PRINCE CHARMING M.D. (14 page)

Trevor stared at the egg in its box. "At least it's small. I'd hate to have to be responsible for something heavy like a watermelon."

"They're kidding, aren't they?" Dana asked. "An egg?"

The waiters dropped off a basket in the center of the table.

"Your supplies are being delivered to you right now," Shelly went on. "There are hats, blankets, even some markers if you want to give your egg a little personality. You've got about fifteen minutes until the first workshop starts, so use that time to bond with your egg."

"I've got three kids at home," Bill said. "I've done plenty of bonding." But he dutifully dug through the basket and pulled out a tiny pink cap. "What the hell. With three boys, a girl would be nice." He put the cap on the egg and placed his egg back in its box.

Trevor took the basket from him and picked a blue cap for his egg. He also took a blanket and marker and handed the rest to Dana.

"What are you doing?" she asked as he started drawing on his egg.

"Making a face. This is T.J.—that's short for Trevor Junior."

She rolled her eyes. "I should have guessed." She passed on the basket without taking anything.

"You're not dressing your egg?"

She shook her head and stood. "It's just an egg, Trevor. I understand the point of the exercise, but I think it's silly to dress it up." She took her box and headed for the door.

Trevor shrugged, then put the pen down and studied his handiwork. Two dark eyes stared back at him. He'd added a dot for a nose and a wide, smiling mouth.

"'Morning, T.J.," he said, and tugged on the tiny cap. Nestled in the blanket and tucked in the box, the egg looked like a space alien newborn. Then he followed Dana.

A crowd had gathered by the door. People were talking and comparing "children." Dana turned toward him. "Let me see what you did," she said.

He showed off his egg, oddly proud of the little guy. "He kinda looks like me, don't you think?"

Dana eyed him. "You're taking this so seriously you're scaring me. If I didn't know better, I'd swear you were actually interested in having kids of your own."

"As a matter of fact—"

But he didn't get to finish his sentence. Dana had started turning back toward the door. Someone jostled her. She took an instinctive step to the side. One arm reached out for balance, her hand dropped and her egg fell to the floor with a loud
splat.

Shelly walked over and stared at the mess. "The cleaning
staff here hate
this particular exercise." She patted Dana's arm. "Don't worry, there are plenty more in the kitchen. Go tell them you need a new egg."

Color stained Dana's cheeks. "I'm not sure what happened. I got bumped and then it just sort of went flying."

Trevor leaned close. "I was going to suggest we get together later to let our eggs play, but I don't know that I want my egg around yours. I mean, I have a certain responsibility for my egg's safety."

Dana glared at him. "I can't decide if I should laugh or threaten you."

Kiss me, instead, he thought. But he didn't say it. All he managed was a gruff, "I'll save you a seat," as he headed for the classroom and she turned toward the kitchen.

Rain pounded against the tall glass windows. Dana sat in the lobby of the hotel and watched the storm. According to the weather reports, it wouldn't let up until the seminar was nearly over. Oddly enough, she didn't mind. The resort was beautiful, and the various classes and activities kept them so busy there wasn't much free time. She enjoyed the people she'd met, and most of all, she was having fun with Trevor.

She looked up and saw him crossing the lobby, walking toward her. Although it was only their third day, they'd already developed a routine. They took their morning breaks out here, and in the afternoon they relaxed in the garden sunroom in the back of the hotel.

Trevor walked with an easy grace. She'd grown used to seeing him casually dressed in jeans and a long-sleeved shirt or sweater, but she still wasn't used to his magnetic charm or his good looks. She was beginning to think she could go her whole life and not get used to being around him. As he got close, as if on cue her body began coming alive, with odd feelings coming from different sections. It was like an orchestra warming up.

Something fizzled low in her belly. Heat flashed in the center of her chest. Tingling whipped through her fingers, then jumped to her thighs and vibrated there.

Trevor flopped down on the sofa next to her and grinned. "What did you think of this morning's exercise?"

They'd broken up into small groups and had been given a business problem to solve. After an hour, they'd stopped to meditate for twenty minutes, led by Shelly, who despite her advanced pregnancy was still much more limber than Dana could ever hope to be. Following the meditation, they'd returned to their groups and worked on another business problem.

"I'm not sure," Dana said. "My group didn't solve the first problem, but we fixed the second. Was it because we'd learned from our mistakes, learned to work together, or was it really about using the meditation time to focus? It could be a combination of the three, I suppose. What about you?"

He placed his egg on the coffee table in front of them. Their two boxes were side by side. Dana didn't even want to think about the whole-egg exercise. She was having extraordinarily bad luck with her attempts to keep her egg whole.

"My group solved both problems," Trevor said. "But we were much faster and worked better the second time. I can see the advantage of using meditation to facilitate focus. One of the medical journals I've been reading has some information on patients meditating before surgery,
then
listening to those tapes during the procedure and while in recovery. Some people are suggesting the meditation helps the body heal faster." He leaned back, sitting so close his arm brushed against hers. "Who's to say they're wrong? There's so much we don't know about how the body gets sick and then heals itself."

"I agree. I remember caring for people who shouldn't have survived, let alone recovered, and they did. Then there were others who appeared to be healthy and strong, yet they didn't make it. Sometimes there's no predicting the outcome."

She was pleased with herself. After all, she'd strung four sentences together without blushing or stuttering.
A miracle, considering the waves of hormones cranking up her desire and making her want
to throw herself at him. She settled for a small sigh of contentment as his hand casually brushed against her thigh when he shifted on the sofa.

"I watched the news this morning," he said. "The storm is going to be a bad one. They're talking about the potential for flooding. We might not be able to get out for a while."

Dana glanced around at the high ceilings in the beautiful lobby, then out at the storm. "It wouldn't upset me too much to be trapped here. The people at the seminar are a lot of fun."

"What? You don't miss the hospital?" Trevor pretended outrage.

"I miss my friends. While I adore my job, I don't mind taking a break. And what do you miss?" She braced herself to hear that he was longing for his lady friends. Had he been calling Angie or Sally or any number of other women in the evenings? Their activities usually ended about nine. She and Trevor had stayed up with a few other people in
either the
lobby or the bar, getting to know one another and talking about the day's exercises. But she didn't know what he did once he went back to his room. She found it hard to believe he would be content to be on his own.

"I was just getting settled in my new place," Trevor said. "My work is still exciting, so I would have been happy to stay put. But I'm having a great time here. The company is very pleasant."

She told herself he didn't necessarily mean her, but that didn't stop a warm glow from washing over her.

"Hey, you two." Bill waved and walked over to them. "A group of us are talking about ordering in pizza for lunch. We thought we'd better do it before the rain gets worse. You want in?"

"Sure." Trevor reached for his wallet and handed Bill a twenty.

"I left my purse upstairs," Dana said.

"Don't worry about it," Trevor told her. "I've got you covered."

Bill gave her a wink. "The sunroom in back at twelve-thirty. See you there."

"Thanks," she said after Bill had left. "I'll pay you back."

"It's just pizza." Trevor reached forward and picked up the small box containing her egg.

"But…" She bit her lip. There was no point in arguing. She would just look like an ungracious slob. "Thank you."

She knew why his action made her uncomfortable. Because they knew each other, they'd been spending a lot of time together. Everyone attending the seminar assumed they were a couple. It was an interesting phenomenon. At first, a few of the women had tried flirting with Trevor, but he'd simply ignored them and they'd stopped. Then she'd noticed she and Trevor were being invited to things together. A part of her wanted to set the record straight, while the rest of her was happy to play along. It was a harmless fantasy, right? Like mooning after a rock star or an actor. Trevor was too perfect to be a real flesh-and-blood man.

"When did you get a new egg?" he asked. "Last night?"

She flushed. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"This is a different egg from the one you had yesterday." He pointed to a few brown flecks on the shell. "These are new."

"They were on the other side of the egg," she lied, wondering why it was so hard for her to keep her egg in one piece.

He looked at her and shook his head. "I don't think so. I would have remembered. So what happened?"

She snatched the egg from him and gripped the box in her hand. "Nothing happened." He raised his eyebrows. She exhaled in frustration. "All right. I'll tell you, although I don't understand what the big deal is. I was getting dressed this morning. Like you, I had the television on to catch the weather report. They started talking about the storm just as I was reaching for my watch. I turned away from the dresser and accidentally knocked the box onto the floor."

He winced. "Jeez, Dana, this makes what, three eggs or four?"

"It was an accident."

"Three?"

"Four," she grumbled. She hated the egg exercise. Maybe because she'd gotten off to a bad start. "Don't you be critical of
me.
I was a maternity nurse for years and I did just fine with newborns. I'm a very caring and careful person. I just can't relate to an egg, okay?"

He held up his hands in a gesture of surrender. "You don't have to yell at me. I'm not saying anything."

"I'm not yelling," she said between gritted teeth. "I'm simply explaining I don't worry about an egg the way I would a child or an adult. An egg isn't alive."

He looked startled, as if she'd suddenly slapped him or stripped off her clothes.

"Don't say that," he commanded in mock horror. "He'll hear you."

She looked around. "He who?"

"T.J." Trevor picked up his small box and cradled it close to his chest. "Hush, little guy. She didn't mean it. Of course you're real. That's it. Smile for Papa. Good boy. You are so darn clever."

Dana felt her mouth drop open. "You're taking this egg thing way too seriously."

She glanced at the box. Every day there had been modifications. On the second morning she'd noticed Trevor had drawn trucks and boats on the inside of the container. For stimulation, he'd told her seriously. Children needed that to develop properly. Today there was a shiny miniature paper airplane and a football, both made out of foil gum wrappers.

"I'm practicing," he said.

"For?"

"Fatherhood. I've always wanted kids and I think I'd be a good dad." He glanced knowingly at her box. "Although we can't say the same thing about you, can we?"

She realized he'd given her the perfect out. "You're right," she said, pretending to be serious.

His eyebrows drew together. "Dana, no. I was teasing you. You'll be a terrific parent."

"Maybe." She drew in a breath, ready to pounce. "But you are right about what you said. I would be a lousy dad."

"You set me up," he said accusingly.

She chuckled.

He set his egg on the coffee table,
then
lunged for her. She shrieked as he began to tickle her, his long fingers dancing along the side of her rib cage.