The Surgeon's New-Year Wedding Wish (5 page)

“Don’t you think maybe I would have liked to be there for you and Danny?” she demanded.

“Yes, I think you would have immediately come home, which was exactly what I was trying to avoid.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “But I do need your help. Will you watch Danny this evening? I have a dinner date.”

“You have a dinner date? With a woman?”

“Well, certainly not with a man,” he said with a dry laugh.

“Of course I’ll be there. What time? Oh, never mind, I’ll come home early so that I can cook Danny’s favorite meal. He can eat regular food, can’t he?”

“Yes, he’s fine. His lower leg is in a cast, and they’ve given him crutches. I’m sure they’ll give me some pain medication to bring home for him.”

“The poor boy. Tell him we’re having spaghetti, his favorite dinner, tonight.”

“I will.” He breathed a sigh of relief. His diversion tactic had worked. Delores was so happy he was actually going out that she’d gotten over being angry with him.

Mission accomplished. At least one of them. The second, more difficult task was still to be tackled.

He needed to find Leila’s home address.

As he started to make phone calls, he realized it might be more difficult than he’d originally thought. She wasn’t listed in the phone book. He’d gotten her number easily enough from the ED physician directory, but he didn’t want to call her. Instinctively he knew he’d be better off if he simply showed up at her house by seven.

After making dinner reservations for seven forty-five, just in case he needed to give her some extra time,
he began tapping his resources. After a few phone calls, he got in touch with Jadon Reichert.

“Leila’s address?” Jadon’s voice held suspicion. “Why?”

Quinn suppressed a sigh. “I’m not stalking her or anything, so relax. She lost a bracelet in the ED the other day and I found it. I just want to drop it off for her.”

It was a blatant lie, but he thought Leila might not exactly want the whole of Cedar Bluff to know he was taking her to dinner. Not that the news wouldn’t travel through town soon enough. Still, he thought she’d prefer the lie to telling Jadon the truth.

“Oh, well. In that case, sure. She lives just a few blocks from me, on Howard Avenue. I think her address is two-ten south Howard. It’s a one-story tan house with dark green shutters.”

Perfect. “Thanks, Jadon. I’m sure she’ll appreciate getting her bracelet back ASAP.”

“No problem.”

He was still basking in the glow of his success when Andrew Tobin returned. “Danny’s head CT is all clear, so you’re free to take him home. Here’s a prescription for stronger pain medication if you need it.”

“Great. Thanks very much.” He glanced at Danny, who was watching them with wide eyes. He signed and spoke at the same time. “Did you hear that? You’re all better, so we can go home.”

I heard. Does this mean I can’t go sledding anymore?

“Sorry, no sledding until the cast comes off in six to eight weeks,” he said. “But just think of how cool you’re going to look with that cast. The girls are going to be all over you.”

Danny rolled his eyes.
I don’t like girls
.

Quinn grinned. “You will.”

No way.
Danny’s expression was firm.
If I’m stuck at home, can Ben and Charlie come play video games with me?

“Yes. We’ll see if one of them can come over later today for a while, okay?”

Danny nodded and Quinn helped him get dressed, quickly realizing that Danny’s pants didn’t fit over the bulky cast. He borrowed scissors from a nurse and cut a slit in the bottom of the left leg.

“You might want to invest in a few pairs of sweatpants or the athletic pants that have zippers along the bottom,” she suggested. “They’re cheaper than buying new jeans.”

Another shopping trip, although he knew Delores would help. On the way home, he explained to Danny how Auntie D. was making his favorite dinner.

Where are you going?

Quinn hesitated, not sure how to explain. He wasn’t used to providing his son with details about his dating life.

Up until now, he hadn’t had a dating life.

And Quinn really, really didn’t want Danny to think he was going to have another mother. Danny was still traumatized by what had happened with Celeste.

“I’m having dinner with a doctor friend of mine.” He shot Danny a quick glance. “You don’t mind, do you?”

Danny shook his head.
Is she pretty?

He frowned. How had Danny figured out the doctor friend was a woman? Sometimes he forgot that just because Danny didn’t speak, it didn’t mean his son
didn’t have acute hearing. He must have overheard Quinn’s conversation with Delores.

“Danny, she’s just a friend,” he hastened to explain. “Adults have dinner as friends all the time. It’s nothing serious, so please don’t worry about it.”

Danny stared at him for a long moment, and then shrugged.
I’m not worried
.

“Good.” Quinn’s smile was strained. Because suddenly he was worried enough for the both of them.

Q
UINN
arrived promptly on Leila’s doorstep at five minutes to seven. The look of stunned surprise on her face when she opened the door would have been comical if not for the fact that she very clearly had not planned to go to dinner with him.

Her casual dress was the first clue. Her obvious surprise the second. Yet even in snug black jeans and a deep purple sweater, she was gorgeous.

“How did you get my address?” she demanded in a rather unwelcoming tone, although she did hold the front door open for him.

He smiled and stepped inside out of the cold weather. “I’ll wait if you want to change. If not, you’re absolutely fine as you are.”

Leila’s long dark hair was loose, draping over her shoulders, and he wanted very badly to bury his fingers in the silky dark strands. Her expression was full of annoyance and a touch of chagrin as she crossed her arms over her chest. “This isn’t a good idea. I don’t want to go out with you.”

Her words had the power to shake his confidence, but
he hid the effect by simply cocking a brow. “Which is it? Not a good idea or that you really don’t want to go?”

“Stop splitting hairs,” she snapped, her temper flashing in her violet eyes. “What difference does it make? No is still no.”

Too bad he wasn’t taking no for an answer. He glanced around her tidy home, noting the absence of dinner preparations. “Have you eaten dinner already?” he asked.

“Not yet,” she admitted.

“Then there’s really no reason we can’t share a simple meal. Certainly you can’t argue about a friendly dinner between two colleagues.”

“I doubt your intentions are friendly,” she groused, half under her breath.

He fought the urge to smile. She was feisty. He liked that about her. Not just feisty but beautiful, smart, talented and sexy.

Very sexy.

So far, he couldn’t come up with a single thing he didn’t like about Leila Ross.

“What are you so afraid of?” he asked in a soft voice.

That made her angle her chin, her eyes sharp. “I’m not afraid.”

“Good. Because I’d hate to think you’d allow fear to control what you did or didn’t do.”

She stared at him with a narrowed gaze. “Your inflated ego is amazing.”

This time he did laugh. She was just so damn cute. “If you really don’t want to go out, I’ll cancel our reservations and arrange for a delivery instead. I’m not opposed to dining here in your home.”

If anything, her eyes widened farther. Sensing the futility of arguing, she agreed. “Fine. We’ll go out for dinner and nothing more. Have a seat and I’ll be right back.” She spun on her heel and stalked down the hall to her bedroom.

He didn’t sit. As he watched her walk away, it took all his willpower and then some to stop himself from following her, picking up their heated embrace and her intoxicating kisses where they’d left off yesterday in the physicians’ lounge.

As far as he was concerned, they didn’t have to go out to eat. He’d rather they didn’t. Staying here in the cozy intimacy of her home made it more likely that he’d be able to steal another kiss or two. Maybe more.

Reining in his impatience wasn’t easy. He sensed Leila was, indeed, running away. He didn’t fully understand why, but he couldn’t seem to make himself back off either.

He wanted her. And despite her cutting words to the contrary, he knew she wanted him, too.

She returned to the living room a few minutes later, looking absolutely stunning in a long-sleeved black knit sweater dress that dipped low over her breasts and happened to be short enough to reach mid-thigh, showcasing an awesome pair of legs.

Damn. He swallowed hard, knocked off balance at the sight. “Breathtaking,” he murmured in a low, husky voice that didn’t come close to hiding his pure male reaction.

“Thank you.” If she noticed the blazing hunger in his gaze she pretended to ignore it as she picked up her purse. Her tone was cool and polite. “I’m ready.”

Yes. So was he. More than ready. But not for dinner.

Forcing himself to nod, he held the door open for her, inhaling her exotic scent as she brushed past him into the chilly night.

The cold blast of wintery air didn’t come close to dousing the fire raging within. He suspected that a dozen cold showers wouldn’t do the trick either. Leila wielded some sort of power over him that he was helpless to resist.

She’d managed to turn the tables on him, gaining the upper hand in this sensual dance. A fact he was afraid she knew only too well.

Yet he couldn’t help but smile, because he’d never felt more alive than he did right at that moment.

This was a bad idea. Leila forced herself to breathe through her mouth, because Quinn’s scent was filling her head with all sorts of crazy ideas, including finding a way to kiss him again.

A really, really bad idea.

But at the time it had also seemed like the lesser of two evils. Having Quinn stay at her house, calling for takeout, eating in the intimacy of her living room, would have been a worse idea.

But she wasn’t afraid of him. Absolutely not. If anything, she was afraid of herself. She didn’t trust her own reaction to him. Or her ability to resist him if he focused all that male sexual energy toward her again.

Hysterical laughter bubbled in her throat and she coughed in an effort to pull herself together.

Get a grip. This was only dinner, certainly not a prelude to more kissing or sex. There was no reason they
couldn’t simply have a friendly dinner between colleagues.

Sure.

She struggled to stay immune to the sexual heat that radiated off him, filling the interior of his sports car. There was no sign of a booster seat, and if she hadn’t seen his son with her own eyes, she’d never believe he was the father of a six-year-old.

“How’s Danny?” she asked, desperate to break the silence.

He sent her a sideways glance. “Fine. Back to normal and showing off his cast and crutches to all his friends.”

She smiled at the image. “I bet. Knowing Kylie’s son Ben, he’s no doubt green with envy. Who’s watching him for you tonight?”

“Delores. Danny calls her Auntie D., mostly because it was easier to learn in sign language than her full name.”

“Has Danny talked at all?” she asked.

The heavy silence warned her—his son’s silence wasn’t a topic Quinn cared to discuss. She supposed she couldn’t blame him. She was about to try to cover her gaffe when he answered.

“No. But he’s seeing Nancy Adams, the speech pathologist, so I’m hopeful he’ll break his silent streak soon.”

She wanted to ask more, but couldn’t think of a way to ask that didn’t sound like she was just being nosy. “He looks a lot like you. Is your family from Spain?”

Quinn’s white teeth flashed in a rare smile. “My father is from Spain, but my mother was Italian. A lethal combination, I’ve been told. They met and married in
Italy, but I was born here in the States. You have a good eye for ethnicity.”

Both Spanish and Italian. A lethal combination, indeed. No wonder his charm was so potent. “Different ethnic backgrounds intrigue me.”

“Because you’re from a mixed culture as well?” he guessed.

Her smile faded. “Yes. I don’t know exactly where my genetic makeup comes from, but I do know I have some Filipino blood in my veins.”

“Why don’t you know? Won’t your mother confide in you?”

“My mother gave me up when I was barely three months old. I don’t remember her at all. I grew up in foster care.”

He threw her a startled look. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize.”

She shrugged, shifting uncomfortably in her seat. She wasn’t in the habit of discussing her past with anyone and wasn’t sure why she’d blurted it out now. “We all have our secrets, don’t we?”

He didn’t answer, slowing down to pull into the crowded restaurant parking lot of a very nice place well-known for its luxury dining. Leila was very glad she’d changed clothes.

Jeans, even black ones, would have definitely been out of place here.

Red and green lights covered the roof of the restaurant, and two pine trees flanking the entryway were also decorated with the same red and green lights, creating a festive, holiday atmosphere.

Quinn helped her out of the car, tucking her hand in
the crook of his arm to help her navigate the patches of snow and ice in her high heels. A large Christmas wreath was attached to the front door, the scent of pine reminding her that Christmas had only been a couple of days ago.

There was some sort of holiday party being held in the bar/lounge area, and Leila quickly averted her gaze, hoping she wouldn’t run into anyone she knew. Not that she needed to explain why she was having dinner with Quinn, but, still, there was nothing a small town like Cedar Bluff loved more than hot gossip.

And she preferred not to have her name linked with Quinn’s. After that kiss in the physicians’ lounge, she was determined not to be another notch on this particular Latin lover’s bedpost.

He might be a father, but Quinn also seemed to be the type of man who could easily leave a trail of brokenhearted women behind him. He was too damn charismatic.

The maitre d’ showed them to their table, a small private table isolated from the rest of the dining room by a large column yet providing a spectacular view overlooking the frosty, white-tipped waves of Lake Michigan.

“This is a beautiful place,” she told him. “Thanks for bringing me.”

“You’re very welcome.” Quinn took the wine list from the maitre d’. “Would you like a glass of wine?”

“Sure.” One glass wouldn’t hurt, would it?

His gaze caught hers across the table. “My favorite is Italian wine of course, but you can choose whatever you’d like for this evening.”

She waved a hand. “No, go ahead. My husband always claimed I never had a memory for good wine.”

“Your husband?” The words were soft but the intensity of his gaze was fierce.

She lifted her chin, refusing to feel guilty. “They found a brain tumor and he was dead within six months.”

“I’m sorry.” For a moment she could have sworn there was a flash of empathy in his gaze. “Losing him couldn’t have been easy.”

“No, it wasn’t.” Talking about George wasn’t something she often did either. “I loved him very much.”

He stared at her for a long moment. “How long ago did he pass away?”

“Two years. But I still miss him.” It was the truth, she did miss him. Although, if she was honest, she’d admit she hadn’t thought as much about George since she’d kissed Quinn. The gentle love they’d shared had been overshadowed by Quinn’s passion.

Lust was not love, she reminded herself.

The waiter returned, interrupting the slightly tense silence that had grown between them. Quinn ordered the wine. Then the conversation turned to mundane topics as they both perused the menu.

After they chose their dishes, another awkward silence fell between them. Leila tried to think of a neutral topic of conversation, but her mind went blank.

Why in the world had she agreed to this dinner?

“What made you choose Cedar Bluff Hospital as a place to practice medicine?” she asked, falling back on the respective medical profession. “I’ll admit from the very beginning I had you pegged as someone that
would have been more at home at a larger, more prestigious one.”

“I couldn’t care less about the prestige offered by any top medical center.” Quinn lifted his glass of wine and took a tentative sip, then nodded to the waiter to pour more. “I came here for Danny.”

His simple statement rang with truth, causing a pang of guilt for her initial assessment of his priorities. Clearly, Quinn loved his son.

“Very admirable,” she murmured, thinking of how difficult it must be as a single man to raise a son on his own. Especially a mute son. She might never have wanted her own children, but she still enjoyed them. Their innocence. Their unconditional love.

“Not admirable. Practical. I grew up in New York and went to college in Boston. But I like it here. Cedar Bluff is a nice change.” His tone was brisk, matter-of-fact, and didn’t encourage further discussion. “Leila, are you ready to order?”

“Of course. I’ll have the apricot grilled salmon,” she told the waiter.

“And I’ll have the house specialty prime rib, prepared medium-rare,” Quinn said, closing his menu with a snap.

The waiter disappeared, leaving them alone again.

She sneaked a glance at his handsome, chiseled features. His white shirt and black trousers with the charcoal-gray coat looked elegant on him. What was she doing here with a man like Quinn? He dressed as if he posed as a magazine cover model. He was so different from George, and not just because her husband had been a few years older and had preferred the typical
professor tweed. They were different in almost every single way.

She stared through the window at the red and green lights reflected on the water. They didn’t even have their meal yet. What on earth would they talk about during the next hour? She couldn’t begin to imagine.

She was tempted to finish off her wine in one large gulp. “I guess I’m out of practice,” she said with a sigh.

“No, it’s not that.” Quinn reached over to take her hand in his large brown one. His thumb stroked the back of her hand, sending shivers up her arm. “You’re thinking too much.”

Thinking at all was nearly impossible with him touching her. But she refused to let him distract her. “It’s no use, Quinn. This was a very nice gesture, but I think it’s rather obvious we don’t have anything in common.”

“You don’t think so?” He tightened his grip on her hand, urging her to meet his gaze. “
Quierda,
you’re wrong. We have this in common.” He lifted his other hand, displaying the fine tremor. “See what you do to me with a mere look?”

She swallowed hard, trying to tug her hand from his. “There has to be more than this,” she whispered.

“Do you feel anything remotely like this with anyone else?” he demanded, his impatience taking the form of arrogance. “Well? Do you?”

Slowly she shook her head.

“It’s the same for me,” he said, in a low urgent voice. “I haven’t felt anything like this for a woman in a long time.”

“Just because you’re lonely—” she began.