by Lori Wilde
But she did have a great dress.
Eli hung up the phone with a grimace. He was out of practice when it came to asking a woman on a date. His late wife had been the last person he’d asked out, and they’d both been about seventeen at the time. Damn, he’d almost blown it with the most interesting woman he’d met in a long time, like maybe eighteen years.
He missed Gina, but she’d been gone for over seven years. After her death, he’d dove headfirst into his residency. He’d stayed at the hospital almost nonstop for the first three years. The long hours, the mental grind and sheer exhaustion made time pass by in a blur.
Then, later in his residency, he’d gone to the frontlines of the war to get surgical experience with traumatic injuries. Those days had been thrilling and mind-numbingly terrifying. Occasionally, it had flittered through his mind that if he died over there, it might be okay.
But he hadn’t, and he told himself it was time to move on with his life, a major factor in his decision to take this temporary position in Texas. Sure, he was helping out a classmate, but physically separating from New York City with all its memories to a house in a small town in Texas, did help with his mindset. Her parents and his in-laws had been wonderfully supportive in the years since her death, even going so far as to help him remove Gina’s clothing and shoes. But her touches in the apartment had remained.
The painting over the fireplace that she’d bought in Paris on their honeymoon.
The four million pillows she’d insisted their bed needed.
The grand piano she’d played.
Living in a place so imprinted with her memories had finally became too much for him to endure. Last year, he’d sold everything, including the apartment, and moved to his parents’ place in the Hamptons. The wind, the sand, the salt air had helped piece himself back together, not the way he’d been. That man was gone. Today, he was a different man, molded from life experiences and a lot of beach time. He was ready to start over.
Of course, starting over meant back in New York City, not Whispering Springs, Texas. He’d agreed to do these six months for Hank as a favor. As soon as the position at New York Midtown Orthopedic Practice was finalized, he’d be joining the largest and most prestigious orthopedic practice in New York. He’d be back in his element, back into the societal strata he’d grown up in.
Besides, who in their right mind would turn down a partnership in such a world-renowned practice?
The rest of the week flew. Joe gave him tons of grief about horseback riding, but that dare had gotten the teen out of his chair and onto prosthetics. He was making remarkable progress, which he never failed to point out to his doctor.
What Eli hadn’t said aloud was that he’d tried horseback riding at summer camp when he’d been about ten, once on his honeymoon and again a couple of years later on vacation. His late wife had ridden like she was one with the animal. Eli rode more like a melting scoop of ice cream on a hot day, slowly sliding off the side.
Eli was used to being the smartest guy in the group. As a kid, he’d been overweight and more interested in chess than athletic endeavors. His father had insisted Eli enroll in a summer camp that focused on outdoor activities like horseback riding. The camp had been the stuff of every kid’s nightmares. Using intellect and reason, he could usually work through any problem—until it came to horses. His horse anxiety and his lack of ability to overcome it had been a tough pill to swallow.
By the time he’d reached high school, he’d lost his baby fat, gotten contacts, and learned he was pretty good at running, earning a spot on the high school track team. But he’d never forgotten being the tormented as fat kid. Only the new girl in school saw him for how he was then. Gina had only known the tall, confident track star with brains. He’d liked that about her. Their history hadn’t encompassed those painful years.
He wished he hadn’t even raised the horse issue with Joe, who was like a dog with a bone on the topic. Still, he found ways to put off the teen each time he asked about Eli’s progress with riding. The time was quickly approaching when he’d be forced to admit he hadn’t done anything about the dare. That might be misconstrued by Joe that his doctor had been bullshitting him all along. That would certainly drive a serious wedge in the doctor-patient relationship.
Saturday came, and Eli found himself unexpectedly nervous about the date. Marti had been released as a patient, so it wasn’t as if he were breaking any medical tenet. Still, it’d been a while, and dating in high school had been easy compared to dating as an adult.
The drive to the Flying Pig Ranch took about five minutes longer than he’d planned. Since he’d left early, he arrived in plenty of time, but thank goodness for GPS. He might never have found his way along the unpaved back roads.
He turned and drove between the ranch’s gate posts. The drive was dirt and limestone gravel, and his car’s tires threw up both behind him. His first view of her house was exactly what his mind had envisioned: a two-story, white-stone, traditional ranch with a wraparound porch, complete with a couple of rockers and ferns hanging in pots.
Climbing from his SUV, he immediately noticed the aroma of sage and cedar that gave the air a freshly clean scent. He drew in a deep breath. His mother paid a fortune to housekeepers to get this fresh smell in the family home.
Horses in the corral nickered as they studied the new arrival, probably judging him inadequate. In the distance, a barn that appeared freshly painted stood with entrance doors securely closed, but a smaller one in the loft stood open.
On the other side of the house, a large pasture that looked to go on forever held various groupings of brown cows. Most of the cattle had settled down in the grass for the night. An owl hooted from somewhere. A light breeze made the leaves rustle. Peaceful, but not quiet.
Turning back to the horses, he studied them. They were beautiful creatures, no doubt about that. However, the thought of being on the back of one of them sent chills down his spine. The horrible memories of summer camp came rushing back. More than once, he found himself flat on his back after falling off. The counselors had assured him the horse had taken only a couple of steps, but Eli called bullshit. That horse had bucked him off. Of course, falling off a horse that basically wasn’t moving made Eli the target of lots of cruel jokes.
The next summer, he’d convinced his parents to send him to band camp, not that he was great with his saxophone. But at least he wasn’t the butt of all the jokes.
By high school, most of the geekiness stayed in his past.
Maybe he should just admit that he might be a great doctor, but would never be even an adequate rider.
He made his way up onto the front porch and rang the bell. After a few moments, he heard the slide of a window.
“Hey, I’m up here,” Marti called.
He backed off the porch and looked up. Marti looked down at him, a wide grin on her face. How could a simple smile transform her from pretty to total knockout? She appeared to be wearing a towel and not much else.
“Sorry, I’m running about ten minutes late. I had a stubborn bull who decided to jump a fence.”
Eli gestured to the towel and then to his tux. “I might be a little overdressed compared to you.”
She laughed, the sound ricocheting through him like a pinball.
“I’ll see if I can come up with something more appropriate to wear. Door’s open. Let yourself in. There’s beer and wine in the kitchen—if you can find it. Bourbon, scotch and whatever in the living room. Help yourself to a drink. I swear. I won’t be but just a minute.”
“Or ten,” he said.
She gave him a thumbs up and disappeared back into the house.
The door was unlocked, and he entered into a gleaming clean foyer. A flight of stairs leading to the second floor stood directly in front of him. He could probably march up those and find his semi-dressed date, not that he would, but the idea of Marti only partially dressed was enticing.
The wood of the floors and walls shined under the ceil
ing lights. The main living room was to his right, so he wandered in there. A large, now cold, fireplace dominated the room. A pair of chairs and a worn overstuffed sofa suggested the room got a lot of use. He had no trouble believing that. He could envision a roaring fire on a cold night and snuggling on the sofa.
Now, he was being ridiculous. He needed help from this woman, not snuggling on a cold night. Besides, he would be heading back to New York in only three short months, as soon as the partnership deal came through.
He sat on the sofa—comfortable as advertised—and studied the stack of magazines on the coffee table. He’d expected People, or Cosmopolitan, or some other rag directed at female readers. Instead, he leafed through Texas Cattlemen, Texas Women Ranchers, Whispering Springs’ local paper and today’s Wall Street Journal.
His brain chastised him. Sexist much, doctor?
He settled back to read the Wall Street Journal, but had gotten only a couple of pages in when he heard Marti’s footsteps on the stairs. Dropping the newspaper back onto the table, he rose. When she entered the room, his breath caught.
Holy shit. The cowgirl was gone. In her place stood an elegant, poised woman who might grace any social event his parents attended on a regular basis. And she’d achieved the look in under ten minutes.
“Wow,” he said with a gulp of air. He twirled a finger in the air. “Do a three-sixty.”
Her dark auburn hair was secured in a twist at the back of her head, but curly strands hung along her face. Her dress. Damn. What could he say? Thin, black straps held up a satiny-looking long straight dress that draped around her curves. It dipped modestly in the front, but when she turned away from him, his heart leapt at the sight she presented. The back dipped low to a vee just past her waist, leaving a luscious view of creamy, smooth skin. He gulped again.
“Wow. Just wow.”
Completing the turn, she grinned. “You clean up pretty good yourself, doctor.” She imitated his finger twirl. “Your turn.”
He turned in a circle then faced her again. “Sorry. Nothing tantalizing in my attire.”
She picked up a small black clutch from a side table and pointed it at him. “You are so wrong. Men underestimate the power of a suit, especially a well-fitting tux. I’ll be pushing my friends away from you all night.”
Chuckling, he walked to where she stood. “And here I was thinking the same about you, except I don’t know many people in Whispering Springs, so I’ll be dueling with strangers.”
A flush pinked her cheeks. “Nicest thing I’ve heard in a long time. Shall we go?”
Holding out a bent arm, he said, “Let’s go rock this shindig.”
Chapter 4
Call her shallow, but walking into a black tie affair on the arm of a drop-dead handsome guy beat walking in alone. As they entered the elaborate ballroom of the Grand Manor Hotel, Marti smiled and waved to a few people she knew. Eli acknowledged a couple of doctors with head tosses.
“I was right,” he whispered, bending to her ear.
She liked the way his breath feathered across her cheek. “About what?” she asked, her voice breathless.
“Walking in with the hottest chick in the room on my arm does make this easier.”
Her heart cartwheeled. She squeezed his arm. “And here I was thinking that being on the arm of such a handsome guy would make all my friends jealous.” She waved to Delene across the room, whose eyebrows shot high. “As far as I can see, my plan is working.”
He gave her a warm smile. “These poor men having to just make do with their dates after I snagged the best one.”
“You know it.” She laughed, not remembering a time lately when she’d last felt so carefree. Last fall’s broken engagement had hit her hard, personally and emotionally. “Where are we sitting?”
Pulling a card from inside his jacket, he said, “Table five.”
She arched an eyebrow. “Near the front. Now, I am impressed.”
He laughed and let her lead the way toward the front of the room. After they found table five, he asked, “Can I get you a drink?”
“Please. Dirty martini.”
“Brave choice.” He touched her bare shoulder.
His fleeting caress stirring the lava pit of lust inside her.
“Be right back.”
She set her purse on the table. There were no other patrons sitting there at the moment, but there were a couple of clutch purses, similar to hers, lying near place settings.
“Now, don’t tell me we are lucky enough to have Ms. Marti Jenkins at our table,” a masculine, Texas voice drawled.
She turned and spun into the arms of Jason Montgomery. “Jason! What a nice surprise.” She pulled his wife in for a hug. “Lydia. You look wonderful. I wondered if you’d be able to get away from the kids tonight.”
Jason and Lydia had adopted her sister’s children after a horrible accident took their parents’ lives. Then they’d had a baby of their own within a year.
Lydia laughed. “We are so lucky to both have parents here in town. My folks have the children. Jason’s folks have the rest of the Montgomery grandchildren.”
“Oh my goodness,” Marti said. “That’ll make for a wild time at their house this evening.”
“My folks love it,” Jason said. “Go figure.” He looked at his wife. “Drink?”
“Red wine, please.”
He glanced at Marti.
“My date’s bringing mine.”
He wandered off toward the bar as she and Lydia were joined by Paige Montgomery, Lydia’s sister-in-law, married to Cash Montgomery. Their conversation quickly drifted off onto the dresses worn for the evening. The men came back carrying drinks and the three couples took their seats, which left two open seats at the table.
“Any other Montgomerys joining us?” Marti asked.
“Not that I know of,” Jason said.
Cash shook his head. “Nope. The rest of them are on the other side of the room. Heaven knows I see enough of them at Sunday lunches. I don’t want to see them on Saturday night, too.”
The group at the table chuckled, while Jason playfully slugged Cash’s arm. Shortly, a tall man with a limp and a petite lady joined the table. As one, all the men stood for the new woman.
“Gracious,” she said in a thick Southern accent. “I’m so glad the Montgomery men were taught their manners.” She tapped Eli’s arm. “And you, sir, where are you from?”
“New York, ma’am,” Eli said.
“Ah, a Yankee in our midst,” she replied with a grin.
“Only visiting,” he assured her. “We’re not invading, or at least not yet.”
Her laugh was soft and gay.
Marti felt the urge to pop Dr. Cora Bell Lambert. How dare she be petite and cute!
“I believe some of you know my date. Dax Cooper. Dax, this is Marti Jenkins. She owns the ranch that backs up to the Landry place. I don’t believe I know your Yankee, Marti.”
Marti forced a smile on her face, but when she turned toward Eli, the forced smile melted into a genuine one. “This is Dr. Eli Boone. He’s here covering for Hank Kelley while he does something. What is it again, Eli?”
“An advanced training experience,” he explained to the table.
Each man retook his seat once Cora Bell was seated.
“Not that I’m explaining anything to Dr. Montgomery or Ms. Montgomery,” Eli said to Lydia and Paige, the first, a physician and the second, an advanced practice nurse. “You are both aware that keeping up with medical advances is tough,”
Both women acknowledged his comment with a nod.
“I sure do,” Dr. Lydia Henson-Montgomery said “I’m doing a six-week advance training on burns later this year. How much longer will Hank be gone?”
“Just three months. The course was an intensive six-month program. When I talked to him last, he was exhausted. Said he might want to take a couple of additional weeks off at the end before he comes back.” Eli shrugged. “Fine with me if he does. Things here are flowing n
icely.”
Talk turned away from medicine and onto the weather, as safe a topic as can be and one that held the attention of all the ranchers and farmers in the area. Rubber chicken was served and consumed, along with bottles of red and white wine to help wash it down. The cheesecake held no appeal, so Marti passed it off to Eli.
“No cheesecake?” he asked with astonishment.
“I’ve eaten my horse’s weight in that stuff. I’m over it.”
Eli ate his piece and hers, and then moaned. “Shouldn’t have done that. I’ll have to add a couple of extra miles to my jog tomorrow.”
“You want to start that exercise program tonight?” Marti asked with a tilt of her head toward the dance floor. “Music’s starting.”
Eli shoved back his chair and held out a hand. “Trip the light fantastic with me?”
“Man. That’s an old one.”
“Blame my grandmother,” he said with a laugh. “She loved to dance.”
Grasping his hand, she stood. “Lead on.”
His hand was broad, and thick, and very warm. Her breath caught at the warmth of his hand. Her heart galloped across her chest. She licked her lips nervously. Luckily for her, he was leading her to the dance floor so his back was toward her, and he couldn’t see her reaction to his touch. Once on the floor, he twirled her and caught her with a hand at her waist. Holy crap.
Eli was a smooth dancer, guiding her around the floor with a polished ease that hinted at either hours of dances or formal instruction. She wasn’t sure which, maybe both. Interestingly, she wasn’t surprised at how he danced. Everything about the way he carried himself and spoke to others hinted at an exclusive—meaning wealthy—background. But if that was true, why was he here in this podunk little town? She loved Whispering Springs, but she grew up here and knew all the town’s secrets. What did her town look like through the eyes of an outsider? Not just a person from outside Whispering Springs, but from outside of Texas?
When the first slow song began, he pulled her flush to his body and she completely lost her train of thought. He wrapped his arm around her waist, settling his hot fingers against the flesh uncovered by the deep vee design of the dress’s back. Her insides melted as lust pooled low in her gut.