PRINCE CHARMING M.D. (19 page)

"Neither of us was thinking last night," she said. "I understand that and I want you to know it won't be a problem." She tried to smile and had a feeling she failed pretty miserably. "What I'm trying to say is that
I
won't be a problem. I know it didn't mean anything, so don't worry that I'll get all weird and emotional on you."

Trevor stared at her. She tried reading his expression, but his face was an impassive mask. He didn't bother reaching for clothes or sitting down. His only physical act was to cross his arms over his chest.

"Go on," he told her.

"Yes, well, like I said, it's not a problem. I'm willing to admit the sex was terrific, so I won't be able to pretend it never happened, but I don't feel the need to talk about it. We can go back to the hospital and just be co-workers again. I think that's probably for the best." She reached for her shoes,
then
straightened. "Oh, I would prefer that you not discuss this with anyone. I don't want to be the object of hospital gossip and I don't imagine you want that, either."

Dana finished her speech. She was pretty pleased with how it came out, especially considering she hadn't had time to practice. As she waited for his response, she was less than pleased to realize a part of her hoped he would protest. That instead of calmly agreeing her plan was
sensible,
he would sweep her into his arm?
and
tell her he cared about her, maybe even loved her.

You're a fool, she told herself silently. When are you going to get over him?

She didn't have an answer for that. The trick with Trevor was never to be in a position where getting over him was necessary. Unfortunately, she might be too late for that.

He stared at her for a long time. She still couldn't read his expression. Something flashed across his face. Something that, if he'd been another kind of man, she might have labeled as hurt. But this was Trevor MacAllister and she knew better. She doubted he'd ever been in love even once in his life.

Chapter Ten

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H
e
was a doctor and he knew intellectually that words didn't physically wound. Yet he felt as though she'd ripped open his chest and left him to bleed to death.

Trevor stood in the center of his hotel room and listened to Dana as she went on about how she appreciated his understanding in this matter and how important it was for them to maintain a professional relationship.

"I know your career is important to you," he heard himself say, as if from a distance. "You've worked hard to be where you are."

She flashed him a grateful smile. "Thanks for understanding."

"Of course I understand. It's not that difficult. You busted your butt in college, you work long hours,
you're
very successful. Why wouldn't I get it?"

Her blue eyes widened. "Trevor, what's wrong? Are you angry? I would have thought you'd be pleased with what I was telling you. I know you don't want me making things difficult."

She had no clue what he wanted, but that was reasonable. He wasn't so sure what he wanted, either. The one thing he knew was that he didn't want to be having this conversation.

He walked to the edge of the bed and sat down. Her expression was wary, as if she wasn't sure what he was going to do or say next. He glanced at his chest, but there was no open wound, no blood, no physical evidence that she was ripping out his heart.

"About last night," he began,
then
had to stop to clear his throat. He was setting himself up to be slammed down, but he couldn't stop the words. "Do you regret it?"

She smiled. "No. Of course not. How could I? The sex was amazing."

She continued to talk, but he didn't hear the rest of it. He supposed that in time he would be pleased she'd enjoyed his technique, such as it was. He didn't fool himself. He hadn't been with dozens of women and he wasn't perfect in bed. Everything he'd done last night had been in an effort to please the woman he cared about. Not because of ego, but because of heart.

He shivered,
then
realized the temperature of the room was fine. His chill came from the inside. At least he hadn't told her the truth. That was something. He could go back to the hospital, the rumors would continue and no one would know that he'd wanted more than a night of great sex.

It was the same as it had been all those years ago. In high school he'd loved Dana, but it hadn't mattered. Once again, she'd captured his interest and his affections, and it still didn't matter. As a young man, he'd adored her. As a grown man, he'd wanted to love her. She, however, wasn't interested in that. At least not from him.

"Trevor," she said, breaking into his thoughts. "You won't say anything, will you?"

She looked so damned pretty standing there. All worried and earnest. It just didn't occur to her that this was more than a one-night stand. She couldn't comprehend that he had depth and feelings, that something might matter to him. She was still reacting to what had happened all those years ago.

The irony was, while he'd been in the shower he'd fantasized about telling her how he felt about her. Worse, he'd toyed with the idea of proposing. Thank God he'd come to his senses in time.

"No, I won't say a word," he told her. "About anything."

The drive back to Honeygrove was awkward. Not only because he couldn't think of anything to say to her, but because of the contrast to the ride down to the seminar. He kept thinking about how much they'd talked and laughed. If he'd known becoming lovers would have changed everything, he would have tried harder to resist.

For once, even a sunny day and the open road weren't enough to make him feel better. All he wanted was to get them back to the town-house complex so they could say goodbye and be done with it. Flashes of their week together kept drifting through his mind. He had too many memories of Dana. Her laughing in the different classes. Her look of horror the first time she'd dropped her egg. The way she'd been so calm and competent while helping Shelly deliver her baby. The fire in her eyes while they'd made love.

And now he was supposed to return to his regular life, as if none of this had ever happened. No problem, he told himself. He'd buried himself in work before; he could do it again. It was probably for the best. After all, Dana still wasn't willing to give him the benefit of the doubt.

He wrestled with that, wondering if he was judging her too harshly. She'd been fine at the seminar, but then they'd been away from the hospital gossip and everything that went with it. Maybe if they had a chance to spend time together away from everyone else, it could work. He knew he was interested, but was she? Could he risk asking? Could he risk passing up this opportunity, knowing he might not have another chance with her?

He pulled into the town-house complex and stopped in front of her place. As she climbed out of the passenger seat, he leaned over, opened the glove compartment and popped the trunk. They met behind the car. He handed her the suitcase she'd brought.

"Thanks for driving me home," she said. Her gaze was direct, but he read the questions in her eyes. She wasn't sure what was going on. Great, that made two of them.

"No problem." He wondered what else to say. Thanking her for a good time wasn't right. He didn't dare admit his feelings, because it was unlikely she would believe him. "Dana, I—"

He what?

She looked at him. "Yes, Trevor?"

"I'd like to see you again. Not at the hospital," he added hastily. "I'm talking about us going out."

She stared at him as if he'd started speaking a foreign language. "Why?"

So much for sweeping her off her feet. He didn't doubt that she'd enjoyed their time together, especially last night, but it had obviously meant more to him than to her.

"Right," he said. "Why? Good
question,
and I don't have an answer with me now. Never mind. Sorry to bother you." He turned away.

She grabbed his arm. "Trevor, wait. I'm serious. Why do you want to see me? You're already dating Angie and Sally, and those are only the two I know about." She gave him a smile. "It's not that I don't like you—I do. I think you're a terrific surgeon and, despite everything, a lot of fun. But the last thing you need is another woman in your life. And I don't like to get involved with someone unless it'll be exclusive."

So now he knew the rumors. He had an idea about who Sally and Angie were, but he wasn't interested in dating either of them. "I told you I haven't been out with anyone since I've moved here." He shrugged. "I guess my word doesn't matter."

"I don't understand. They've both talked about going out with you. They mention days, times, places. Are you telling me they're lying?"

"I'm telling you I haven't been on a date in months. How often am I supposed to be seeing them?"

She drew her eyebrows together. "Almost every night, it seems."

"I'm pretty rested for a guy with that kind of social life. You live next door, Dana. You hear my television. You know when my car pulls out of the garage. Last night I didn't make love like a guy who's been getting it on a regular basis. Don't look so confused. This isn't hard to figure out. You tell
me
what's going on."

With that he returned to his car and started the engine. After hitting the remote control to open his garage door, he drove inside and parked. As much as he wanted Dana to come running after him and tell him that she'd been wrong about everything, he knew it wasn't going to happen. After all, she had no reason to believe him and every reason to think he was lying.

But that truth didn't stop him from wanting it to be different, from wanting
her
to trust him. He wanted her to see beyond what the world saw, to understand that the man inside had little to do with the world's view of Trevor MacAllister.

He wanted too much. Where Dana was concerned, he always had.

Dana was the first to arrive at Granetti's. It was barely four in the afternoon, so the after-work crowd hadn't started to fill the place. She snagged a corner booth and sat facing the door so she could see when Katie and Lee walked in. She'd been back from the seminar nearly a week and she desperately needed to talk to her friends. Between the rush of attempting to get caught up from all the work she'd missed and coordinating their busy schedules, this was the first available moment the three of them could squeeze in.

Dana refused the waiter's offer for a drink, preferring to wait until her friends showed up. She stared off into the distance, trying to figure out what was wrong with her. It wasn't just too much work to do. She was always rushed, so that wasn't news. It was the lingering aftereffect of everything that had happened, she decided. Dealing with the reality that she and Trevor had made love.

She shuddered at the thought. Not out of horror, but out of longing and the forbidden memory of how wonderful everything had been between them. Despite being thirty and not even close to being a virgin, she hadn't had lots of men in her life. She was selective. Sometimes, according to her mother, too picky.
Which made her decision to sleep with Trevor even more out of character.
But that wasn't what was bothering her. It wasn't what they'd done; it was how he was acting now.

She sucked in a deep breath and told herself she'd gotten exactly what she'd asked for. He was polite, friendly and completely professional. Not by a smile or a wink did he hint that they'd ever been more than colleagues. If she hadn't actually been naked with him that night, she would swear nothing had ever happened and nothing would. But she
had
been there. She remembered, perhaps in too much detail, all they'd done. She also remembered his request to continue seeing her.

What she wanted to know was why.

"Obviously it's a pressing problem," a voice said.

Dana glanced up and saw her two friends standing by the table. She jumped. "I didn't see you come in."

"We could tell." Katie slid into the booth. "I thought your voice sounded funny when you called. What's wrong?"

Lee settled next to Katie and motioned for the waiter. "Don't bother denying it, Dana. I heard it, too. You know you're going to end up spilling your guts, so just give in with grace and dignity."

Despite her confusion and the tension filling her body, Dana had to laugh. These two had been her friends since grade school. She trusted them implicitly; they were the family she'd always wanted. She'd asked to meet with them because she valued and needed their counsel.

While they gave their drink orders and decided they would wait a bit to have their early dinner, Dana tried to think of a delicate way to bring them up to date with what had been happening.