PRINCE CHARMING M.D. (28 page)

"I didn't keep it a secret on purpose," she protested. "I just didn't think to tell him."

"If you want to keep him, you're going to have to start thinking. Tell him the truth. Tell him that you're scared, but you really care about him and you want another chance. Tell him
this matters
. He looked hurt, so expect him to lash out. But he obviously cares about you. That will help."

Dana nodded. Her eyes burned and she knew she was close to tears. "I'll try," she said.

She knew Roger only wanted to make her feel better so she attempted a smile. She had a feeling it didn't come out very happy. Her mouth felt numb, as did her body. She couldn't stop shaking. She had the most horrible feeling she'd just destroyed something very wonderful, losing her chance before she'd even been sure she wanted one.

Chapter Fifteen

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T
revor sat in his garage for a long time before turning off the convertible's engine and climbing out of the car. Maybe coming home had been a mistake. Maybe he should have gone with his parents to another restaurant. Perhaps company would have distracted him from what he'd seen—Dana having dinner with another man. And not just dinner. He'd noticed her long before she'd glanced up and seen him watching. He'd observed the heads bent close together, the intensity that radiated from both people.

The pain in his gut increased. He tried to erase the image, but it had burned itself into his brain. In some ways it was the horror of the past repeating itself. Once again he'd allowed himself to believe in a woman and she'd betrayed him.

Trevor pulled open the door and stepped into the town house. It wasn't that big a deal, he told himself. He and Dana weren't married; they were dating. Did he have any right to complain?

"Damn straight," he growled, and made a fist. But before he could pound his hand into the wall, he reminded himself he had two surgeries scheduled for the next day. He couldn't risk injuring himself for the sake of his pride.

Without physical release, the anger and frustration bubbled inside him. He paced the length of the living room, turned and repeated the pattern.

He cared about her. That's what got to him, eating him from the inside out. He'd thought she was different. He'd thought
she
cared. In his heart he'd wanted their relationship to have meaning for her, too. He'd wanted her to see that he was all she needed in a man. He'd wanted…

"All of it," he muttered. "Marriage. Commitment. Family. Forever."

He'd been a fool. Dana was just like the rest of them. He'd made a mistake in thinking he could love her and have that love returned.

He sank onto the sofa and concentrated on ignoring the pain. This wasn't as bad as finding Vanessa, he told himself. After all, she'd been his wife and her betrayal had been more—

More what? Personal? Direct? More meaningful? Did a betrayal have meaning? He shook his head to try to clear it. In the end, it didn't matter a damn. He'd trusted Dana and she'd let him down. End of story.

He rose to his feet. Maybe a drink would help him forget. He wouldn't get drunk—he couldn't work with a hangover, either, but maybe something to take the edge off. He didn't dare go for a drive. Not until he was under control.

He crossed to the wet bar. A soft knock on the door halted him in midstride.

He knew. As surely as he believed the sun would rise in the morning, he knew who was out there on his porch. He told himself not to bother answering. She had nothing to say that he wanted to hear. Yet even as he repeated the instruction to pretend he wasn't home, he moved toward the door and flung it open.

She stood illuminated by porch light. Her eyes were wide, her face pale. Even her light makeup couldn't hide the ashen undertones of her skin. Her mouth trembled and she twisted her purse strap in her hands.

The obvious signs of nervousness should have made him feel better. But they were too little, too late. He stared at her, not inviting her in, not speaking. Just staring. Wondering what combination of facial features had first drawn him to her. What words had she uttered? How had she smiled to allow him to believe again, to hope that this time there was a chance?

"I can explain," she said, her gaze steady. "It's not what you think."

He stepped back from the door, neither inviting her in nor telling her to leave. She entered on her own, then crossed the foyer and followed him into the living room.

He chose not to sit down. Instead he leaned against the wet bar and glared at her. She continued to look back at him, her chin high as if with pride, but her faint trembling giving away her apprehension.

"I told you I was having dinner with a friend from college," she said. "That's true. Roger and I knew each other back then."

"You conveniently left out the fact that you were having dinner with a man, and an ex-boyfriend." He added the last, firing blindly, wondering if it was true. When she flinched and blushed, he knew it was. The pain in his gut intensified anew.

"Trevor, please. I'll admit I didn't say Roger was a man, but only because I didn't think of it. He's just a friend. If I was sneaking around, would we have gone somewhere public?"

"Certainly. You didn't expect me to be there." He turned away, not wanting her to read his agony. "Dammit, Dana, I was out with my parents. How do you think this made them feel? What are they supposed to think?" He held up his hand. "Stupid question. I take it back. They're supposed to think the truth. That you don't give a damn about me or what's going on here."

She sank onto the sofa and bowed her head. "That's not true. I do care. I don't know why I didn't tell you about Roger, but I swear it was just an accident. I'm not interested in him. There's nothing going on. He's happily married to a terrific woman. They've got three kids and are madly in love." She opened her purse and pulled out a business card. "He said to call him if you didn't believe me. He'll tell you. You can even call his wife. He doesn't have anything to hide and I haven't done anything wrong. I'll admit to poor judgment, but not to anything premeditated."

"So if you didn't plan to make a fool of me everything is fine?" His voice vibrated with fury.

Dana flinched. "Why aren't you listening? Roger is in town on business. He called and asked me to dinner. One of the reasons I went is that he's easy to talk to. I thought he could be a sounding board for me. I happen to have some confusing things going on in my personal life right now. I wanted to get his advice on you, Trevor. You are who we were talking about. I told him how wonderful you are and how I'm not sure…" Her voice trailed off. She sucked in a breath. "How I'm not sure about anything."

The pain had reached an unbearable pitch. He knew from past experience it would level out there for a few days,
then
crank down just enough to let him survive. In his head he even knew that in time it would stop hurting altogether. He might never trust again, but the gaping wound would eventually scar over. Yet in his heart he knew he would hurt forever. Because there had been something special about Dana. He'd loved her … he was such a jackass, he probably still did.

She straightened. "Trevor, this is probably not going to make sense to you, but I swear it's the truth. I really like you and
I
like being with you, but sometimes it's hard for me. You're so successful and so handsome. All these women want you and they say things. I get confused. I thought Roger could help me with that. I wanted to talk about the rumors, about how people made them up. They weren't about you at all."

The click was audible. Trevor wondered why he hadn't heard it before. Everything fell into place. "Exactly," he said.

"What?"

"It wasn't about me. Why didn't I see that before?"

"I—I don't understand."

He folded his arms over his chest. "None of this was ever about me. This so-called relationship was just a reaction to the hype."

"No. That's not what I mean," she told him. "I'm not sure I understand exactly what you're saying, but I think you're telling me I was only interested in what other people thought. That's not completely true. I had trouble because of what the nurses were saying. That they were going out with you and sleeping with you. But I believe you now."

"Gee, thanks. I guess that makes everything better."

His sarcasm made her shudder. "Trevor, don't do this. Don't shut me out."

"What choice do I have? I was taken in by you. I believed you. I believed in us. I thought you wanted what I did. That this mattered." He turned toward her. "I suppose there's a certain justice in all this. I was trying like crazy to prove myself to you, while you were just having fun. You treated me the way you assumed I treated women. For the moment, for the pleasure, with no regard for the future or any feelings on either side. At least there weren't any on your side."

She sprang to her feet. "That's not true."

"Isn't it? Can you look me in the eye and tell me you care?"

She glared at him. "Yes."

"How much?"

Her mouth opened, but she didn't speak.

"Love?" he asked. "Do you love me? Or is 'like' better? Keeping with words starting with the letter
l
let's just cut to the chase. Lust. That's what this is about. You wanted me in bed—nothing more. Little more. If I'd been the bastard everyone assumes, I would have had this coming. But I'm just a guy, Dana. No better, no worse than anyone else. I didn't deserve this. And you sure as hell didn't deserve me."

Tears filled her eyes. He braced himself so he wouldn't react. She reached out a hand to him. They were half a room apart, so he didn't have to worry about her actually touching him. He could stay strong as long as she didn't get too close.

"It wasn't ever like that," she whispered. "I do like you."

"I don't believe you."

"How can you not? It's true."

"Gee, Dana, you're telling the truth and someone
is doubting
your word. Now you know what that feels like. Not much fun, is it?" He walked to the front door and put his hand on the knob. "I'll give you that you might have had some feelings for me, but I'm willing to bet you never once thought about letting yourself fall in love with me. If anything, you saw that as something to be avoided."

Her mouth parted. The guilt made her turn away. Even though he'd known the truth, he was still disappointed to read it on her face. He'd hoped for more.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. Tears spilled over her lower lids. "I'm so sorry."

"That's not good enough. I'd wanted more than this from you. From both of us. I thought—" He opened the door. "I won't bother boring you with what I'd thought."

"Trevor, please."

She crossed to him and placed her hand on his arm. The tears continued to fall. She was beautiful. How was he supposed to resist her?

"Forgive me."

"I can forgive, but I can't trust you. You still don't see me as a person, and until you do, there's just no point." He pulled free of her touch. "The hell of it is I thought you were the one. Like an idiot, I went ahead and fell in love with you. I'd even planned on asking you to marry me. But you've shown me the error of my ways. This wasn't a give-and-take relationship. You weren't interested in anything but using me up and moving on. All this time, I've been in love alone. I guess I should have seen that. Sorry to make this awkward. Don't worry. I won't bother you again."

Dana stared at him. His features blurred. She knew it was from the tears, but a part of her believed it was because he was already fading from her life. He'd loved her? He'd wanted to marry her? This couldn't be happening. It wasn't possible. She'd lost him and she hadn't even known she'd had him.

She wanted to beg him to reconsider. To give her another chance. Yet she'd done nothing to deserve him the first time, so how could she expect him to ever trust her again? She was all he'd said she was. "I didn't mean…"

Her voice trailed off. There was nothing left to say.

She crossed to her town house and let herself inside. Although the sun had long since set, she didn't bother with the lights. Instead, she walked to the common wall at the back of her living room and placed her hand flat against the cool plaster.

"Oh, T-Trevor," she murmured as a sob caught in her throat.

She'd been such an incredible fool. She'd never bothered to look past her stupid misconceptions and her pride. She'd assumed the worst about him and had acted accordingly. Everything Trevor said was true. She was spiteful and shallow, and she
had
treated him with exactly the same disdain she'd assumed he used in his personal life. How many times had she told herself and her friends that this wasn't serious? That she was just practicing for a "real" relationship? How many times had she deliberately held back her feelings so that she wouldn't get too involved?