An Honorable Man

His heartbeat sped up to a gallop. “You wouldn’t have to try very hard.”

“Except I changed my mind.” The corners of her mouth drooped. “It’s pretty clear I’m not cut out for one-night stands.”

The gallop slowed to a trot. He blew out a breath, fighting the compulsion to disagree. “Why did you think you were?”

“It’s a long story.”

“I’ve got all night.” Pumping her for information about Dr. Whitmore could wait. He looked around for their waitress, didn’t find her and nodded at her barely touched whiskey. “I’m having another beer. Want me to get you something else?”

“A diet soda, please,” she said primly.

“Coming right up.” Pretending he didn’t feel as though he’d just lost a jackpot, he maneuvered through a maze of tables to the bar and placed his order.

The bartender was an attractive woman with curly black hair, huge, dark eyes and a warm smile. She could have been anywhere from twenty-five to thirty-five. With quick efficiency, she poured the soda, refilled his beer and set the drinks in front of him. “So how do you know the doc?”

“What doc?” Ryan asked.

She gestured to Sierra with her index finger, the funky bracelets she wore jangling together. “Dr. Whitmore. She looks fantastic tonight, not that she doesn’t usually. I just never saw her dress like that before.”

Shock momentarily squeezed Ben’s windpipe. He hid his astonishment the best he could, swallowed, then muttered the blandest response he could think of. “Mutual friends.”

He picked up his beer mug, his brain whirring. It seemed a fantastic coincidence until he noted he’d run across Sierra in the same block as Whitmore Family Practice. The office had been closed, but she must have been returning to the office, perhaps to finish up some work.

He examined her with new eyes en route to the table, putting her age at around thirty, probably just a little younger than he was. She could be Dr. Ryan Whitmore’s youthful wife, except she’d claimed not to be married. Was she his daughter?

Excitement flared. No matter how it had happened, he’d stumbled across a delicious opportunity to fill in the many blanks he had about Dr. Ryan Whitmore.

He closed in on Sierra, then noticed her face go white. He followed the direction of her gaze to the bar entrance. A slender man about his age of average height with blond hair receding at the temples nodded in Sierra’s direction. She inclined her head slightly, then gazed down at the table.

Her eyes didn’t raise until Ben took a seat across from her. They looked big and sad. He cursed inwardly, and the flame of exhilaration he felt when he discovered her last name extinguished.

He was not about to interrogate a woman as fragile as this one about Dr. Ryan Whitmore until he got some other questions answered.

“That long story you were going to tell me, does it have anything to do with that guy?” Ben indicated the new arrival with a slight jerk of his head.

She started. “How did you know that?”

“Lucky guess,” Ben said, although his deduction had more to do with powers of observation. “Here’s another. He’s the ex-boyfriend.”

Her chin trembled, and she nodded. “He called it off last month.”

“That’s rough,” he said. “Were you together long?”

“We’ve known each other since high school, but didn’t start dating until I was out of college.”

“Sounds serious.”

She snuck a look at her ex, then spoke in a voice so soft it was hard to hear. “Everybody thought we’d get married. My father treated him like a son.”

“So you were in love with him?”

She didn’t answer for so long he thought she regretted what she’d already revealed. Then, finally, she spoke. “I thought so. Now I’m not so sure. He’s solid and dependable, but set in his ways.”

“Ah,” Ben said as understanding dawned. “Is one of his routines coming to the Blue Haven on Friday nights?”

Guilt flitted across her face. “He’s here on Tuesdays and on Fridays, never for longer than an hour. He always orders mineral water with a twist of lime.”

“Sounds boring.”

“Funny you should use that word. He broke up with me because he said I was boring.” She crossed her arms over her midsection. “He may be right, too. I just proved it all over again with you.”

“Because you’re passing up that chance to have your way with me?” He made his eyebrows dance, coaxing the hint of a grin from her pretty bowed lips.

“Yes.” She cast another surreptitious glance at her ex-boyfriend, and the partial grin vanished. “No offense, but I’m calling it a night. Please don’t feel like you have to leave, too.”

“I can at least walk you out.” No way would he let her face her ex alone and vulnerable if he could help it. He pushed back from the table, then waited for her to precede him.

She put on her jacket and kept her eyes forward as they moved together toward the exit. The other man sat in a booth beside a window that afforded a view of the street. He stared at them intently, his gaze following them even after they were outside in the cool night air.

Ben stopped on the sidewalk and faced Sierra, careful to stay in her ex-boyfriend’s sight line. “I take it you met me tonight so your ex could see us together?”

She grimaced, her slightly crooked nose crinkling. “Partly. And partly to prove to myself I could be unpredictable.” She gazed heavenward, then down again. “Except neither of those worked out so well.”

“They could,” he said. “Your ex is awfully interested in what we’re doing out here.”

“We’re not doing anything,” she said.

“We will be.” He advanced a step and gathered her into his arms. Before she could stiffen, he whispered, “Relax or it won’t look realistic.”

She blinked up at him. “What won’t look realistic?”

“The show we’re going to give him.”

He half expected her to yank out of his arms, but she surprised him, relaxing her body so she appeared less tense than at any other time tonight. He could smell the light floral scent he now knew was her shampoo mixed with the warmth of her skin as her soft curves molded against him. A glint of mischievousness appeared in her eyes. “Do you think we can pull it off?”

“Oh, yeah.” He winked at her, then dipped his head.

Her lips molded to his in the sweetest of kisses, her arms twining around his neck to pull him close. He angled his body and gathered her intimately against him so her jerk of an ex-boyfriend could get an eyeful.

Their embrace confirmed what he already knew: Her ex was an idiot. Nothing was remotely boring about a woman who could kiss like this.

She might have been pretending, but it was a good act. She was tall for a woman, especially in her spiked heels, but felt delicate in his arms. He threaded his fingers through her luxurious long hair, which felt like silk against his skin. Her lips clung to his, her tongue darting out to stroke the tip of his. He accepted her invitation, letting his tongue slide inside her mouth.

He’d kissed a lot of women in his thirty-one years but never did he remember a first kiss like this. Their mouths melded, their bodies fit, their hearts seemed to beat in tandem. His arousal was instantaneous.

A rumble echoed in his ears, which he attributed to the blood roaring through his veins. A shrill staccato noise blared. A car horn. Belatedly, he remembered where he was and what he was doing. Correction. What he was attempting to convince Sierra he was doing.

Putting on a show. With a relative of the man who might have been involved in his mother’s death, no less.