Cinderella and the Playboy / The Texan's Happily-Ever-After (11 page)

“Sure.” Yolanda looked up. “What are you…?” She glanced past Jennifer and saw Chance sliding into the seat of a booth. “Oh.”

Chance stood as Jennifer reached the booth, waiting until she took the bench opposite him.

“Hello,” she said gravely.

“Hello,” he responded, voice husky. “I've left messages on your machine. You didn't call back.”

“I didn't think I should,” she explained truthfully. “We agreed that our…date…was a one-night thing. And that after it was over, we'd return to our normal lives as if it had never happened.”

“That's right, we did.” A faint frown veed his brows, his gaze intent on her face. “Is that what you want?”

“I thought it's what you wanted,” she commented. “When you didn't come into the diner all week, I was certain of it.”

“I couldn't come near you,” he told her grimly. “Not without involving you in a scandal.”

“You mean the paternity suit?” she asked quietly.

“Yes.” He thrust his hand through his hair, raking
it back from his forehead. “I suppose you read about it in the papers?”

“It was hard to miss,” she told him.

“Yeah, it was.” He frowned, a cynical twist to his mouth. “And of course, the columnist who broke the story didn't bother to comment on the conclusion.”

“The conclusion?”

“I called in a few favors and had my blood tests expedited. The results came back today. They prove I'm excluded as a possible father of the child.”

Relief flooded through Jennifer and she realized that in some hidden part of her heart, she'd been unsure of his innocence. His words soothed some bruised, wary place inside her. She leaned forward, impulsively covering his hands with hers atop the table. “I'm so glad this was resolved so quickly for you, Chance. Linda and Yolanda told me you were being followed by a photographer. That must have been awful.”

“The photographer is the reason I haven't tried to see you.” Chance turned his palms upward, capturing her hands in his. “If he'd seen us together, our photo would be splashed all over the papers the next day. That kind of attention isn't comfortable—I wanted to protect you from it.”

Touched, Jennifer squeezed his hands. “That was
very sweet of you. And very considerate,” she added, thinking about how awful it would have been if Annie had been photographed and their lives laid bare to public gossip.

“No,” Chance said, his thumbs moving in slow, rhythmic strokes over the back of her hands. “It should never have happened.” He leaned forward, his gaze intent on hers. “The woman who accused me of fathering her child was an ex-patient. I can't discuss details but I want you to know that I never touched her, other than in a purely professional way. I was her doctor for a short time and then referred her to a physician friend who I felt was more qualified to deal with her situation. There was never the slightest moment of inappropriate contact between us. Our relationship was strictly doctor and patient.”

“I believe you,” Jennifer assured him. His features eased, lines disappearing from around his mouth and eyes, and she realized that he'd been unsure of her reaction. “Chance, I've watched you interact with other customers here in the diner over the past six months. You've been unfailingly kind and considerate to people, whether young or old. And I've never once seen you respond with anything but friendly politeness when women have obviously been coming on to you. Not that I'm unaware of your
reputation as a lady-killer,” she added with a wry smile. “Goodness knows, the female half of the institute's employees who have lunch here seem to spend fifty percent of their time speculating about your love life.”

“I can't help what people say about me,” he told her, his eyes serious. “And I admit I like women and that I've dated quite a few over the years. But I would never get a woman pregnant and then abandon her. Kids are too important. I'd never walk away from a child of mine.”

Jennifer's heart clenched. Her ex-husband hadn't wanted a baby and by filing for divorce while she was pregnant, he'd effectively abandoned her. That Chance obviously felt strongly about the father standing by the mother of his child sent elation bubbling through her veins.

Perhaps there truly were men in the world with a sense of responsibility, she thought. And who would have expected a well-known playboy to be one of those men?

“It's wonderful to know you wouldn't ignore your responsibility to your child, even if conception was unplanned,” she reiterated. Emotion trembled in her voice and she didn't miss his quick frown of concern. Before he could ask her any questions, however, she
rushed into speech. “Will the lawsuit be dismissed, now that the test results have excluded you?”

He nodded. “My attorney is working on that now. I suspect my former patient filed the case as leverage to negotiate a settlement. There are no grounds for a payoff now, of course.”

“She damaged your reputation and caused all this trouble because she wanted money?” Jennifer's eyes widened, shock giving way to outrage on his behalf.

“I'm sure that was the motive.” He shrugged, his mouth curving into a wry smile that didn't reach his eyes.

“Has this happened before?” Jennifer asked, struck by his calmness.

“Not with a paternity suit.” His dark gaze was unreadable. “I have a good income from my medical career, Jennifer, but my parents are…fairly well-off, too. Over the years, several people have tried various schemes to extract money from us.” He shook his head. “We've never given in.”

Appalled, Jennifer couldn't speak for a moment. “Have you ever been hurt?” she asked, horrified images of television reports of kidnappings and robberies flashing in her brain.

“No.” He shook his head again. “Never—the
attempts have involved what police might refer to as white-collar crime, always civil law actions.”

“That's terrible.” She had no experience to compare with this. Jennifer couldn't imagine dealing with criminal or civil greed targeting her.

“Mostly it's just annoying,” he told her. “The family has excellent attorneys and I've learned to let them handle these situations.” He squeezed her hands. “It does no good to worry over it—and in the meantime,” he continued, “life goes on.” He leaned back and shoved one hand into his jeans pocket.

“I've wanted to return this to you all week,” he told her, holding out his hand. A delicate silver chain dangled from his hand, a silver locket suspended over his palm.

“My locket!” Jennifer exclaimed with pleasure. “Where did you find it?” She took the pretty necklace from his outstretched hand and fastened it around her neck.

“Butch found it.” He dropped his voice to a deep murmur. “In my bed.”

Her gaze flew to his and she felt her cheeks heat. She couldn't look away, memories swirling as his deep chocolate eyes turned hot.

“I, um…” She faltered, drawing a deep breath.

“I want to see you again, Jennifer.”

“You are seeing me,” she noted.

“I mean outside the diner. I know we had an agreement,” he said. “But one night wasn't enough. If anything, all it did was convince me that we should see each other again.”

Jennifer badly wanted to say yes but she was torn. She'd vowed before Annie was born that she wouldn't expose her daughter to a succession of men friends. At least, not until she knew the relationship was serious. And she had no clue whether Chance contemplated a future. Given his history with women, she doubted it.

Not to mention that she had so little free time between her job at the diner, caring for Annie and her college classes.

Still, she'd discovered during the night she'd spent with Chance that he was more complicated, more complex, more loving and certainly more fun than she'd expected.

She wanted to know him better. But how to do that without breaking her commitments to Annie, work and school?

“I have a class tonight that I can't skip,” she said slowly. “But I can meet you for coffee afterward, if you'd like?”

“I'd like,” he agreed promptly.

They arranged to meet outside the campus library after her class and Chance said goodbye.

“Did he tell you about the paternity suit?” Linda asked when Jennifer relieved her behind the counter.

“Yes, there were blood tests and they proved he's not the father.” Jennifer walked the length of the counter, pouring coffee into customers' cups and exchanging hellos with her regulars before returning to the center section where Linda waited. “We're meeting for coffee after my class tonight.”

“Yes!” Linda crowed, her smile wide. “That's terrific, Jennifer.”

“I'm not sure if it is or isn't, but I know I want to see him again.”

“Trust me,” Linda said firmly. “You and the doc are great together. Dating him is going to be soooo good for you.”

“Who's dating?” Shirley asked as she and Yolanda joined them.

“I'm meeting Chance tonight after my class,” Jennifer whispered, aware of the interested customers within hearing range.

“Cool.” Shirley's eyes were bright with approval.

“Now you're doing the smart thing,” Yolanda told her. “That man is fine.” She rolled her eyes and the other three laughed out loud.

“Hey, are you four working or talking?” the boss yelled from the pass-through window into the kitchen.

They exchanged guilty glances and dispersed, Yolanda winking at Jennifer as they left the counter to wait on customers in the booths.

When Jennifer called her neighbor and babysitter, Margaret Sullivan, to tell her that she was meeting someone for coffee after class, Margaret was delighted. She assured Jennifer she was happy to stay later than usual with Annie and told her to enjoy herself.

Since Annie was accustomed to having Margaret stay with her while Jennifer was at class, Jennifer didn't feel too guilty about staying out later than usual. In any event, Annie was always asleep when Jennifer returned and would never know if her mom was out later than usual.

Try as she might, Jennifer had difficulty concentrating on the classroom lecture. Although she took as many pages of notes as usual, her attention wasn't fully concentrated on the speaker. When at last the instructor released the group, she took a moment to slick a fresh coat of color on her lips before leaving the lecture hall.

Chance leaned against a waist-high wall outside the library entryway. His hands tucked into the
pockets of faded jeans, he scanned the passing groups of chattering students, looking for Jennifer.

He saw her hair first. Long caramel-blond silk caught up in a ponytail, she walked a few steps behind a quartet of younger students. Lust stirred as he watched her walk toward him, her long legs encased in jeans, a plain white scoop-necked T-shirt tucked in the belted waistband, simple black flats on her narrow feet and a pale blue sweater over her shoulders.

He wanted to take her to bed. Now. But strangely enough, he was willing—hell, he was even happy—to know he'd get to spend innocent time talking with her at a coffee shop.

His stomach growled.

He needed more than coffee, he realized, counting the hours since he'd grabbed a sandwich at lunch.

“Hi, there.” She reached him just as he pushed away from the wall.

“Hello, beautiful.” He couldn't resist bending to brush a kiss against her cheek, just at the corner of her soft mouth.

Even in the light from streetlamps and the library windows behind them, he could see the color flush her cheeks.

“Are you hungry?” he asked, hooking an arm around her shoulders to anchor her against his side. He
took the books from her hands and tucked them under his free arm before urging her into motion. “Because I just realized I missed dinner and I'm starving.”

“I had a cup of soup before class but I guess I could have a bite of something.” She looked up at him, her ponytail brushing silkily against his cheek as she moved. “Did you have somewhere in mind?”

He nodded. “There's a great Italian restaurant just down the block. How do you feel about pasta?”

“I love pasta,” she told him.

“Great.”

A half hour later, they were seated across from each other at a table covered with a red-checked cloth. The table was lit with a white candle in a squat wine bottle, its green glass half-covered with drippings of melted wax. Plates of lasagna, green salad and stemmed glasses filled with ruby red wine sat in front of them.

Jennifer took another bite of lasagna and sighed, half closing her eyes as she swallowed. “This lasagna is fabulous,” she said.

Chance nearly groaned at the sensual expression on her face as she savored the food. He forced himself to focus on her comment, instead of the overwhelming urge to lean over the table and cover her mouth with his. “Uh, yes, it is, isn't it. I used to eat here at least twice a week.”

“You must really love Italian food—this isn't exactly in your neighborhood,” Jennifer commented.

“I taught a few classes here,” he told her. “Before I took on a few other medical duties and had to cut back on teaching.”

“Did you like doing it? Teaching, I mean?”

“Yeah, I did.” He smiled at her, lifting his glass to salute her. “Another thing we have in common—we both like to teach.”

Jennifer tipped her glass at him in response and sipped. “I don't know if I'd ever want to teach at the college level,” she admitted to him. “I'm more interested in teaching young children.”

“An honorable goal,” he agreed. “And little kids are a lot of fun. What subject do you see yourself teaching?”

Time slipped by as they ate, drank wine and talked.

The restaurant's crowd was growing thin when Jennifer glanced at her watch and gasped. “Oh, my goodness—look at the time!” She looked at Chance, her expression apologetic. “I really have to go. I'm working the early shift and have to be at the diner by 5:00 a.m. I'll be staggering if I don't get some sleep.”