demanded.
"You kidding? My figure spread out last year with my fortieth birthday – can't even blame it on childbearing. You don't know how lucky you are!"
The mention of children made Destiny think of Kayla. Should she call her, try to explain? No, that would only make things worse. Besides, Cole was bound to answer the phone.
"Yoo-hoo." Fran snapped her fingers, dragging Destiny back to the event at hand. "Time to go, Scarlet Woman. I saw Web's Mercedes pull up out front."
Destiny slipped on the other satin shoe. Right on cue, a knock sounded on the door. Taking the tiniest steps she'd ever taken in her life, she minced across the room to the door and pulled it open.
“Zowie!” Web yelped, eyes wide
“Zowie, yourself,” Destiny quipped. "Boy, Web, you sure know how to dress for a party." He was decked out in a burgundy tux which looked custom made. His blond hair gleamed, his brilliant smile flashing with charm.
"Black tie only," he said, eyes twinkling with pleasure. "Besides, there's a bet going round on who will pull the top bid."
"And what kind of weekend rendezvous do you have planned for your date?" Fran asked as she led the way down the stairs.
"Don't answer that!" Destiny ordered before he could scorch their ears with some outlandish retort.
His answering chuckle prompted Fran to arch an inquisitive eyebrow. "Must be a doozie."
He unlocked the car. "I'm borrowing a friend's plane, flying the lucky lady to Aspen. Booked a nice little condo. Great view. Fireplace."
Destiny ignored the flash of disappointment in his eyes when she
chose to sit in the back seat, giving Fran the front.
The red dress clung--everywhere – hampering her entry. It was like a second skin. Maybe she wouldn't sit down at the auction, she thought, trying to tug it into showing less leg. "Where is this scandalous auction being held,” Destiny asked. “The Community Center?"
They turned north on Highway 395. "The Atlantis."
"You mean in Reno?!" Thirty-five miles away! Her last hope that Cole might decide to show up withered. She silently admonished herself for her hope – she'd called a halt to the relationship, not him.
"We have to go where the high-rollers are throwing their money around. Besides, Carson doesn't have a facility fancy enough for this many-splendored evening."
He gave her a wink by way of the rearview mirror, broke into a loud, nasal, auctioneer's spiel, immediately shattering any impression that he was serious. "...and what am I offered for this next hunk, ladies... Hey, you in the beaded loincloth, get back in line. Stop with the free samples already. That young lady will have to ante up her money like everyone else..."
Fran doubled over with laughter and Destiny felt her mood lift. Web was too much. Perhaps the night would turn out to be fun, after all.
Thirty minutes later, they pulled up in front of the Atlantis's towering, eighteen-story glass facade. Web had kept them in stitches the entire drive.
With Destiny on one arm, Fran on the other, they swept across polished black marble into the lobby toward the atrium and a trio of glass elevators, capsule-shaped pods girded with gaudy red and purple neon, visible through the hotel’s multi-storied windows. "Every guy in the place will eat his heart out," Web said, mischief in his eyes.
"Pretty classy," chirped Fran, admiring their surroundings.
"From the high desert to the South Seas in the blink of an eye," he replied, calling attention to the thatched roof above the registration desk, and to a colorful waterfall which splashed alongside. Throughout the hotel, any floor space not occupied by slot machines or needed for aisles was crowded with lush greenery and tropical flowers. "Nothing like this on the reservation, I bet."
Web was clearly in his element, but Destiny cast a critical eye at the crush of gamblers perched on tall white rattan stools. The flashy gaming equipment completely overpowered the muted green-and-burgundy decor.
Lights of the entire city spread out at her feet as the elevator whisked them silently upward. As they stepped out of the elevator, Destiny's heels sank in plush carpet. "Pretty ritzy," she murmured.
Fran frowned at their reflection in the mirrored corridor. "Got to make a pit-stop," she mumbled, disengaging from Web to disappear behind a decorated door.
Further down the hall, through an entrance to the ballroom, Destiny saw the richly festooned auction block, decorated in crimson velvet and glitter. Beside it, a group of musicians lounged beside their chairs and waiting instruments – violins, a sax, and a grand piano – taking a break.
"Would you like a drink?" Web asked, guiding her into the crowded room, his gaze dipping to her decolletage, then returning to her face. "I could sure use one."
She felt ill at ease, aware of the whispers sparked by their entrance, uncomfortable with the attention – as well as with what she saw in Web's eyes. "Soda with a twist of lime, thanks."
She sighed with relief as he crossed the room to the bar. How long did she have to stay? She'd brought money to take a taxi...
Darn, what if it wasn't enough to cover the thirty-five mile fare from Reno to Carson City, then what?
Fran had said she'd be going home with her "bachelor." Destiny didn't want Web to drive her home. She'd be a third wheel to his date, or worse, be alone with him. He wasn't one to give up the chase. But what else could she do? Walk from wherever forty dollars took her?
“Cole!” Fran's voice carried from the doorway. "Well this is a surprise!"
In disbelief, Destiny whirled. It was Cole, all right, decked out in a black tux. He paused and spoke to Fran, his voice low, polite, and – and that redhead, Sylvia, hung on his arm! Dressed in pink chiffon, she looked soft and innocent. And absolutely gorgeous.
Cole had yet to give a glance to the gathering. Maybe she could still get away before he spotted her. She edged toward the wall, cursing the restrictive dress, the high heels – and the curious absence of a potted plant behind which to disappear.
In the corner, the band ran through a few quick notes. Cole's gaze drifted to them, sliding past her, then cut back, his surprise apparent in the way he gaped. Beneath her ridiculous red dress, Destiny’s heart lurched. She’d bet her forty dollars that Lanni had never worn such a scandalously revealing outfit.
Cole said something to Sylvia, took a step in Destiny’s direction – and collided with a waitress.
A near disaster, but somehow her tray full of drinks stayed upright. After that miracle, he stood perfectly still, eyeing Destiny hungrily, as though she were the only one present. When he started toward her again, her breath caught in her throat.
She knew she should run – or make the attempt – but her feet wouldn't move. Her heart thumped erratically, her face hot.
Then, unexpectedly, she felt a hand on her arm. "Here you go.” Web’s voice. “Club soda and lime."
Now, halfway across the room, headed in her direction, Cole's face darkened. He stopped mid-stride, then abruptly turned away and joined a group of colleagues from the hospital.
Destiny scowled. "Darn it, Web. Your timing is lousy. And you told me Cole wouldn't be here!"
"Well, I guess you just never know where Doc Holliday will make an appearance," Web answered easily. "But since you two aren't an item any more, what do you care?"
An item. Is that what the hospital gossip called it?
That made it sound so trivial. What she felt for Cole could hardly be considered trivial.
She took a sip of her soda, reminding herself to hold her tongue. After all, Web was her boss.
He leaned closer. "If you bid on me, I'll make sure you have fun. No strings. No post-mortem heartache."
"What happened to your sudden need to settle down, Dr. Baker?" she chided, not the least bit tempted.
Nonplussed, he shrugged. "With the right woman..."
"Oh, you're incorrigible." She couldn't resist a small smile.
He grinned. "There, that wasn't so hard. If nothing else, you found your happy face tonight."
She glanced toward the group Cole had joined and was surprised to catch him watching her. Her miniature smile disappeared altogether.
"Oops, guess I spoke too soon," Web muttered, drawing her attention back to him.
Her gaze drifted back across the room to Cole. This was torture. She couldn't stand it another minute. "Will you excuse me for a moment, Web?"
She fled to the ladies room, feeling Cole's eyes burning holes in her back. She should never have come! Now he probably thought the worst – that she and Web... Well, he had Sylvia clinging to him like a barnacle. No, that wasn't fair and Destiny knew it. But it was a cinch he’d never mistake that redhead for Lanni.
Instead of returning to the ballroom, she wandered the mezzanine, gazing down onto the gaming floor. In any other state, the hotels would have comfy sofas scattered about the hallways, but not Nevada. Nothing but one-arm bandits lined the walls.
She sat down at a stool beside a vacant machine and tried to relax her shoulders. Her head ached, and the noisy, money-gulping monsters didn't help.
Nothing seemed right to her anymore. She'd told Cole she didn't want to see him. He'd honored her wishes. The one time she'd run into him at the hospital cafeteria, he'd quickly dumped his coffee into a styrofoam cup and disappeared.
Why had she come to this ridiculous event?
Her neck muscles twinged, her jaw felt tight enough to crack. The auction didn't start for another hour. She'd planned to stay long enough to make a low bid on the first bachelor, no matter who it might be, then leave. And tomorrow she'd give Web a piece of her mind. He'd led her to believ
e it would be easy to sneak off and return home whenever she wanted. She'd naturally assumed the event was in Carson.
She saw Fran threading her way through rapt-faced gamblers, "Web was worried you'd run out on him," Fran chided.
"I should, the devil.” Destiny rolled her eyes. “And you, too. Cole's not only here – he's here with a date! I gave serious thought to spending the evening in the Ladies Room, but there was only one kind of seat available."
Fran smiled sympathetically. "You still want him, you have to fight for him, honey."
"I don't want him!"
"Oh yeah?" Fran challenged, not the least put off by Destiny's acerbic tone. "That's not what Web says. He says you two looked like Cinderella and the Prince when Cole walked in." Fran gave a motherly smile. "From what I could see, Prince Jackson’s beautiful blue eyes were doing a slow waltz all over you."
And seeing Lanni? "I'm not going back in there until the auction begins," Destiny vowed.
"But the music is starting. Come on, Des. All those wonderful hunks need dance partners."
Destiny was unswayed. "From what I saw, there were plenty of eligible partners."
"Well, it's a darn waste, but if you want to stay out here, hidden away, go ahead." She fluffed her hair, adjusted the bangles at her wrists. "I'm going back in there to have some fun!"
As Fran departed, music wafted through the doorway, soft and romantic. Destiny silently discussed her options with a plaster lion which peered at her through the artificial jungle. She loved parties, fun, dancing--tribal or otherwise. This was the first time in her life she'd shied away from one, and she felt darn crummy about it.
Lonely.
Sad.
To heck with it, she was not going to just hide away. She'd been right to break off her relationship with Cole. If he couldn't accept that, then tough. She was not going to sit out here for the whole evening.
She stood, taking a deep breath before remembering her low-cut bodice. She yanked the dress back up where it belonged, and minced back into the ballroom. Almost everyone was on the dance floor. Her gaze immediately found Sylvia's red hair among the swaying throng. But she was dancing with Web! The two were laughing like old friends as he led her around the floor to a soft rendition of Blue Moon.
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