The Doctor's Runaway Fiancée (16 page)

“If we'd been on the dance floor, I couldn't have done this.” He tipped her face up to his, then lowered his mouth over hers.

She tasted like wine and cake, an erotic combination that fueled the fire coursing through his veins. He wanted this woman. He loved this woman. And he would find a way that she would be his.

Not just for tonight, but forever.

Chapter Eighteen

A
ndrew rolled out of bed the next morning at nine o'clock. He decided he'd never again take for granted sleeping past 3:00 a.m. It had been nearly that time when he and Sylvie finally fell into an exhausted slumber.

Instead of heading straight for the shower, he glanced down at the bed. Sylvie lay sprawled on her back, one arm crooked over her eyes as if shielding them from light. The pretty curls disheveled from last night's lovemaking only made her more beautiful.

He wanted to wake her, to make love to her again and feel that connection, the bond they'd forged. Andrew knew the difference between making love and having sex. Last night had been all about love.

He'd come here to get her out of his heart. Instead his love for her had only grown deeper. He knew she loved Jackson Hole, but if she gave Boston a chance he knew she could love it there, too.

She could start a bakery there. His family had connections, lots of them, and could steer business her way until she got a good foothold. He understood her passion for creating now and would encourage those efforts.

If she liked his condo, they could live there. If it didn't suit her, they would shop around until she found a place that felt like home to her.

Andrew thought of his conversation with Gabe and Joel about building a home in Spring Gulch. That had just been a pipe dream. His life was in Boston. His future was with O'Shea Sports.

It wasn't the life he'd have chosen, but running the company would be his tribute to Thomas.

Sylvie stirred and for a second he thought she was waking up, but she merely rolled over and snuggled into the pillow. Giving up medicine would be difficult, but at least he would have Sylvie to ease the transition.

They would have a good life. He tried to imagine her back in Boston, but the image remained fuzzy.

After his shower, he dressed, then made coffee. He'd wait to make breakfast until Sylvie was awake. He was scrolling through his email when his phone rang. His father's picture flashed on the screen.

“Dad. How are you?”

“Very good.” Despite the almost twenty-five hundred miles that separated them, the excitement in his father's voice came through loud and clear. “Excellent, in fact.”

Andrew found himself smiling into the phone. “What's going on? Did that new technology the engineers were working on pan out?”

It was an educated guess. Though his dad loved his family, nothing got him more revved up than business successes. And Andrew was aware that the R & D department had been working on several ways to refine the engineering and performance of their bestselling running shoe.

“That project is coming along nicely,” his father said, almost as if they were talking about a minor change of little consequence. “This is bigger. That's why I need you back. I've sent the Gulfstream.”

Andrew took a drink of the Ethiopian blend he'd just brewed. Obviously his brain wasn't yet firing on all circuits. “You sent the Gulfstream where?”

His dad was very particular about the use of the corporate jet. If he'd sent it out, the news had to be big.

“To Jackson Hole. Weren't you listening to me?” His father's voice lashed like a whip.

Andrew resisted the urge to chuckle. His father must be revved up to use what Corinne called his “head honcho” tone with a family member.

“I heard you say something big is happening.”

“Not big—huge.” The excited tremor returned to his father's voice. “We're about to finalize the acquisition of a European mobile fitness start-up.”

“Wasn't that the deal Corinne had been working on?” Andrew vaguely recalled his sister mentioning something about a company with a GPS fitness tracking app. If it was that particular deal, it was worth about two hundred and forty million dollars.

“Your sister made the initial contacts, was involved in the preliminary negotiations, but I want you here to close the deal.”

Andrew wondered what his sister thought about being tossed out during the sprint to the finish, but he shoved the thought aside. He'd attempted to advocate on Corinne's behalf, but his father could not be swayed. O'Shea men had run the company for the hundred years since it was founded, and that was the way it would continue.

If only he hadn't hounded Thomas into coming to that game with him, it would be his brother closing the deal. Thomas would have been as excited as his father and Corinne over all the possibilities. Andrew would have to dig deep to find even a modicum of enthusiasm for the project.

After confirming he would indeed fly back to Boston that afternoon, Andrew clicked off and laid the phone on the table.

He hoped Sylvie would be able to make the trip with him today, but he would understand if she had to stay behind for a few days to close up her business here.

“You're leaving?”

Sylvie stood in the doorway, wearing nothing but the white shirt he'd had on last night. It hung halfway to her bare thighs. Her expression gave nothing away.

“My dad called.” He gestured to the coffeemaker, gripped with a sudden feeling of unease. “I made a pot. Ethiopian blend. Your favorite.”

Without even sparing the countertop where the coffeepot rested a single glance, she crossed the room, stopping a couple of feet from him. “What did your father want?”

“He wants me to come home.” Andrew might have been speaking with a statue. She didn't even blink.

“I thought you had until October 1 to give him your decision.”

He frowned, puzzled. “What decision?”

“About whether you'd be returning to Boston or not.”

“My returning to Boston has never been in question.”

She flinched as if she'd been slapped. “I see.”

“What do you see?” The question spurted out with more edge than he'd intended.

“I see,” she said slowly and deliberately, “that you came back here to get me out of your system. You've accomplished your mission. Now you're leaving.”

The light that had shone so brightly in her eyes last night had vanished.

“You don't understand.” He stepped forward, grasped her hands. Relief surged when she didn't pull away. “I want you to come with me.”

The flicker in her eyes was all the encouragement Andrew needed. The words tumbled out. “If you don't like my condo in the Millennium Towers, we can do some house-hunting while we're there. You can even scout locations for your bakery. It will be good, Sylvie. You and I can build a life together there.”

She tugged her hands free, took a step back. “I have a life here, in Jackson Hole.”

His heart plummeted, but somehow, when he spoke his voice was calm. “Of course you do. And we can come back every winter and see your friends. They can come and see us in Boston as often as you want.”

“You're planning on working for your father.”

“I won't be working for him in the traditional sense of the word.” His tone had stiffened, despite his best efforts to control it. “He'll be the CEO of O'Shea Sports. I'll be COO. We'll each have duties and responsibilities.”

“You'll be working all the time.”

Though Andrew wanted to reassure her, he wouldn't lie. “Initially, possibly.”

“Probably,” he qualified at her probing look. “But once I get up to speed, it won't be as much.”

“Will you be able to practice medicine?”

“No.” He'd done his best not to think of what he'd be giving up, and he found himself resenting her for bringing it up. “There won't be time.”

Sadness swept across her face. “There won't be time for me, either.”

“It'll be hectic at first, but—”

She raised a hand. “The position will consume your life, like it does for your father, like it did for your brother.”

The mention of Thomas had him going cold. “What are you saying, Sylvie? Spit it out.”

“I'm not going with you.”

“You can come later. I realize you have obligations here. I was hoping you could fly back with me today, but I understand—”

“No.” She met his gaze. “I'm not going back to Boston with you, Andrew. I can't watch you lose yourself, give up your passion for medicine as a way of atoning for your brother's death.”

He'd stepped forward but stopped a foot from her. She might look small and vulnerable in his shirt, but her eyes, as well as her tongue, were razor sharp.

“I care about you too much.” She closed her eyes, and for the first time, he noticed the tears shimmering on the edges of her lashes.

“If you cared about me, you'd come with me.” It was as close to begging as he'd ever come with anyone. “Please, Sylvie, come with me. Make a life with me in Boston.”

“You giving up your dream for someone else's would only tear us apart.”

“You're still running scared, aren't you?” His humorless laugh sounded harsh even to his own ears. “You can't, you won't, make a commitment because you're scared it won't work.”

“That's not it,” she protested. “It's—”

“You're a coward.”

Her spine stiffened even as her eyes turned dark as midnight. “You won't stand up to your father. You won't make him understand how important medicine is to you. You won't fight for your sister when you know it's the right thing to do. Who's the coward, Andrew?”

“You think you know me so well. You think you know what I want?” He ground out the words. “You don't know anything.”

Without another word, he brushed past her and headed down the hall. Pulling his suitcase from the closet, he dumped the contents from the drawers into it and snapped it shut.

“What are you doing?”

It was a silly question.

“I have a plane to catch. I'll have someone come in and clean up the house, so don't worry about it.”

“Andrew.”

The soft sound of his name on her lips had him turning, had hope rising inside him.

“Don't go.”

The hope deflated like an untied balloon. “I have obligations.”

She gave a brisk nod.

“There's a birthday present for you in the extra bedroom.” He caught the scent of French perfume when he strode past her.

Riding on temper, he didn't slow his pace until he was behind the wheel of the car. As he pulled out of the driveway, it struck him that this time he was the one leaving, not her.

* * *

The rest of the day, the day they were supposed to spend together, Sylvie held out hope that Andrew would come back. She kept busy cleaning the house but resisted the impulse to pack up her things until the light in the sky dissolved into darkness.

She packed her belongings and was already in Ethel and ready to pull out of the driveway when she remembered Andrew's parting words. He'd left a present for her in the extra bedroom, the one they'd kept closed off.

For a second, Sylvie thought about leaving the gift behind, but that was only angry thinking. Reluctantly she went back inside the house that held so many good memories.

The present was large and covered in brown paper. She looked at it for a long moment, then carefully unwrapped it.

The painting of the fox, the one standing on the boulder looking over his shoulder, stared back at her.

Aren't you coming after me?

Sylvie closed her eyes. Her heart swelled, pressing against her lungs, causing her breath to come short and shallow. Tears filled her eyes until the image of the red fox blurred.

Aren't you coming after me?

It was the same way Andrew had looked at her, with such hope and longing. The way he'd looked at her before those soft gray eyes had turned to steel.

“No,” she whispered, though there was no one in the house to hear. “I won't. I can't come with you.”

As the trickle of tears became a stream, Sylvie cried for what could have been and what now would never be.

Chapter Nineteen

S
ylvie had offered to take Lexi out to lunch on Monday as a thank-you for filling in for her on Saturday night. Though she didn't know the woman well, Lexi had a busy family life and it couldn't have been much fun for her getting up in the middle of the night to bake.

As she wasn't feeling particularly sociable, Sylvie found herself hoping that Lexi would be too busy to meet. Instead she had enthusiastically agreed. They'd set a time and place. Noon at Perfect Pizza.

Sylvie arrived a few minutes early and found Lexi already waiting. The woman was pretty with dark hair cut in a stylish bob. Her wrap pencil skirt in gray and a thin black sweater made Sylvie feel underdressed in her blue cardi and printed skirt.

It had been hard to care about her appearance the past couple of days. It had been hard to care about anything at all.

“Sylvie.” Lexi's voice rang with welcome. “I'm so glad you suggested we meet for lunch. I've been wanting to get better acquainted.”

When Lexi took her hands and pulled her close for a brief hug, Sylvie had to blink back unexpected tears.

“I owe you so much for helping me out Saturday night.” Sylvie returned the hug. “It would have been so hard to get up that day. I don't think any of my customers would have gotten my best work.”

“Are you ready to order?” the person behind the wooden counter asked, putting an end to the conversation.

They decided to split a small pizza with ham and pineapple with cream cheese and were given two large amber-colored plastic glasses for iced tea.

The fact that this was the same type of pizza she and Andrew had shared brought a heaviness to her chest. It took all the strength Sylvie had to fill her glass and grab some silverware from the beverage station.

She followed Lexi to the window, slid into the booth made out of knotty pine opposite her luncheon companion and forced what she hoped was a cheery smile.

The last thing Sylvie wanted to do was talk about herself, so she kept the conversation focused on Lexi. She learned that, like Poppy, Lexi was a social worker.

“After our last baby was born, I decided to be a stay-at-home mom and do some catering every now and then.”

“Do you miss the social work?”

“Sometimes, but not enough to try to make it gel with the crazy schedules of my husband and kids.” Lexi took a sip of iced tea and her gaze grew thoughtful. “In a relationship, there has to be compromise.”

“You also have to be true to who you are.”

If Lexi was startled by the vehemence in Sylvie's tone, it didn't show. “Absolutely. We all have to decide how much we're willing to compromise, how far we can go and still be true to ourselves. I faced that when Nick and I first met.”

Sylvie knew Lexi's husband was a popular family-law attorney in Jackson Hole. That was about all she knew. She gave Lexi an encouraging smile.

“I met Nick when he was injured in a skiing accident. He'd lost his memory.”

“Are you kidding?”

Lexi smiled and lifted her fingers in some sort of scouting salute. “Bizarre, but true.”

“He didn't know who he was? Not at all?”

“Not for quite a while.”

Sylvie pushed her plate aside and leaned forward, resting her elbows on the table, glad she'd decided on this lunch. There was nothing like a case of amnesia to take your mind off your own troubles. “What happened?”

“I helped get him settled while we searched for his identity. In the process, we fell in love and began to plan a life together.”

“That's very romantic.”

“When his memory began to return, we discovered that he lived in Dallas, that he and his father had a law practice there.”

“He gave it up to stay here with you.” Sylvie sighed. It was the kind of happy ending she wished she and Andrew had been able to achieve.

“It wasn't that simple.” Lexi's eyes grew distant with the memory. “It was a large, thriving law practice and his father depended on Nick. He asked me to move there with him.”

“You said no.”

“Initially,” Lexi admitted. “My life was here, my job, my friends. I had a daughter. Addie was seven at the time. I couldn't just uproot her.”

“What happened?”

“We compromised. We would spend part of the year in Texas and part of the year here. It couldn't be fifty-fifty because of Addie's schooling.” Lexi stared at the last piece of pizza and picked it up. “Oh, what the heck?”

“That couldn't have been easy.”

Lexi paused, the pizza near her lips. “Few things in life seldom are. It was a difficult couple of years, but Nick and I were together and that was the important thing, to Addie and to me. During the following years, his father added several more attorneys to the practice. This allowed Nick to spend more time building his practice in Jackson Hole. Now he only consults with his father on special cases.”

Sylvie thought of Andrew. Thought about compromise. Thought about how far she was willing to go.

For the first time in forty-eight hours, the tightness in her chest eased. She met the other woman's gaze. “Lexi, I need your help.”

* * *

If Sylvie could have left that day for Boston, she'd have done it. But she had clients and obligations and Lexi couldn't fill in for her until after the first.

She purchased a plane ticket with the last of her savings and hoped that Andrew would welcome her. She loved him, and between them, surely they could find a way to compromise.

The painting of the fox hung in her small living quarters. Each time she looked at it, she assured the fox that, yes, she was going after Andrew.

There was a chill in the air the morning of her birthday. She baked for her clients and went about making her deliveries. Other than Josie, who was still on her honeymoon, no one else knew that today was her birthday. Sylvie didn't mention it.

If she did, they might want her to go out and celebrate. She had to pack and get her sleep. Tomorrow she had an early flight to catch.

Her phone rang just as she was finishing up the last of her deliveries. “This is Sylvie.”

“Hey, Sylvie, Keenan McGregor. I need a favor.”

Sylvie tried to keep the surprise from her voice. “Sure. Anything.”

“Great.”

Was that relief she heard?

“Mitzi is convinced she lost her earring when we stopped over to your house.”

For a second Sylvie was confused. As far as she could recall, Mitzi had never stopped into the Mad Batter. Then she realized he was speaking of the house in Spring Gulch, down the street from his. The one where she'd lived with Andrew.

“I cleaned the house before I closed it up,” Sylvie told him. “I didn't find any earring. Are you sure she didn't lose it somewhere else?”

“She's certain she was wearing it there. Would you mind stopping over there this afternoon and checking inside?”

“I locked the door and left the key inside.”

“There's a keypad on the garage door. Surely you remember the code?”

“Yes, but I—”

“It would mean a lot to me, uh, to us, if you'd look.”

Sylvie wasn't quite sure how she felt about going back inside. There were so many memories, including the argument with Andrew. She'd done everything she could to stay positive this week, but going back inside could derail her optimistic mood. Still, Keenan and Mitzi had been kind to her.

“What does it look like?”

For a moment there was only silence. “What does what look like?”

“The earring Mitzi lost.”

“Uh, like an earring.”

Men, she thought with an exasperated smile. “I mean, is it a hoop or a stud or—”

“Silver hoop,” he said quickly. “With some scrollwork on the hoop.”

“I would have thought I'd have seen it...”

“But you will go over and check.”

“I will.” She paused. “Can you meet me there? We can both look.”

She thought she heard him mutter something about three being a crowd but knew she must have misheard.

“I'm tied up at the airport. Just call me if you find it.”

“Okay.” Then, because he sounded so stressed, she added, “I'll head over there right now.”

When they ended the conversation, she stared at the phone in her hand for a long moment. Likely it would be a wasted trip, but it would pass the time.

And she would be helping a friend. Wasn't that what life was all about in Jackson Hole?

* * *

Sylvie drew the van to a stop in front of the house. The lights were on inside, and a car she didn't recognize sat in the driveway. Whoever was inside wasn't trying to be sneaky, which ruled out a burglar. That left only two possibilities.

Andrew's friend had returned to Jackson Hole. Or he was letting another friend use the home.

If Keenan hadn't sounded so desperate, Sylvie wouldn't have gotten out of her van. But she'd promised. Perhaps whoever was living in the home now had found the earring. Not likely, but possible.

She glanced down at her jeans and sweater, wishing she'd dressed up a bit more. But it was too late now. She'd driven all the way out here and she was going to see it through.

When no one came to the door after she knocked, Sylvie rang the bell. The music playing inside abruptly stopped and she heard someone moving inside.

Straightening her shoulders, she pasted a smile on her face.

The smile froze when Andrew opened the door.

Maybe she was hallucinating. Maybe it wasn't him standing there in gray pants and a white shirt rolled up to the elbows. Maybe it wasn't him staring at her with solemn gray eyes.

“Hello, Sylvie.” He stepped back, pushing the door farther open. “Won't you come in?”

No mirage.

She fought to find her voice. “I—I... Keenan said Mitzi lost something here. An earring, a silver hoop with some scrollwork. I told him I cleaned before I left the house, but he was so adamant I stop over and check—”

She was babbling. Without him saying a word, she suddenly understood there was no lost earring.

“Mitzi didn't lose an earring, did she?”

“No. No lost earring.” He smiled. “I wanted to see you.”

“You're here.” Her gaze searched his face. “What are you doing here?”

“I can't be anywhere else but where you are. I've missed you, Sylvie.”

Tears stung the backs of her eyes, but she blinked them back. “What about your job?”

“You were right. My career is medicine. My sister is the new COO of O'Shea Sports.”

“I thought your dad didn't want a female.”

“He's come to realize she's the best O'Shea for the job.”

Something in those watchful gray eyes told her he'd had more than a little to do with his father's change of heart.

“I have a plane ticket to Boston tomorrow.” She blurted out the words.

A look of puzzlement blanketed his face. “Why?”

“I thought you were there and I realized that I can't be anywhere else but where you are.”

“Well, I'm here and I'm not going anywhere.”

Suddenly she was in his arms.

He held her tightly.

“I love you, Sylvie.” He let go of her long enough to reach into his pocket. “This must have been in my drawer, because I found it when I got to Boston and unpacked.”

The emerald-cut diamond caught the overhead light, sending colors sparkling in the air.

“It was yours,” she said.

“No.” He slipped it on her finger, his gaze never leaving hers. “It's yours. It's always been yours. If you want it.”

She nodded, unable to push words past the massive lump in her throat. But she didn't need to speak for a long time, because his mouth covered hers and suddenly he was kissing her and she was kissing him back.

Kisses that spoke of promises made and promises that would be kept, of love lost and love found.

“Come with me.” He stepped back and took her hand. “We have some celebrating to do.”

“I thought that's what we were doing.”

He grinned, and her world, which had been off balance since he'd walked out the door last week, righted itself.

She laced her fingers with his. After only a few steps, she stopped and sniffed the air. “I smell cake. Chocolate cake.”

“Well, it is your birthday...”

Pleasure rippled through her. “You bought me a cake. No one ever bought me a cake.”

“I
baked
you a cake.”

The creation sat on the small table in the kitchen. He'd topped the double-layer chocolate with a slew of flickering candles that doubtless added up to twenty-seven.

It was the most beautiful cake she'd ever seen. She clasped her hands together. “It's lovely.”

“Part of it fell.” He grimaced. “I had to add more frosting to make the top even.”

Her heart swelled. “It's perfect.”

“You know what's perfect?”

“The cake,” she said firmly.

“You're perfect.” He wrapped his arms around her. “For me.”

“Hey, that's what I was going to say.”

Andrew chuckled. “Happy birthday, my love.”

As his lips closed over hers, Sylvie held him tight, knowing they were both right where they belonged.

That was the greatest gift of all.

* * * * *

Don't miss out on previous books in Cindy Kirk's
RX FOR LOVE
miniseries,

THE DOCTOR'S VALENTINE DARE,

THE M.D.'S UNEXPECTED FAMILY

and

READY, SET, I DO!

Available now wherever Harlequin Special Edition books and ebooks are sold.

Keep reading for an excerpt from
HER MAVERICK M.D.
by Teresa Southwick.

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