But it was only a matter of time before the truth would be exposed.
The people running the clinic knew. That was why they were attempting to confiscate all the NoWait. That’s why they wanted to find Richard, too. She hoped and prayed that Dr. Jacobs had been telling her the truth about wanting Richard to help in the lab with the tests.
Yes, Richard, with his rash schemes to become famous, had been his own worst enemy.
Carrie set the glass on the end table, her fingers trembling. Then she snapped on the light. Sitting in the dark was only contributing to her bad mood.
There was no way around feeling guilty for the way she’d acted. For the awful accusations she’d flung at Richard right in front of his colleagues and all those despairing people who needed his help losing weight.
Carrie desperately wanted to find Richard. To tell him she was sorry. To tell him the clinic wanted him. Needed him.
To tell him about his son.
Richard Strong was the profound “something” her life had been missing for so long. That much was a certainty. However, there were so many unanswered questions rolling around in her mind. She needed to know if he ever thought about her. If he had ever missed her over the years. If he, like she, had wished that things could have turned out differently for them.
She needed to know if he could forgive her.
She would never be happy until she had some answers. But answers weren’t possible until she found Richard.
Where on earth could he be?
The following morning Riley sat at the conference table with Faye Lassen, a slew of Portland General’s administrators, various laboratory personnel and several others whose names, titles and interest in the NoWait testing he was oblivious to. He’d been sitting in this meeting for well over two hours, but everyone might as well have been speaking a foreign language for as much as he’d gotten out of it.
Catherine consumed his thoughts. Every time he attempted to concentrate on the topic at hand, something about her would whisper across his brain. Something she’d said, or something she’d done, or some expression on her angelic face.
She’d had him running the full emotional gamut last night.
Her shamelessness had stunned him. Yet each time she’d made some bold move, it was immediately followed up by a flash of uncertainty that he’d suspected she’d been unaware of. But Riley had seen it, time and again, and he had thought it was so sweet. It had been patent proof to him that her overly confident behavior probably wasn’t the norm for her.
She’d made him laugh, and she hadn’t minded looking silly to do it. At one point she’d cracked a self-deprecating joke that had him laughing so hard his cheek muscles had begun to ache.
The complexity of her moods had intrigued him.
She’d annoyed the hell out of him at the restaurant when they’d talked about whether or not the clinic’s clients suffered with real problems. He’d tried to make her understand his position, and that he hadn’t meant to make light of their situations, but he simply couldn’t compare the medical needs of someone needing to lose a couple of pounds with someone in the throes of a life-threatening illness. However, she’d stubbornly stood by her opinion that the people in the clinic deserved just as much attention as anyone else. He’d let it drop, silently deciding they should agree to disagree.
At the end of the evening, however, she’d made him understand a little better about the sufferings of overweight people. When she’d spoken about her treatment at the hands of her father—his callous name-calling, his withholding of affection—the vulnerability that emanated from her had disturbed him greatly. All he’d wanted to do was wrap his arms around her, hold her tight and make all the pain go away.
Catherine had scars from her past. And from the way she talked about her relationship with her father, she might very well be acquiring more scars even as an adult who had conquered her childhood weight problem.
Catherine had stirred his desire. When he’d first picked her up, her physical appearance had blown him away. And later, with her body pressed up tight against his at Midnight Blues, Riley’s insides had writhed with wild, primal urges. He wanted her, there could be no doubt about that.
And then she’d bluntly insisted that he kiss her good-night… He grinned even now, thinking about it. He’d been so plagued with need that he feared he would lose all control. But he hadn’t, and the only reason had been because she’d just finished looking so damned defenseless when she’d talked about her past. He’d been determined not to take advantage of her in that state. So when he’d kissed her, he’d been shooting for physical contact that would measure in the platonic range. But even the small, swift peck he’d given her had missed that mark. He’d spent the remainder of last night tossing and turning while his subconscious continued to conjure sensuous images of how easily that chaste kiss could have turned outrageously erotic, and once he’d finally dropped off to sleep, it had done just that in his dreams.
His whole body grew hot as he contemplated the subliminal night fantasy.
“Riley?”
Dr. David Graham was older than Mount Hood, and the man should have retired years ago. But his position as director and top dog—as he’d preferred to refer to himself—at Portland General Hospital had afforded him a great deal of clout and power, and a sort of celebrity in the city that he refused to give up. Everyone knew Dr. Graham would have to be carried from his prestigious office feet first.
“Yes?” Riley sat up straighter in his chair.
“I was asking your thoughts on the matter,” David said, obviously unhappy that he’d had to backtrack to bring Riley up to par. “You haven’t said much at all.”
Riley had no idea exactly which matter he meant. Dr. Graham had been the one who’d forced Riley into this job, with promises of great things to come for him if he saved the clinic from ruin once the truth about Dr. Richie had been made public. However, the offer had also held overtones that smacked of blackmail, and Riley hated the fact that his past could be used against him.
“One of the concerns Dr. Jacobs and I talked about,” Faye Lassen supplied for him, “is the price tag of the project. It might be cost-effective for us to contract an outside laboratory for the testing.”
Riley cast her a grateful glance, but she seemed too focused on the goings-on of the meeting to notice.
David Graham looked appalled by Faye’s suggestion. “And risk allowing this information to get out?”
Faye didn’t wither under the director’s frown. “You know contract labs are run under strict proprietary information laws, Dr. Graham. Everything about our experiments, from the substance to the results, will be safe.”
David’s wiry brows set stubbornly. “I want to keep this in-house. And I’ve already agreed that Dr. Richie should head this up. Dr. Jacobs was right when he told me last week that NoWait is Richard Strong’s baby. No one knows the stuff like he does.” Frustration evidently got the better of him and he thumped his hand on the table. “Why can’t we find that man?”
A dropped pin would have clashed like a cymbal in the sudden silence.
The bristly director frowned down at the long agenda in front of him. “We still have a lot to discuss, and I see it’s nearly lunchtime. But I think it’s imperative that we nail everything down today. I don’t want this to drag on with endless meetings. I want the testing started. Or at the very least, I want all of our ducks in a row so that when Dr. Richie returns he can get right on it.
“We’ll order lunch in,” he announced. “Faye, can you take care of it?”
Automatically, Faye answered, “Certainly, Dr. Graham.”
“Have the food delivered right here.” To the group at large he said, “Let’s take a twenty-minute break. That should give all of you time to reschedule your afternoon appointments, and then we can get right back on this, okay?”
He might have formed the words into a question, but he wasn’t interested in anyone’s opinion. He clearly expected his wants
to be fully met.
Riley and Faye left the meeting together. Once they were out of hearing range, Riley said, “Thanks for that back there.”
Faye smiled. “No problem. You’d do it for me if the situation had been reversed.”
He nodded.
“By the way,” she quipped, “where were you? Or rather, where were your thoughts? You were positively lost.”
He wasn’t sure how to answer the question. He’d taken Catherine out last night, shown her a bit of Portland. Their evening together had even been referred to as a date. But it wasn’t as if this…thing between them was going anywhere.
Faye shoved her heavy glasses up on her nose. “Ah, so it’s a woman.”
Female intuition never ceased to amaze him.
They turned a corner in the maze of the hospital and headed for the main lobby. “It’s nothing,” he muttered. She shot him a dubious look, and he asserted, “Really.”
They walked in silence for several seconds.
Faye said, “What do you think about the way Dr. Graham is pushing to get this testing started?”
“I don’t like it. If it’s rushed, mistakes are bound to be made.”
The expression on her face told him she agreed.
“If we’re going to do the testing here,” he continued, “we should get our best toxicologists on it. We should leave this to the experts. And Dr. Richie really should be involved even if it’s only as a consultant.”
She nodded.
Sunlight streamed though the glass-enclosed lobby. Faye’s steps slowed.
“I have to run downstairs to the cafeteria to order sandwiches.”
Riley gritted his teeth. “That shouldn’t be your job.”
Faye waved away his concern. “I don’t mind. And someone’s got to do it.”
He caught and held her gaze. “Someday,” he said, “you’re going to get full credit for all you do.”
Her cheeks tinged pink with embarrassment, and Riley silently surmised that she’d be a very attractive woman if she’d loosen those tight fasteners from her hair and unmask herself from those enormous eyeglasses.
But he quickly curbed the thought. Faye Lassen was an excellent doctor and an inordinately organized and efficient administrator. That in itself should be enough.
He offered, “Do you want me to get the receptionists started on rearranging your afternoon appointments?”
“No, thanks. I’ll call them on my cell on my way to the cafeteria.”
“Okay, then, I’ll see you back in the meeting in twenty.”
They separated, and then Riley turned back and called out to her. “Do you have any idea which session Catherine Houston was going to attend this morning? I was supposed to have lunch with her today, so I need to cancel.”
Faye’s face brightened. “Is Catherine the woman who had you so engrossed all morning?”
His mouth drew into a line of warning.
“Okay, okay,” she said, chuckling. “It’s none of my business. It’s just that she and I have become kind of chatty. She’s a sweet person, Riley. We’re going out this weekend, as a matter of fact. She asked me to show her the best shops.
“Anyway,” Faye continued, “Catherine told me she was looking for a fun workshop. So she chose that popular one on self-control. Um…” Faye thought a second. “Oh, yes. Mind over Manicotti, it’s called. I’m sure that’s where you’ll find her.”
“Thanks.”
Riley walked out into the sunshine, hardly aware of the glorious day.
So Catherine had chosen to attend a session on self-control, he thought. Funny, last night at the restaurant she’d chosen a simple salad and a meatless pasta sauce. She hardly seemed to have a lack of self-control. Well, where food had been concerned, she hadn’t. However, if flirtation were chocolate syrup, she’d have drowned in the rich confection last night. Her verbal play had been enticing, to say the least.
She’d made him feel some powerful physical urges. She’d stirred a hunger in him. A hunger so deep it had been awesome to experience, and nearly impossible to quell. If he hadn’t witnessed those extremely vulnerable moments—the raw pain that had cast shadows in her blue eyes when she’d talked about her father and her lonely childhood—he might have unleashed his craving for her. He just might have satiated his need.
When he’d noticed that the champagne had made her tipsy, he’d suggested she should sleep it off.
I’d love to go to bed.
Her unashamedly sexual response had blown him away. The mere thought of her innuendo made heat coil down deep in his core even now. Sweat prickled his brow and he gulped in a lungful of fresh, mind-clearing air. Only then did an errant thought sough through his head.
Upper crust. Faye had clued him in even before he’d met Catherine. And Catherine had cemented the idea herself last night at the gardens.
Perfume from France, indeed. Made just for her. Riley shook his head as he pulled open the front door of the clinic.
Catherine Houston was a blue blood.
Her name alone made his thinking go hazy. She was a blue blood who smelled like sun-warmed jasmine…who had creamy skin, golden hair and high, rounded—
Riley gave himself a mental shake. He’d had his share of humiliation from the likes of the well-to-do to last him a lifetime and beyond.
Like a coiled snake, the vile memory hissed and bared its teeth at him. He’d vowed that he’d never put himself in a situation where it might be repeated.
Maybe canceling lunch was a good thing. Staying away from Catherine would be for the best.
After checking with reception to find out which conference room was being used for the Mind over Manicotti workshop, Riley stalked down the hall and let himself into the room as quietly as possible. He stood in the back to let his eyes adjust to the soft lights.
The speaker at the podium was a jovial woman whose humorous personal insights never failed to make the workshop attendees relax and enjoy themselves in the lighthearted session.
Riley spotted Catherine in the crowd immediately. He hadn’t been lying last night when he’d told her there was nothing ordinary about her. Her long, wavy hair glowed flaxen even in the low lighting.
Luckily, there was an empty seat right next to her. He headed down the aisle.
“Catherine,” he whispered as he sat.
The smile she offered him lightened his heart. Hell, it brightened his whole damned day!
Down, boy! he ordered his thoughts. And other parts of his libido.
“Hi,” she whispered back, her sweet, sexy accent flowing over him like warm honey.
Riley firmed his jaw. “I have to cancel lunch,” he said. “I’ll be stuck in a meeting all afternoon.”
He should probably apologize. However, he didn’t make a habit of dishonesty merely for politeness’ sake.
Her beautiful face went blank. Although she struggled to hide her emotions, he couldn’t miss her disappointment.
Guilt poked at him like a sharp stick, but he refused to allow it to force him to say something he didn’t mean. Missing this lunch date was a good thing; he had to keep repeating that to himself.
When it looked as though disillusionment had begun to win in her battle of wills, Riley couldn’t take it any longer. “I just wanted to let you know,” he whispered. Without allowing himself to think further, he pushed himself up from the chair and headed toward the door at the back of the conference room.
Five
The Pearl District was an area of the city filled with block after block of bistros, boutiques, numerous galleries, two art schools, salons, florists and a host of other shops. It was a place where old met new. Where abandoned manufacturing plants had been transformed into wine shops, bakeries and much-sought-after loft apartments. And Catherine was thoroughly charmed by it all.
“This place used to be nothing but old warehouses and weedy, littered lots,” Faye told Catherine.
The two of them bustled down the street as only women on a shopping
mission could, various bags swinging on their arms.
Faye continued, “And who would ever believe that people would want to live overlooking the rail yard? But Old Union Station now has a great restaurant and a piano bar. The Pearl is a thriving community.”
“The city’s done a great job renovating the area, that’s for sure.” Catherine looked for traffic and then stepped out into the street.
“Careful of those,” Faye warned, pointing to the new streetcar tracks embedded in the roadway. “Don’t get your heel caught.”
The boutique they entered had some lovely clothing on display.
Faye scanned one particular dress from top to bottom, but rather than give her opinion of the fabric or the style of the dress, she casually asked, “So what’s happening between you and Riley?”
The urge to roll her eyes in response was nearly overwhelming, but Catherine’s years of deportment training forced her to overcome it. “Not a thing, it seems. I got him to take me out. Once. And we had a great time. Or so I thought.” Lifting the hem of the dress on display, she studied the workmanship. “Underneath that grumpiness I found a nice guy.”
She remembered the excruciatingly sweet kiss they’d shared. Murmuring, she wickedly corrected, “A yummy guy, actually.”
Faye laughed.
Catherine let the fabric fall from her fingers. “But then he canceled our lunch date the next day. And I suspect he’s been avoiding me ever since.”
Faye chose a dress from the rack. “I think I’ll try this on.”
Catherine shook her head. “Not that one.” She took the dress and hung it back on the rack. “Everything you wear is tan or cream or brown. You need some color, Faye.” She picked a shirtdress in a rich shade of burnt orange, just perfect for September.
“I can’t,” Faye exclaimed.
“Of course, you can. It’ll look great.”
Faye dug in her heels, and Catherine laughed, giving her a little shove. “The least you can do is try it on.” She snatched up a few more colorful items in the same size. “And it won’t hurt to try these, too.”
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