PRINCE CHARMING M.D. (8 page)

"I know. I'm sorry. That was really difficult for you."

They walked into the hospital. Dana paused by the reception desk. "Trevor and I have talked about the past," she
said,
her voice low so that they wouldn't be overheard. "He brought it up when he first came here."

Lee raised her eyebrows. "I'm surprised. Did he apologize?"

"Not exactly. He said he wanted to explain. He swore he wasn't the one to spread the rumors about him and me. He said the only person he told was Joel Haddock."

"Who?"

"You know, the dark-haired skinny guy I was friends with that summer. He'd been close to Trevor. Trevor claims Joel wanted to go out with me himself, and that when he found out about Trevor and me, he spread the story to break us up."

"Do you believe him?" Lee asked.

"I don't know. Trevor has a lot of flaws, but he's always been honest. He has no reason to lie this many years after the fact."

"Does the past still matter?"

Dana shook her head. "There's a hard question. I guess it shouldn't, right?"

"Only you can answer that. Trevor was important to you once. You were hurt badly by what you thought were his actions. Would knowing none of it was his fault change anything?"

Dana wanted to say that it wouldn't. She wasn't that fifteen-year-old girl anymore. Trevor was no longer the center of her world. She'd grown up and moved on. Yet, in ways she couldn't explain, it did matter.

"I'm confused," she admitted.

"It's a start," Lee said, and glanced at her watch. "I'm really sorry, but I'm running late. I have to get to the clinic."

Dana gave her a quick hug. "No problem. Thanks for listening. I'll talk to you soon."

Lee waved,
then
headed down the hallway. Dana walked to the elevators and pressed the button for the third floor. When the doors opened, she stepped inside. Two young nurses were talking. She glanced at them and wondered if they'd set their sights on Trevor yet. If not, it was just a matter of time. In the slang of the day, Trevor was a chick magnet. He'd already dated Angie and Sally. Who else had fallen victim to his considerable charms?

At least she was safe. She'd received her inoculation back in high school and that kind of immunization lasted for life.

"So much for being immunized," Dana muttered two days later as she walked past the television. The sound was down and she didn't even glance at the show on the set. "This is disgusting. I'm completely humiliated for myself. If anyone had a clue." She sighed.

The good news was no one had a clue. The bad news was she was worse than pathetic. This was just like driving by a boy's house back in high school, only worse, because now she was a grown-up and she knew better. Instead of cruising in a car, she was pacing in her living room, hovering by the common wall, trying to pretend to herself that she wasn't actually listening to see if Trevor was home. The only thing more humiliating would be holding a glass to the wall and listening.

She heard a faint sound and froze. It came again. The unmistakable rumble of a laugh track on a TV sitcom. He was home. Granted it was a Wednesday night and many people didn't go out during the week. But he wasn't just anyone, and hospital scuttlebutt had it that he'd been out continually since his return. But if the sound coming from his town house really was his television, as she thought, she would swear he'd been home the previous two nights … not that she'd actually eavesdropped at the wall.

She flopped onto her sofa and told herself she should be ashamed. She was acting like a kid with a crush on a rock star. Worse, she was lying to herself about it.

"I need a hobby," she said aloud. "Something to occupy my free time."

She glanced at the book she'd been reading, but for once her favorite mystery author couldn't hold her attention. Too many thoughts raced around in her head. The OR had scheduling problems and she needed to sort them out. She was on three different committees and they all required reports she hadn't started. Her sock drawer was in pretty bad shape…

The laugh track sounded again. Dana stared at the wall. What was going on? Was he really home, or did he leave the TV on when he went out? Something didn't add up. Angie and Sally seemed to be his two favorites, but a couple of other women claimed to have been out with him. When did he find the time? And why wasn't he more exhausted during the day?

Don't think about this, she told herself. She needed a distraction.

As if in answer to her prayers, a knock sounded on the front door. She bounded off the sofa and walked to the foyer. "Who is it?" she called, even as she started to unlock the dead bolt.

"Trevor."

She froze in the act of releasing the lock. A tremor rippled through her. She glanced down at her faded sweatshirt and much-washed jeans. It was nearly seven in the evening, so she doubted a scrap of makeup remained on her face. She gave herself a mental shake. It was just Trevor. Her appearance was unimportant.

"Hi," she said as she pulled the door open. Her smile was polite, although it was tough to keep it in place, what with her jaw wanting to drop.

He wore the masculine version of her outfit. A dark-blue sweatshirt over faded jeans. The difference was
,
she looked relaxed and slightly scruffy. He looked like a highly paid model on his way to a photo shoot. Stubble darkened his cheeks. Weariness shadowed his eyes, until the green faded completely.

"I'm having a crisis," he said, and held out a wad of paper.

Dana took it from him and realized it was sticky. "What is this?"

"Contact paper. I'm trying to line my shelves. Obviously I'm doing something wrong. Is this a female thing, like knowing what colors go together? Am I missing the shelf-papering gene?"

She thrust the ball of sticky paper back at him. "I suspect what you're missing is the will to line your own cupboards. You're just looking for free labor."

"Ouch," he said, and pressed a hand to his stomach. "That's a low blow." A slow smile turned up the corners of his mouth and made her toes curl. "If I offer you beer and pizza, the labor wouldn't be free."

She told herself to say no. He was dating. Let Angie or Sally or whoever trot on over and line his shelves. They would be thrilled to spend the time with him. Of course, then she would be forced to listen to their voices and the sound of laughter drifting through the common wall.

"Please," he said. "I'll change the oil in your car."

"I just had it done." She told herself she was being neighborly, nothing more. "Okay, I'll help. But I want mushrooms on the pizza, and a deep-dish crust."

"Deal."

Telling
herself
she would probably regret this, Dana grabbed her key and stepped outside. After locking her door, she followed him to his place.

She hesitated before stepping inside. What would she find? A typical bachelor pad? She wasn't sure she wanted proof of his wild social life. The stories were already more than she could handle. Then she reminded herself that the furniture she'd already seen had been completely normal. No reason to think that he would have strange pieces of art or pictures. She walked into the foyer.

The town house was much as she remembered, with oversized but conservative furniture. The prints and photographs had been hung on the walls. Mostly outdoor scenes and seascapes. Nothing provocative. She could see into the living room. Magazines lay scattered on the coffee table. Most of them looked like medical journals. A spy-thriller bestseller sat open on the floor next to the couch. No signs of any female presence here. Come to think of it, none of the nurses had mentioned being at his place. That was a relief. She hoped he kept that policy intact.

"I think I'm doing something wrong," Trevor said, leading the way into the kitchen. "Maybe because I don't understand the purpose of shelf paper. I had a cleaning service come in and scrub all the cupboards. Why do I have to line them, too?" He pointed to a half-dozen rolls of contact paper. "I wouldn't bother, except my mom sent it over and I know she's going to check when she comes to visit me."

"Will she yell at you if you don't use it?"

"No." He shifted uncomfortably, looking more like a little boy than a successful doctor. "But, you know. It's my mom."

It was nice some woman had power over him. She bit back a smile and moved to stand in front of the pantry. Boxes of food sat on the floor, but nothing in the cupboard. The top shelf had been lined already. Sort of. The paper was certainly attached, but it was crooked, with several large bubbles in the center. The edges were jagged.

Dana grabbed a loose corner and pulled the paper free. "Somehow I don't want to know how you put this in. Didn't you measure first?"

He raised dark eyebrows. "Of course I measured first. What do you think? That I'm a complete idiot?"

His outrage was so realistic she knew he was bluffing. She wadded up the used paper and tossed it at him. "You didn't, did you?"

He tossed both sticky balls into a trash bag sitting in the corner. "No. I guessed how big the shelf was."

"And you were wrong."

"'Wrong' is a strong term."

"But accurate," she teased. "Hand me the tape measure."

She showed him how to measure the shelves and, if they were all the same size, to cut one piece, then use it as a template. Trevor was a born cutter, but he was lousy at anchoring the paper by one side, getting it straight, then gently peeling off the back so that the sheet
laid
down perfectly.

"Just leave it," Dana said when he'd twisted his third attempt. "We don't have enough paper for this. You measure the other cupboards and cut the right sizes. I'll come behind you and do the peel-and-stick part."

They worked well together, Dana thought as they moved around in the kitchen. The relatively close confines required occasional contact but she tried to ignore her body's reaction every time he was near. Hormones were powerful things, she told herself as her heart rate increased in direct proportion to his closeness. If only… She smiled to herself. Yeah, right. If only Trevor were for real. All the things he already was—funny, smart, gifted and, okay, good-looking—plus a few others, like faithful and loving. Then he would be a completely irresistible package. As it was now, he was very nice to look at, but she knew better than to touch.

He stopped work long enough to order the pizza and grab them a couple of beers from the fridge. "So you're staying in for the evening," she said. "That must be a nice change of pace."

He handed her one of the open bottles and frowned. "You made a similar comment the last time we spoke at the hospital. You know, when you lectured me on the pitfalls of dating among the ranks. Has it ever occurred to you that I might
not
be seeing anyone right now?"

"That's not what I hear."

"I see." He took a swallow of beer. "I don't suppose there's a chance the rumors might be just that—rumors?"

Oddly enough, she wanted them to be untrue, although she didn't dare analyze the reason why. Too much risk in that one. "Are they?" she asked.

Instead of coming back with a quick, humorous response, he held her gaze. "Would you believe me if I said yes?"

He was asking more than a simple question. A shiver rippled through her. Not one of desire … not this time. It was something more dangerous. A wanting she couldn't define. Trevor had once been the brightest star in her universe. When that star had gone out, it had taken her a long time to make her own light. She didn't want to have to go through that again. Oh, but she was woman enough to admit he tempted her.

Someone knocked on the door. "That must be the pizza," she said, grateful for the interruption.

Trevor paid the delivery guy and returned to the kitchen. Dana had found both the place mats he owned and set the table. The overhead light fixture made her gold blond hair shine. Her face was scrubbed clean of makeup, her clothes casual. She looked the way he remembered her from back in high school. If only life could be that simple again.

He wanted to pursue their previous conversation. He, too, had heard the rumors that he was dating several nurses at the hospital. The truth was
,
he hadn't been out with anyone in nearly two years. Not since he'd walked out on his ex-wife after finding her in bed with another man for the second time. It didn't matter that he kept telling himself he had to get on with his life. His plans for having a loving family that included a wife and children would have a much better chance of coming true if he started going out. But he couldn't face the process. There were too many explanations. Too many women unwilling to believe.