PRINCE CHARMING M.D. (6 page)

Which didn't mean he wouldn't kiss her.
If she cooperated.

She was staring at the algebra book on her lap. Her left index finger traced the edge of the spine up and down. He could feel her nervousness, her uncertainty, and he guessed she'd never been out with a boy before.
Which probably meant she hadn't been kissed.
The thought of being her first pleased him.

He leaned forward slightly and rested his right hand on her shoulder. "I had a good time."

She looked
up,
eyes wide like a cornered animal. She nodded. "Me, too."

"You're pretty smart."

Dismay filled her face. "Oh. Sorry."

"No. Don't apologize. I like smart girls. I can talk to them. They say stuff back." He grinned now, remembering their heated discussion about the right way to solve a word problem. "You're not afraid to tell me what you think."

"My mom says I'm too outspoken."

She was warm and the peach sweater was as soft as it looked. He moved his hand closer to her neck,
then
stroked the delicate skin under her ear. Her breath caught and he felt a shiver race through her.

"Outspoken is good," he said lightly, relieved it was dark in the car. She wouldn't be able to see his predictable reaction to her nearness. It was embarrassing. He'd gotten hard the second he'd seen her and things hadn't changed in the past two hours.

"You think so? I'm not sure. My mom says—"

He leaned over the console between them and angled his head. She stopped talking and froze in place, her mouth slightly parted,
her
eyes still wide. His lips touched hers.

Lightning ripped through him. Heat and need and feelings he'd never experienced before. He was trembling and felt as if he were about to explode. Fighting the desire to haul her hard against him, he kept the kiss light and still, trying to give her time to get used to what they were doing. After about a minute, he drew back somewhat.

Her eyes were closed, her mouth still parted. She smiled and touched a hand to her lips. "Wow." Her eyes opened and she covered her face with her hands. "Oh, no. I didn't really say that, did I?"

He chuckled. "Yeah, you did, and I'm glad. I thought it was a 'wow,' too."

She peeked at him between her fingers. "You did?"

"Promise."

He cupped the back of her neck and drew her closer. This time she melted against him. Her slender arms settled around his neck and he felt the tentative touch of her fingers in his hair. Her mouth yielded to his. He thought about deepening the kiss, but he was conscious of the time and of not wanting to go too far, too fast. She was special and he wanted to enjoy every moment they had.

"Dana, I have to take you in," he murmured against her mouth.

"Oh." She nodded. "I guess you're right."

"Can I see you tomorrow?"

"Yes!" she said eagerly. "Of course. I'd like that."

He loved that she wasn't grown up enough to be sophisticated. In time she would learn to pretend a lack of interest, to be coy and hold back. But her enthusiasm only made him like her more.

"Tomorrow is Friday. How about getting something to eat,
then
going to a movie. What's your curfew?"

She chewed her bottom lip. "I don't know. I've never been—" Even in the shadowed light of the Mustang's front seat he saw her blush. "That is, you're sort of my first, well … date." The last word came out as a whisper.

"I'm glad." He climbed out of the car and walked around to her door, then escorted her to her small apartment. "You can let me know tomorrow at school. I'll talk to you at lunch."

"Okay."

When he took her hand, she stared at him in wonder,
then
smiled. His chest tightened with pleasure. She was very special, he told himself as he waited while she unlocked the door and stepped inside. He'd finally found a girl he could really like and he promised himself he would do everything in his power to make this work.

"Trevor," she
breathed,
her voice thick with passion. "I think I like this."

He'd fallen for her, he thought with wonder. It had only been a few weeks and already he didn't know how he'd managed to survive without her. Around Dana, he felt able to take on the world. The rumors about his playing around didn't matter. He was hers and she knew that. She believed in him. He hadn't realized how much he'd needed that belief, until she'd given it so completely. Her honesty, her intelligence, her humor, her adoration, all conspired to make him love her. Which he could handle. It was their sensual playfulness that was getting him into trouble. Her shirt had long since been discarded and he was fighting the temptation to remove her bra.

"This
is
a mistake," he muttered, searching for control. He could hear his hormones laughing at his feeble attempts.

"I'm glad your parents are away for the weekend," Dana said, and dropped a kiss on his mouth. "This is fun."

She rubbed against him again and he groaned. "You can't keep doing that. Dana, I'm serious. You can feel what's happening to me. It means I want you. I know you like the kissing and touching, but you're not ready for anything else."

He placed his hands on her waist and lifted her off him, then rolled into a sitting position and tried to think pure thoughts.

Dana came up behind him and wrapped her arms around him. "I'm sorry. I don't mean to tease you. I like what we do together. But you're right. We should stop."

The lamp on the nightstand provided the only illumination in his room. He stared at the bookshelves in front of him, at the familiar trophies for football and track, at a few car models and some books. But he didn't see any of them.

He turned and cupped her face. "Dana, I wish…"

She smiled. "I know. I love you, Trevor."

His breath caught in his throat. Had she really said those magic words? He'd never been happier in his life. "I love you, too. I love you so much I—"

She kissed him, cutting off his words. He pulled her close and they tumbled back onto the bed. They were kissing and touching, and suddenly they were both naked and he was stroking her belly, moving closer to that place he'd never been before.

He nuzzled her breasts, tasting them, tasting
her,
hoping she didn't notice how much he was shaking. He'd experimented with girls before, but he'd never made love.

As he prepared to enter her, he asked, "Should I stop?"

She shook her head. "I love you."

He drew in a shuddering breath and slowly entered her. The pressure was unbearable, as was the pleasure. He tried to hold back, to think of something else, but it was like trying to control the tide. One more thrust of his hips and he lost it.

When the spasms had faded, he looked at her. Dana touched his face. "I thought it would take longer."

Typical Dana, who didn't know enough to pretend to salvage his male ego. He kissed her fiercely. "Don't ever change," he told her. "I love you exactly as you are."

She wrinkled her nose. "What does that have to do with anything?" She shifted against him.

Amazingly enough, he felt himself become aroused again. He started to move. "Let's try that once more," he said. "This time it will be longer."

She pulled him close and kissed him. "I think I'd like that," she murmured against his mouth.

On Monday Trevor got to school late. He'd had a dentist appointment and for once he hadn't minded having his teeth cleaned. In fact, he figured he could have flown to school instead of driven. He'd never been so happy in his life.

Friday night had been magical. His only regret was that Dana had spent the rest of the weekend with her mother—some family obligation she hadn't been able to get out of. But he would see her tonight.

He walked into school just in time for fourth period. He slid into his seat next to his best friend, Joel, who gave him a knowing wink. The two boys had hung out the previous afternoon and Trevor had confessed what had happened with Dana.

As his history teacher lectured on the precursors to
Pearl Harbor
, Trevor noticed he was getting more attention than usual.

Karl, a fellow football player and full-time jerk, leaned over and whispered, "I heard about you and Dana. Way to go."

Trevor frowned. The comments continued when he left class. By lunch he realized the entire school knew. He was furious for both Dana and himself and concerned for her. While making love was seen as a rite of passage for males, females could easily be labeled sluts. He didn't want anyone saying anything bad to Dana.

He searched for her through lunch, but never saw her or her friends. Finally, he cut his last class and drove to her apartment.

She was
pale,
her cheeks tearstained, her shoulders slumped as she answered the door. Her pain was so tangible he felt it cutting through him, too.

"Dana, what—"

She held up her hand to stop him from talking. "Don't," she said harshly, her voice cracking with sobs. "Just don't. You got what you wanted. I almost understand that. What I don't understand is how you could have told everyone." Fresh tears filled her eyes and trickled down her cheeks.

"I didn't," he said. "I swear." He didn't tell anyone. Except Joel. Joel, who had always watched Dana, had always made cracks about her. Trevor hadn't thought about it one way or the other until that moment. Had his friend wanted Dana for himself?

"Do you know what they're saying about me?" she asked. "Do you know what they called me today?"

He was bleeding to death. He could feel the gaping hole in his chest. "Dana, listen to me. I love you. I would never do anything to hurt you."

"Liar."

She said the single word with a finality that told him she'd already made up her mind.

"I never want to see you again," she continued. "Don't come over here or talk to me. Don't even look at me. I'll hate you forever. I swear I will."

He'd tried everything. He'd written notes, spoken with her friends, called her daily. But he had nothing he could offer her as proof. Joel had denied everything,
then
taken Dana's side, as if he, too, believed Trevor had been the one to spread the rumors. Trevor's only relief had come the following fall, when he'd finally left for college.

Trevor reached for the beer on the table at his side and gave his head a quick shake, hoping to dislodge the memories. He knew better than to spend much time in the past. It had a way of grabbing on to him and never letting go. Dana had thought their brief relationship meant nothing to him, yet she was the reason he'd completed his undergraduate degree in three years instead of four. At first he'd
buried himself in his studies to forget. Eventually he got caught up in the process, until the work consumed him and became its own reward. And now she was back in his life.

He knew he hadn't returned to Honeygrove because of her, yet he couldn't be sorry she was around. He didn't expect to pick things up where they'd left off, but he would like a chance to make things right. For reasons he didn't want to explore, he would prefer that Dana not think of him as the bad guy. When that was resolved, he would make some effort in his personal life. It was time to find someone and settle down. He wanted a loving relationship and a couple of kids. Goals most men found easy to accomplish, although he'd had a hell of a time making that happen.

All he wanted was someone to see him for who and what he was on the inside. Someone to care about him, to believe in him and the truth instead of the rumors.

He finished the beer and stood. If that didn't happen, there was always work. He could bury himself in it just as he'd buried himself in his studies. It was one lesson he'd learned very well.

"We went dancing," Sally said. "You
know,
that new club downtown? The one with the really cute D.J.?" She sighed rapturously and wrapped her arms around herself. "He held me close and I thought I was going to die."

"You're going to wish you had if you let yourself fall for him," Melba intoned ominously. "I'm telling
you,
don't go getting serious about Trevor MacAllister."

Angie, a blond nurse pretty enough to make other women dislike her on sight, came up and joined the conversation. "Listen to Melba," she said, and gave a slow, self-satisfied smile. "You might have had him Saturday night, Sally, but I had him all Sunday night, and I do mean all." She gave a little wink, then walked over to the elevator and pushed the Down button.