Flirting with the Society Doctor (5 page)

“Vale, don't,” she bit out. Why was he being so touchy-feely? She wasn't sure how much more touchy-feely she could handle.

“Don't?” He didn't take the hint, didn't let her go. “I have to keep you close. You're here to protect me from my family.”

“Sure,” she snorted. “Because now that I've met them I see how scary they are.”

“They scare you, too? Now you understand why I need you to intervene.” His smile was contagious, and melted away the worry gnawing in her belly, melted her insides to silly feminine goop.

“They just want you to be happy.” She stepped back, unable to deal with what being in his arms did to her. “If you don't want them matchmaking, just tell them.”

“I'm so glad you suggested that, because I've never thought about just telling my mother that I'm not interested in meeting a nice girl and settling down.”

She narrowed her gaze. “In case you're wondering, sarcasm does not become you.”

“Haven't you heard? Everything becomes me.” His movie-star white teeth flashed. Rather than saying anything, he took her hand and led her away from the wedding festivities and out toward the high gate that
opened to the sand dunes behind the mansion. A private boardwalk led out to the billowing Atlantic.

Faith's breath caught at the beauty of the white-capped waves rolling in, at how the almost set sun painted the sky with pinks, purples, and blues.

For just a moment she wanted to believe this was real, that Vale had invited her to his parents' this weekend because he wanted to be with her, that he missed her as much as she missed him when they were apart. She wanted to believe that they were going for a walk on the beach, holding hands, sharing the moment when the sun dipped from the sky. Not for show, not as friends or colleagues, but as lovers.

And that when it was all over she wouldn't have a broken heart. She definitely wanted to believe that because otherwise how could she allow herself to even indulge in the fantasy?

“Why haven't you?” She slipped off her heels and wiggled her toes in the warm sand.

He glanced up from where he pulled off his shoes and socks, dropping them onto the sand, and rolled up the cuffs of his dark slacks. “Why haven't I what?”

He was so gorgeous. More breathtaking than the sunset. More beautiful. More what she wanted, but shouldn't.

She dropped her heels next to his shoes. “Met a nice girl and settled down.”

“Don't start, Faith.” He grabbed her hand and headed toward the surf.

“What?” She stumbled, trying to keep up with his pace as he dragged her behind him, sand flying up at her ankles.

“Matchmaking,” he spat the word out. “I don't need
you fixing me up with friends any more than I need my family doing so.”

As if she'd fix Vale up with one of her friends. Besides, thanks to the long hours she worked, few of her friends would even claim her these days.

“I can assure you I'd never do that to any of my friends. I like them too much to introduce them to you.”

“Good, because if I ever marry, I'll find the woman all by myself.”

Which meant he hadn't already found her.

Not that Faith thought he had. Just that part of her had hoped someday he'd realize how good it might be between them. Then again, she imagined Vale was the kind of man who it was always good between.

Between the sheets, between the car seats, between the sand and the waves.

Where had that thought come from? She wasn't prone to lust. Was used to dealing with how he made her feel and usually did a great job of suppressing her baser instincts. So why hadn't she then?

She gulped, tearing her gaze from him to stare out at the ocean. Coming here with him had been a horrible mistake. One she'd likely live to regret.

“What about you?”

“Me?” She knew his gaze was on her, but she didn't dare look at him. He'd see too much in her eyes, would instantly realize that she'd met the man she wanted for all time during a job interview eighteen months ago.

No! She hadn't met the man she wanted for all time. Vale was not that man. There was no
that man
. All she felt for Vale was physical attraction and professional admiration. That was it. Nothing more.

“Why haven't you married?” he clarified, his words
nipping at her soul as surely as the tide tugged at her feet.

“I imagine someday I'll meet someone who'll sweep me off my feet.” Someone who'd make her forget how Vale's lips had felt against hers, how even now thoughts of him pushing her back onto the sand and kissing her danced through her mind. Not that she thought things would last with that man either. She didn't.

Men left. It was what they did best.

“And give you babies to take to soccer practice?”

She tried not to let images of blue-eyed imps dribbling the ball toward the goal take over her mind. She did not want to have Vale's babies. She didn't want babies period. Sure, the making them might be fun, but then she'd be like her mother, alone, raising a child.

Only her mother hadn't been able to stand being alone and had flitted from one loveless marriage to another, from one man who'd eventually leave her to another.

“I'm in no hurry at this point in my life to meet someone or even think about marriage and babies. My career is what's most important.”

“Until you achieve your career goals?” he teased, but his eyes held a steely quality.

“It's not as if I'm going to reach a certain point, mark my career off my life to-do list, then move on to marriage and children, Vale.” She glanced out at the horizon, spotting the silhouette of a ferry off in the distance. “Just that at some point down the line I'd like to believe I can have all the things I want.”

She wouldn't remind him that what she wanted was a real house with a real yard for her dog to play in. No man required.

“You're a special woman, Faith. If anyone can ever have it all, I'm sure it's you.”

She glanced at him, saw the sincerity on his face, and smiled. “Thank you, Vale. That quite simply might be the nicest thing you've ever said to me.”

“You jest.” His forehead wrinkled. “I've complimented you before.”

“About my work, yes. Me? No.”

He stopped walking, turned to face her. His hand squeezed hers reassuringly. “Just tonight I told you what a beautiful woman you are.”

“Tthat's d-different,” she stammered, wondering at the light in his eyes. Was it the reflection of the last golden rays dancing across the sky? Or was Vale looking at her as if she really was beautiful?

His brow lifted. “Because you don't believe me when I say that you are beautiful?”

“I've seen the women you date. I'm not even in the same league.” Models, actresses, heiresses, he went through them all.

“True,” he agreed, twisting the knife in her gut. He could at least have been polite and not said anything.

She'd never have him, knew she never would, and was foolish to have these momentary lapses where she dreamed she might.

“None of the women I've known hold a candle to you, Faith. Not a single one.”

She wanted to look away, wanted to shield her eyes from his, but she couldn't. Not when he looked at her as if he believed what he said, as if he really did believe she was more beautiful than the women he escorted to New York's finest venues. What else had they put in her hair color other than truth serum? A dose of
hear what you want to hear
?

“Thank you,” she said for lack of knowing what else to say but knowing the situation called for something.
She was imagining the softening of his gaze, the pressure of his hand holding hers. “That's a kind thing to say.”

“You don't make me feel kind, Faith.”

She stared up at him. “No?”

“No.” Had his mouth moved closer to hers?

She licked her lips, nervously, yet even as she did so, she'd instinctively known his gaze would follow her movements. She wasn't a fool, wasn't imagining this chemistry between them. Truth serum, gullibility, whatever, the sparks arcing between them would light up lower Manhattan. “What do I make you feel, Vale?”

 

Great question and one Vale wasn't sure of the answer to.

He wanted her. Which surprised him. Usually he was either instantly attracted to a woman or he wasn't attracted at all.

With all women, he got what he wanted with little effort. Faith was different. He'd spent more time with her than with any other woman, knew her better, had let her know him better, yet what did he really know? Not even the name of her mysterious boyfriend.

Vale immediately lowered his mouth to cover hers, telling himself the surge of emotion in his chest was not jealousy of a man he'd never met. Whatever, Faith's lips were sweet beneath his and pleasure soon replaced the unwanted emotional surge.

Soft, full, yielding, yet demanding, she returned his kiss. If there was another man in her life, their relationship couldn't be too serious. Otherwise Faith wouldn't kiss him back. Yet she didn't do so whole-heartedly, which gave him pause. He could read her every thought,
feel the conflicting sensations swirling inside that brilliant mind of hers. She wanted him, yet she didn't.

He understood perfectly because he felt exactly the same.

“I want to make love to you, Faith, but I'm not willing to ruin our professional relationship.”

Her eyes widened at his admission, greener than the most precious emerald.

“You're more important to me than a quick rumble between the sheets.” His words said one thing, but he asked her a question with his eyes. A question he knew the answer to, but asked all the same in the hope he was wrong about Faith.

“Professional relationship at stake or not, I'm not willing to be just a rumble between any man's sheets, Vale. I'm not you. I don't do casual sex.”

He'd known, but still disappointment filled him at her response.

“Understood.” He ran his fingers along her cheek, thinking her more beautiful than the sunset, more tempting than any siren of the sea, more precious than any gem in a treasure trove, loving how his name sounded on her lips. “But another kiss wouldn't hurt anything.”

“No.” Her lips hovered centimeters from his mouth, her breath warm, inviting, making him want more than she was willing to give. “One more kiss wouldn't hurt, Vale. But just one more because I won't be one of your girls. We aren't having a weekend fling or rumble between your sheets or whatever you want to call it.”

“Okay,” he agreed, breathing in her warm, vanilla scent, so clean and refreshing, like her. “Just one more kiss because you aren't one of my girls and don't want to be a rumble between my sheets this weekend.”

He continued to tell himself once more while he
kissed Faith reverently, his hands cupping her face, his fingers partially threaded into her pulled-up hair, his gaze locked with hers.

The kiss was gentle, searching, desperate and yet lingering as if they had all the time in the world to explore each other's lips. It was a kiss unlike any Vale had ever experienced.

A kiss that made him wonder what else with Faith would be like nothing he'd ever experienced.

That wonder both thrilled him and scared the living hell out of him.

 

Feeling like a plucked chicken in a room full of swans, Faith sat in the upstairs media room with the women staying at the Wakefields' Cape May mansion. Sharon, Angela, two of Sharon's college friends, Vale's other cousin Monica, and Steve's younger sister, Francis Woodard. Vale's mother and Sharon's parents had retired to bed around ten, claiming they were too tired to sit up with the younger women and reminding Sharon to be sure to get her beauty sleep so she wouldn't have bags under her eyes.

The men had gone out for drinks and Steve's bachelor party, Vale included. Each second that ticked by brought his return closer. And when he returned they'd be expected to share a bedroom. Did Vale sleep in pajamas? Or would he slide between the sheets in nothing more than he'd brought into the world?

“Tell us,” Francis cried after downing a shot of something bright red and grabbing Faith's hand, pulling her from her meanderings. “What's it like, dating Very Scrumptious Vale?”

She didn't want to lie, but what could she say? “Mostly, we just work together.”

“Honey, we all saw that kiss down on the beach.” Francis fanned her face with exaggeration. “If you were on the clock, sign me up for medical school.”

Faith's face burned. Okay, so the groom's little sister had a point. But how did she explain what she didn't understand herself?

“It's complicated.”

“Love always is,” Sharon sighed.

“We're not in love,” Faith quickly denied, unwilling to perpetuate the misconception.

“I saw the way Vale looks at you.” At Faith's raised eyebrow, Sharon went on. “He looked at you as if you're the only woman in the world, as if he would have liked to push you down in the sand and made love to you right there, the world be damned.” She smiled, taking on a dreamy look. “I know love. It's exactly the same way Steve looks at me.”

“You're mistaken.” Vale had looked at her with lust because she was convenient, because they were at a wedding and people did stupid things at weddings. Like get married and believe in happily ever after.

“I know Vale,” Sharon boasted. “He wants you.”

Yes, he'd told her that. And, truth was, just having Vale desire her was so much more than she'd ever dreamed possible. So why had she said no?

He hadn't said the words out loud, but essentially he'd been asking her to have an affair with him. A fling that would last the weekend and be done when they left the magic of the beach.

But she couldn't say yes, not when she'd be expected to work side by side with him as if nothing had happened.