The Wilders

He had too much on his mind to deal with the burden of his father’s request right now.

But the discovery hung over him heavily and made him far more serious than usual. A couple of his patients remarked on it, as did Eva, his nurse. All of them attributed the change in mood to his father’s passing.

He said nothing to correct them. This was not something he wanted to discuss even if he were free to do so.

The morning went on endlessly until the last patient was finally gone at twelve-thirty. It had taken Eva less than two minutes to grab her purse and run off to lunch.

“Want me to bring you back anything?” she offered just before she slipped out.

“No, I’m fine. I brought lunch.” It was a lie, but his appetite had deserted him last night, making no reappearance this morning. Food was the last thing on his mind.

“Okay, I’ll be back soon,” she promised, exiting.

He heard the outer office door close and turned his attention back to the work he’d spread out on his desk. There were several files he wanted to review before signing off on them.

Something else he probably wouldn’t be able to do soon if NHC came in, he thought. They were pushing for paperless offices. All the files would be on computer, on some nebulous server located in the middle of the country.

And what would everyone do if there was a power spike? Or a blackout. What then? What would happen to all the information that was stored?

Give me paper any day, he thought, opening the first folder he came to.

Forcing himself to focus, he was immersed in the file—and the patient—within seconds.

Preoccupied, he didn’t hear the knock on his inner office door, and was startled a bit when Bethany walked in. He sighed inwardly. Any other time he’d have been glad to see her. Now, the last thing he needed was another frontal assault about the virtues of NHC.

He felt his temper shortening already. “I’m in the middle of something,” he told her, then looked back at what he’d been reading.

“I won’t take up much of your time,” she promised. “I just came to give you this.”

Curious, he looked up in time to see her place a bottle of wine, tied with a bright red ribbon, on his desk.

He eyed it for a long moment. He was familiar enough with wine to know that this was not an inexpensive bottle hastily purchased at the nearest supermarket. This brand took a bit of hunting.

Why was she bringing it to him? She couldn’t possibly be trying to bribe him. Or could she? He leaned back. His eyes never left her face. “What’s this?”

This was not easy for her. But she had always prided herself on being fair. “An apology.”

That was the last thing he’d expected from her. Especially since he wasn’t quite sure what she was referring to. “For?”

She took a breath before answering. This was going to be a little tricky, but he’d impressed her a great deal last night. “For thinking that you’re an arrogant jerk who doesn’t see past his own ego.”

Instead of taking offense, he laughed. At least she was being honest and, after the surprise he’d received, being honest was a very good thing. “I thought you said you thought I was a saint.”

She felt relieved that he was taking this in the spirit it was intended. “No, I said other people thought you were a saint. To be honest, I thought that maybe you were using that image to make people see things your way.”

He supposed he could understand her feeling that way, especially considering the world she came from. Big-business dealings were hardly ever without some kind of backroom dealings.

“And now you’ve suddenly changed your mind about me because—”

She knotted her hands before her. “Because I watched you in action. Because you didn’t stop to worry about being sued if something went wrong.” Even though she had deliberately pointed it out to him last night. “Because you just got in there and helped that boy simply because he was a human being in trouble.” She had to admit, if only to herself, that she’d felt a certain thrill watching him rush to the rescue like some modern-day hero. “You almost make me yearn for the ‘good old days.’”

He laughed, shaking his head. “You’re much too young to have been around for the good old days.” He said it as if he were far more than merely nine years older than she. Peter indicated the bottle of wine. “Apology accepted.” Taking it in hand, he held the bottle out to her, implying that she was free to take it back. “But you really don’t have to do this.”

She made no move to accept the wine. It was clear she was disappointed that he seemed not to want the peace offering.

“We don’t seem to agree on anything, do we?”

Not wanting to offend her, Peter put the bottle down again. “Well, I do remember us being in agreement at one point last night.” He looked at her significantly, a hint of a smile on his lips.

Bethany could feel heat rising in her cheeks.

“Perhaps one,” she allowed.

“Maybe there’s more where that came from,” he speculated. Then, in case she thought he was suggesting something a little more personal, he added, “Agreements, I mean.”

Her eyes met his. “Maybe,” she echoed softly. She wasn’t talking about being in agreement, only in concert. She could feel her face growing yet warmer. So much for poise. Bethany cleared her throat. “I’d better get out of your way.”

“You’re not in my way,” he said. And suddenly, as much as he had wanted to be alone before, he didn’t anymore. His father’s revelation had left him in a strange, vulnerable place. He’d always felt so sure about everything, so confident. Now he wasn’t. It was as if he was back in college again, just after Lisa had abruptly left him. “Stay for a minute,” he urged. “Unless there’s somewhere else you need to be.”

He gave her a way out, but she didn’t want to take it, not just yet. So she edged back toward his desk and sat down in the chair opposite his desk. “Aren’t you busy?” she asked, nodding at the files.

“It’s nothing that won’t keep.” He closed the top folder but left it where it was. “Just paperwork I thought I’d catch up on. It’s a losing battle,” he added with a slight, disparaging sigh. “There never seems to be enough time to catch up on it all. Besides, no one ever died saying ‘I wish I’d had the chance to catch up on all my paperwork.’”

“What would they regret?” What would he regret, she couldn’t help wondering.

“Not spending enough time smelling the roses.” It was something he sincerely advocated but hardly ever did. The closest he came was to urge his patients to do it. “Or take in the beauty that’s around them.” He was looking directly at her as he said it. Her cheeks began to take on color again. “You’re growing pinker,” he commented, amused.

She’d give anything for a good, solid tan right now, but given the weather, it would have been rust, not tan. “The room is warm,” Bethany murmured. She lowered her eyes. “If that compliment was intended for me, Peter, you might think about having your eyes checked.”

This wasn’t false modesty, he realized. She really meant what she was saying. “Hasn’t anyone ever told you that you’re beautiful before?”

Not once, she thought. Not ever. And when she was growing up, the exact opposite was true. Kids were cruel and her parents didn’t provide a haven for her where she could lick her wounds. Looking back, she supposed that was a toughening device on its own.

Since he was obviously waiting for an answer, she told him the truth. “You’d be the first.”

He couldn’t believe that. “Where did you grow up, in a swamp covered with mud?”

The sincerity in his voice delighted her. “No, just with people who had twenty-twenty vision.” Her parents, especially her mother, could be trusted to point out her flaws, but never comment on any of her attributes. They expected her to be a high achiever. Anything less was not acceptable. And there was always Belinda to live up to. “Unlike yours.” A self-deprecating smile played on her lips. “I was the original ugly duckling.”

“You remember the rest of the story, don’t you?” he asked. “That so-called ugly duckling became a beautiful swan.”

She shrugged, looking away. “I haven’t reached that part yet.”

If asked, he would have said that Bethany Holloway did not lack confidence, but obviously, he would have been wrong. “Not only have you reached it, Bethany, you’ve surpassed it.”

When she looked at him, there was something enigmatic in his expression. “What?”

Peter was silent for a long moment, debating whether or not to say anything or just shrug away her question. But she’d taken the first step and held her hand out in a truce. He couldn’t be any less of a man than she was.

The second he’d thought it, he realized that it was a sexist thought, but he hadn’t meant it that way. “It’s my turn to offer you an apology.”

“For what?” Was he apologizing for walking out on her in the cafeteria, or something else?

“For thinking you were like someone else I once knew.” Maybe that was why he’d reacted so strongly against her when she put forth her arguments. “You’re not a thing like her.”

“Like who?” she asked. “And why do you think would I be insulted if I’d known you were comparing us?”

“Lisa Dandridge.” He saw the next question in her eyes. “Someone I once knew in college. Someone who didn’t turn out to be who I thought she was. At first glance, you look a lot like her.”

There were things he wasn’t saying. Before she got carried away, reading between the lines, she decided to get it straight from the horse’s mouth. “This Lisa, was she important to you?”

“For a while, yes.” For a while, she was the moon and the stars to him. Until he’d suffered an eclipse.

“How important?” she pressed.

Well, he’d started this. He had no one to blame but himself for her question. To withdraw now wouldn’t be fair. “Engaged-to-be-married important.”

Bethany fell silent for a second. She hadn’t expected him to say that. “Oh.” There was no follow-up from him. “Well, don’t leave me hanging,” she prompted. “What happened?”

“We got unengaged.”

She hadn’t gotten to where she was by being a shrinking violet. “And that happened because …?”

Because. It was an all-purpose word that covered so much territory. “Because she found someone else.”

Her mouth dropped open. “She cheated on you?” How could any woman in her right mind cheat on someone who looked like Peter? Who was obviously as decent as he was? There was no doubt in her mind that he was better off without this Lisa person.

He’d never known whether Lisa had slept with Steven Wilson, the medical student she’d left him for. He never wanted to let his thoughts go that far. It was enough that she’d left him for the reasons she’d cited.

He shrugged, looking out the window. More snow. Just what they needed, he thought. “We never got into that.”

“Then why did you two break up?” He struck her as the type of man who didn’t easily give up on a woman he professed to love.

Her question brought the past vividly back to him. “The ‘other man’ had ‘more potential’ than I had. He was going into his father’s prestigious practice in New York and I was coming back here, to work with my father in a place that was far less lucrative and upscale. Lisa didn’t see herself living in Walnut River. She saw herself shopping on Fifth Avenue.”

“What an awful woman.” The words just came out before she could stop them.

“No, Lisa just knew her limitations. Knew what would make her happy. And obviously, it wasn’t going to be me.”

Bethany frowned. “Well, you were better off without someone like that.” She paused, thinking. “And you think I look like her?”

Peter laughed softly. “At first glance, perhaps. But you’re far more beautiful than she ever was.”

Bethany felt her breath backing up in her lungs. “Really?” she whispered.

“Really.”

He was looking at her lips. She felt herself getting warm again. “I think I’d better get back to my office,” she murmured.

He nodded. “Maybe you’d better do that,” he agreed. Before he went with the demands inside him that were beginning to grow insistent. “And thanks for the wine. I’ll save it until I have something to celebrate.” He looked at her as she edged her way to the door. “Maybe we’ll even share it together.”

He was referring to the board’s vote regarding the possible takeover. Did he think because she’d brought him a peace offering that she was throwing her vote in with his? Or was that his way of saying he might reconsider his own stand?

She didn’t want to ask and risk spoiling the moment. So she inclined her head in agreement. “Maybe we will,” she agreed as she slipped out.

He found himself smiling as he returned to his files.

Chapter Eleven

Though she told herself she wasn’t, the truth of it was Bethany was looking forward to the fundraiser. However, none of the reasons she’d cited to herself regarding why it was important to attend the function were responsible for creating that warm, nervous feeling in the pit of her stomach. There was only one reason for that.

She was going with the man who had literally made the world fade away when he’d kissed her.

Okay, so he’d kissed her and she’d liked it. Really liked it. But there was no reason, she told herself, to believe anything of that nature was going to happen again. It was an aberration, a once-in-a-lifetime occurrence. Peter Wilder was a healer, not a lover, even though he had a lethal mouth that had melted her like drawn butter.

Professional, she silently insisted—it was all going to be strictly professional. If there was anything she was, it was professional.

She was still silently clinging to this belief, repeating it over and over again like some kind of mantra, as she went shopping for “the right dress.”

It turned out to be a gown, a gown like no other she’d ever owned. The moment she saw it on the alabaster mannequin, she’d fallen in love with the gleaming creation.

Because the gown wasn’t her.

It was the kind of gown that belonged on a socialite, a jet-setter, someone who was accustomed to frequenting parties on both coasts and collecting heady, over-the-top compliments.

Depending on the light, the gown, suspended on two thin gossamerlike straps, was either silver or gray-blue, and when she put it on, it adhered to every curve she had. Moreover, it somehow miraculously awarded her more cleavage than she was accustomed to having and the material swayed provocatively with every step she took. Simultaneously, the material played peekaboo with the slit that ran from her ankle to halfway up her thigh, drawing the beholder’s attention to the fact that whatever other attributes she might possess, Bethany Holloway, former card-carrying ugly duckling, had stunning, killer legs that seemed to go on forever.

Because she was ordinarily governed by more than her share of logic, Bethany put the gown back on the rack three separate times before she finally snatched it up and fairly trotted to the register.

In most cases, the purchase price of the designer gown would have been prohibitive for someone earning the kind of salary she did. But money had never been a problem for Bethany, never the bottom line that proved to be a deciding factor. What her family lacked in warmth and nurturing attributes it made up for with money. Specifically, a trust fund that was passed on through her mother’s family. Martha Royce, her mother’s mother, had been obscenely wealthy. The woman believed in giving her descendents a sizable jumpstart in life, not out of any sort of affection but because she believed her lineage was better than anyone else’s and should be rewarded for that.

Her grandmother died the year before Bethany graduated from college. At the funeral, which included both her parents and Belinda, she was the only one who shed any tears at the woman’s passing.

As she looked at herself now in her wardrobe mirror, Bethany couldn’t help wondering what her grandmother would have said if she’d seen her in this gown.

You go, girl.

Bethany smiled to herself, pressing her hand to her unsettled stomach. If the stories she’d heard about the woman’s youth, mostly through relatives other than her parents, were true, Grandmother had been a rebel and a hell-raiser. She only wished she had inherited a little more of the woman’s spirit instead of her money.

Then, at the very least, she wouldn’t feel as nervous as she did about wearing this gown.

Really, darling, this kind of a gown should be worn by someone who can carry it off, don’t you think?

This time it was her mother’s voice that had popped into her head to haunt her. Her mother who, even when she was seemingly praising her always made Bethany feel as if she were lacking.

Bethany set her jaw, deliberately shutting her mother’s perpetually condescending voice out. She really liked the gown, liked the way she looked in it. She looked, she thought, like someone special.

She fervently hoped she wasn’t just deluding herself.

The doorbell rang, breaking into her thoughts. The next second, she could feel her stomach seizing up and her heart beginning to race.

Maybe this was a mistake. What was she trying to prove? This backless, almost strapless silvery revelry wasn’t her. She belonged in subdued colors, quiet shades that didn’t call attention to all the things she lacked. Her nerves spiked to incredible highs as she looked toward her closet.

But it was too late to change, too late to surrender to second thoughts on their third pass-through. She was going to have to wear this.

Here goes nothing.

Taking a deep breath, Bethany walked out of her bedroom and to the front door on legs she willed to be steady.

Opening the door, she summoned her brightest, most carefree smile—or some reasonable facsimile thereof.

And then she saw him. Peter was wearing a formal tux. God, but he looked handsome.

“Hi,” she heard herself murmur through lips that felt frozen in place.

The next moment, she saw Peter’s dark eyes slowly travel down the length of her before returning to her face. Unable to tell what he was thinking, she held her breath, waiting for the verdict.

He already knew, even if she professed not to, that Bethany was beautiful. But in this dress, she transcended anything that had come before. The word vision didn’t even begin to cover it, but it was the only word his numbed brain would come up with.

Realizing that he was staring, Peter cleared his throat. He was stalling, searching for his voice. There was a very real danger of it emerging in a squeak. She did take his breath away.

When he smiled, she could feel warmth spreading all through her.

“I should have brought my portable defibulator,” he murmured. When she raised a quizzical eyebrow, he explained, “I think my heart just stopped.”

Was he teasing her? Telling her it was inappropriate? Rather than become defensive, she bowed to his experience. This was her first fund-raiser at Walnut River General and she didn’t want to look out of place.

Bethany looked down at her dress. “You think it’s too much?”

He laughed at the innocent question. “On the contrary, I don’t think it’s enough.” He saw the uneasiness enter her eyes and quickly added, “I mean, it’s fine with me, but I’m not sure I’m up on my dueling techniques.”

“Dueling techniques?” she repeated, confused.

He nodded. “The way I see it, I might be called upon several times this evening to defend your honor.”

He was teasing, but in a nice way. Pleasure whispered through her.

Bethany caught her lower lip between her teeth in an unselfconscious, endearing way that just further evaporated his breath. At this rate, he was going to need an oxygen tank before they reached the hotel ballroom.

“I could change,” she offered.

He didn’t see that as an option. She was almost too beautiful to bear. “And break the hearts of every single male over the age of eight within ten miles? I think not.”

So what was he telling her? That he liked the way she looked? Or was he trying to say something else? Bemused, she shook her head. “You certainly know how to confuse a girl with a compliment.”

He couldn’t help but laugh at the word she’d used. He would have thought that the term “girl” would have offended her. She was more reasonable than he’d given her credit for. He liked that.

“Trust me, Bethany,” he assured her. “You might still feel like a girl inside, but outside, you are all woman.”

She felt her cheeks warming. This was getting to be a habit around him. She tried to divert his attention from the deepening hue of her skin. “When did you learn to be so charming?”

“About two minutes ago, when you opened the door.”

It wasn’t the answer she was expecting. He definitely wasn’t the stiff, humorless man she’d initially taken him for. Bethany picked up her coat and her purse from the sofa where she’d placed them earlier. “You really are full of surprises, aren’t you?”

Peter took the long black coat out of her hands and helped her into it. “The same can be said of you. Those two-piece business suits you wear at the hospital don’t begin to adequately convey what’s beneath.”

She tried her best not to glow at the compliment, but it wasn’t easy. “Nice to see you out of a lab coat, too.” Turning around, she looked at him again. His overcoat was open, giving her a full view of the tuxedo he wore. She noticed something else, as well. “You look younger.”

“That could be because tonight, I don’t have the weight of the world on my shoulders.” With his hand at the small of her back, he escorted her out the door. Bethany paused to lock her door. Turning, she took hold of his arm before she realized what she was doing. It just seemed like the natural thing to do. He smiled, completing his thought. “Just a beautiful woman on my arm.”

The cold wind carried the scent of another impending snowfall, whipping around, chilling any exposed area it could find.

“About that vision test …” she began playfully as she took small, careful steps to the curb where he had parked his vehicle.

“You should schedule to have one immediately,” he agreed. “You’re obviously not seeing how beautiful you really are.”

Blushing, she slid into the passenger seat and waited for him to round the hood and get in on his side. When he did, she said, “Uncle.”

Seat belt in his hand, he stopped mid-motion and looked at her quizzically. “Excuse me?”

“Isn’t that what you cry when you know you’re outmatched?” Bethany asked. She vaguely remembered hearing that once. “Uncle?”

Peter turned the key in the ignition. After a second, the car started up. He was going to have to remember to check his antifreeze level, he told himself. “Yes, but why—”

She sat back in her seat as they pulled out of the driveway. “I didn’t think that such a person existed, but you can clearly outtalk me.”

He spared Bethany a glance and smiled at her warmly. “Nice to know.”

Just as he’d expected, everyone in the ballroom turned their way when they walked in. Bethany looked far too stunning tonight for people to nonchalantly absorb her into the group without first appreciating every sensual inch of her.

The first to approach them, with the other members of the board not to far behind, was the chairman. The expression on Wallace’s moonlike face was that of extreme pride, as if he’d had a hand in inventing Bethany.

Wallace hadn’t even been the one to hire her. That had been his father’s doing, in order to get the hospital to run more smoothly, Peter thought. At least he could thank his father for something.

An odd sensation undulated through him. It took Peter several moments before he recognized it for what it was: possessiveness.

What was that all about? he demanded silently.