The Good Doctor

“I’d like to go,” she hurried to say. “I just wanted to let you off the hook. It would almost be like a blind date.”

“I’m not blind, Violet.” His gaze as it passed over her made her stomach flip-flop, and she didn’t know what to say to that.

“Do you plan to stick around here much longer?” he asked.

“I don’t know. I have to pay for my bid.”

“I’d like you to meet one of my patients. Would you come with me to San Juan Hospital?”

“Now?”

“Yep, right now.”

She waved to her gown. “Dressed like this?”

“Believe me, no one’s going to care.”

He intrigued her with his request. “All right. I’ll pay for you.” She abruptly stopped. “I mean for our date…then I’ll meet you in the lobby.”

“I’ll go with you. I want to give a donation of my own.”

Then his hand was at her elbow and he was guiding her through the people and the tables.

Violet wasn’t used to any man besides her father and brothers being protective of her, but as Peter’s fingers scorched her skin, she glanced up at him, tall and strong and broad-shouldered. She felt a quickening inside she’d never felt before. What was wrong with her?

They had to wait in line at the table set up near the doors where other women were also paying for their bids.

“Did your sisters help organize this?” she asked.

“They certainly did. They’ve been very involved with the pediatrics wing ever since it was built.”

“They did a wonderful job. Is your father here?”

“No,” Peter said tersely. Then when he realized that had sounded sharp, he offered, “After my mother died, my father went on with his life.”

“That’s a good thing, right?” Violet prompted, hoping Peter would reveal more.

“That depends on how you look at it. He remarried less than a year after my mother died.”

“How old were you?”

“I was thirteen, Stacey was eleven, and Linda was nine.”

“I’m sorry, Peter. I can’t imagine losing a parent at my age now, let alone when I was that young.”

The line had dwindled away and now the woman at the table collecting checks looked up expectantly at Violet.

Peter took his checkbook from an inside jacket pocket and she knew the conversation was closed. Maybe that was best. She and the doctor were colleagues in Ryan’s care and she should keep it at that.

A few minutes later they were walking through the lobby of the hotel when Peter commented, “I only caught a few glimpses of Ryan, but he looked tired tonight. Are his symptoms becoming any more pronounced?”

“Not that I’ve noticed, but he’s used to hiding them from Lily.”

“What did he tell her about staying in Houston overnight?”

“She thinks he’s having dinner with business associates and then a late meeting.”

The doorman held the door for them as they stepped into the night. Peter gestured to the parking area at the side of the hotel and removed a remote control from his trouser pocket. When a black SUV beeped, Violet knew which vehicle was his. She remembered seeing it in his garage the other night. To her surprise and pleasure, he opened the door for her. As she climbed in, the slit on her dress opened wide.

“So those things have a practical purpose,” he noted in a wry tone.

The panel of the dress had slipped to the side, giving him a good look at her thigh and leg. She’d worn a dress like this before. She’d felt men’s gazes on her before. But right now with Peter’s eyes lighting with male appreciation, she felt self-conscious. Lifting the beaded material, she covered her leg on the pretense that she was protecting the fabric from the door. After Peter made sure she was safely tucked inside, he closed it.

Moments later her perfume mingled with the scent of his cologne in the car. Violet couldn’t help but watch Peter’s hand as he turned the key in the ignition then backed out of the parking space and drove through the parking lot. His hands were large, his fingers were long, and she could imagine his expertise in surgery. Unfortunately, she could imagine a lot more. How long had it been since a man had touched her…really touched her?

“Ever been to San Juan Hospital?” he asked.

“I was in the E.R. a few years ago when Miles had a run-in with barbed wire and needed stitches.”

“Ouch.”

Violet smiled. “That’s not exactly what he said.”

At Peter’s chuckle, she asked, “Do you know my brothers?”

“I met Steven at one of Ryan and Lily’s New Year’s Eve parties. Your other brothers in passing.”

“Were you at Steven and Amy’s wedding?” Her brother had found the love of his life. When they had gotten married about a week ago, she hadn’t seen Peter among the guests.

“I had just arrived when I got a call from the hospital. I had to leave before the wedding even got started. I heard your brother Clyde got married, too.”

“Yep, he sure did. They’ll be back from their honeymoon next week. Steven and Amy only took a few days because they want to get his new ranch in order for the party honoring Ryan.”

“I heard he’s receiving the Hensley-Robinson Award. He deserves it.”

Peter turned into the hospital’s parking lot. Instead of heading for the parking garage, he veered toward the side of the building where signs marked the slots for physicians.

A few minutes later a security guard at the sliding glass doors nodded at Peter and gave Violet an interested glance. Her long gown obviously wasn’t a usual sight at the hospital. As Peter guided Violet through the deserted lobby, he nodded to an older woman sitting at the information desk.

“Good evening, Myra.”

“Good evening yourself, Dr. Clark. Spiffy getup. I’m glad to see you’ve been somewhere other than this hospital. He works too many hours,” she confided to Violet as if she’d known her all her life.

“I hear doctors have that problem,” Violet responded with a straight face.

“See you later, Myra,” Peter said with a wave as he cupped Violet’s elbow and guided her toward the elevators.

His touch sent electricity up her arm, and she wondered what he looked like under that tuxedo. When her cheeks grew hot, she banished the thought. She didn’t know what had gotten into her since she’d met Peter Clark, but she didn’t like it. Since she was a teenager, her head had ruled her life, not hormones, not her heart, not any other part of her. That wasn’t going to change now.