Won't You Be My Husband?

“I’m afraid it’s not that simple.”

“Who is this mystery lady, for crying out loud?” Lauren teased, enjoying Nick’s obvious discomfort at having to admit his problem. “The boss’s wife?”

“Exactly.”

Lauren’s jaw dropped. “You’re kidding.”

“Wish I were. Will you help me?”

“I don’t know if this is such a good idea. Won’t there be complications at your office? I mean, your boss will surely spread the word. Telling a white lie to Frank, who, with luck, I’ll never see again, is one thing. Telling one to your co-workers is quite another. Won’t they wonder if they don’t see us out together now and then?”

“I rarely socialize with my co-workers, so I seldom see them anywhere besides the office. If I do, I’ll just tell them you’re delivering a baby or something.” He took both her hands in his. “So can you do it?” he asked, flashing her a killer smile.

Lauren sighed and gave up the ghost. Freeing her hands, she dug in her purse for her pocket calendar. A quick peek at it revealed she could probably manage a dinner party in ten days. “I can do it, and I will—”

“Thanks, Sissy.”

“—on the condition that you never, ever call me that again.”

“Agreed…Dr. West. Now dinner is at eight. I’ll pick you up at seven-thirty.”

“Okay.” Lauren dropped the calendar in her purse, then dug around for one of her personal cards, which she handed to him, along with a slightly squashed chocolate bar. “Here’s my address. There’s my home phone number. Is this thing dressy?”

“Dressy enough. I have to wear a tie.” He looked as if the thought choked him as much as the tie would.

Lauren laughed, pleased to see that a little of the old Nick still lurked inside the new. Not that there was one thing wrong with the new Nick. She found the combination of the past and present a most tempting package.

But who had time for temptation? Certainly not Lauren, who was suddenly assailed with second thoughts about the wisdom of all this. As if reading them, Nick frowned.

“You’re not going to back out on me, are you?”

“No,” Lauren heard herself say. “This is a debt of honor, after all, and I—oops!” Her pager, clipped out of sight on the waistband of her jeans before she left for the stadium that morning, vibrated against her skin. With a sigh, Lauren raised the hem of her sweater and pressed a button to illuminate the number of her paging service. “Must be a real problem for them to page me here. I’m on fifth call today.”

“Fifth call? What in the heck is that?”

“It’s a rather complicated on-call system my partners and I worked out to keep our patients happy. Most of them are…hmm, I’m not sure how to put this…”

“Filthy rich?”

Lauren laughed. “I was going to say spoiled rotten, but filthy rich is appropriate, too. Anyway, to make sure every patient gets immediate and personal attention, my partners and I rotate responsibility. First call gets called first. Second call gets called if the doctor on first call is already busy. Third call—”

Nick held up his hands as if warding off a blow. “I get the picture, I get the picture. And I’m wondering ‘who’s on first’?”

“Dr. Carmencita Renfroe has first call tonight,” Lauren replied, only belatedly realizing Nick referred to the classic Abbott and Costello routine and not her equally complicated call schedule. She stuck out her tongue at him, an action that won her his mischievous grin. “I really have to go.”

“Not before we shake on this engagement thing.” Nick reached for her hand, but instead of a shake, he gave it a kiss…right in the sweaty palm. Lauren’s heart screeched to a halt then jump started back to life. She snatched her hand away and swiped it down her jeans.

“Just what was that?” she demanded, feigning indignation. It wouldn’t do for him to know just how much she wished that kiss had landed on her lips instead of in her hand.

“Inexcusable,” Nick said with a decidedly sheepish smile. “Just because I’m already half in lust with you is no excuse for me to act like Frank. I’m sorry, and I promise I won’t ever do it again.”

“Oh, you don’t have to go that far,” Lauren thoughtlessly blurted out even as she registered his “half in lust” comment. Too late she heard the echo of her own candid reply. “What I mean is, I’d never compare you to Frank. You two aren’t a bit alike.”

“That’s true. I’m an architect—he’s a doctor.”

Lauren blinked at that response. Did Nick mean he considered them alike in ways other than professional? she instantly wondered. Like, maybe, sexual…?

Half in lust.

The very concept took her breath away, probably because Lauren was already half—if not three-fourths—in lust with him, too.

Amazing what a few years of growing up could do.

She swallowed hard, suddenly as rattled as a teenager on a first date, even though she was as experienced as two serious affairs could leave her.

“Now I’ll be out of touch for a few days,” Nick said. “But I’ll call your secretary early next week to have her remind you about our date, okay?”

“Okay,” she told him, though the chances of her forgetting were slim and none. “I really have to go, Nick.” With a wave, she spun on her heel and tried to put some distance between them.

“Lauren?”

“What?” She paused but did not dare turn to look at him again.

“Who the hell is Stephen?”

Lauren smiled to herself. “Diana’s husband, Stephen Bayer.”

“So he’s family,” Nick murmured, softly adding, “Good,” a word that Lauren barely heard; a word that did not give her peace of mind…or body.

True to his word, Nick called Lauren’s office the day of the dinner party and asked for her secretary. After identifying himself, he explained that he was an old friend of Dr. West’s who wanted to remind her about a social commitment.

“You don’t sound old,” replied the young woman, who called herself Lisa.

Nick heard her playful tone and grinned, liking her on the spot. “Must be the connection. You don’t sound a day over twenty-one, yourself.”

“I’m not a day over twenty-one,” she retorted with a laugh. “I am old enough to take a message, however. What do you want me to put in this one?”

Nick grinned a little bigger. “Just remind Dr. West that she has a date with me tonight at seven-thirty.”

“Did you say…a date?” Lisa sounded as if the concept were a new one.

“A date. You do know what one of those is, don’t you?”

“I certainly do,” she replied, somewhat hesitantly adding, “Though I’m not at all sure Dr. West does.”

Her casual comment stayed on Nick’s mind all day. Lauren didn’t date? Unbelievable! Was she too busy? Too tired? Too picky?

Couldn’t be picky, Nick thought with a dry laugh as he drove his sleek silver Mercedes-Benz to Lauren’s Dallas neighborhood that night. He glanced at his gold wristwatch, purchased with money from his first Avery, Sanders and Wright, Inc. paycheck some four years ago. Remembering how he’d passed over a style he liked better so he could purchase the most expensive one in the jewelry store, he noted the time, 7:15, and shook his head. Thank goodness money had finally lost its hold on him. It had taken a couple of years—the scars of poverty ran deep—but now he could honestly say he knew what was important.