by Janice Lynn
“I don’t like crowds.” Were those the first words she’d ever actually formed around him without stuttering, grunting or mumbling? Finally, coherency.
“I noticed.”
She smiled despite the nervousness still chipping away at her resolve. “Now, if only this party were over.”
“Over?” He glanced around at the smiling, laughing people and shook his head. “Why would we want the party over when the night is so young?”
“I don’t like crowds, remember?” She crinkled her nose and frowned up at him. Goodness, the man was tall. Probably about six-four. Maybe everything that came from Texas was big.
He grinned down at her, then tweaked her nose with the tip of his finger. “I tell ya what, darlin’, you just relax. Have some fun. I’ll handle the crowd.”
She glanced around at the people making their way into the room that had been decked out for the celebration. “But surely you have someone with you? You always have someone with you.”
“You’re right. I do.” He winked then leaned close to her ear. “Tonight that someone is you, Eleanor. My friends call me Ty, by the way, and you and I are definitely going to be friendly.”
CHAPTER THREE
ELEANOR LAUGHED OUT LOUD for what seemed like the hundredth time that evening. Honestly, she couldn’t recall the last time she’d laughed so much.
Had she ever?
“You are very pretty when you laugh, Eleanor.”
Now, there was a comment worth laughing at.
“Because you keep saying funny things,” she told Tyler, not quite meeting his eyes. He’d complimented her repeatedly during the evening. Good thing she knew his reputation, that he was an incurable flirt.
With a grin that was way too intoxicating, he touched her face. “I want you to laugh at what I say, but only when I’m saying something worth laughing at. I was serious. You are a very beautiful woman, Eleanor.”
Despite the fact that she was sure he didn’t mean her to laugh, she couldn’t suppress the nervous little giggle that spilled from her lips. “Yeah, well, th-thank you.”
Because, really, what else could she say?
“Tell me about that,” he urged in a slow drawl.
She bit her lower lip, hoping he wasn’t asking what she thought he was asking.
“Your stutter.”
Face flaming, she shook her head. “Nothing funny about my stuttering so let’s not talk about it.”
“Have you always stuttered?” he asked, as if she hadn’t just spoken.
“Perhaps you didn’t hear what I just said. I don’t want to talk about me.”
“But I do. You fascinate me.”
Had he been drinking? The hospital wasn’t serving anything alcoholic, but perhaps someone had spiked the punch.
“When I was younger, I—I stuttered all the time. These days it usually only h-happens when I’m in a stressful sit-situation.”
He studied her a moment. “Am I a stressful situation?”
“Men are always stressful,” she answered flippantly, because she didn’t want to label anything at all about the way Tyler made her feel. Not the way he’d made her feel before tonight and especially not the way he was making her feel at that very moment.
He leaned his long frame against the hospital wall they stood near, crossed his arms and regarded her. “Ya know, I just realized that during the entire time I’ve been at Angel’s I’ve never heard a thing about you and a man, Eleanor. Is there someone special in your life?”
Had the room suddenly grown hot? Her skin had certainly grown clammy.
“Not at the moment.”
“Lucky me.”
Not sure what to say, Eleanor glanced around the lobby that had been converted into a reception area for tonight’s gathering. The crowd had started to thin and most of the press had left.
“I should probably quit monopolizing your company,” she said, realizing that he hadn’t left her side the entire evening.
“Please don’t, darlin’.”
She glanced up at him.
“I want you monopolizing my … company.”
Her breath caught. He was flirting with her. Really flirting. If she’d had any doubts earlier, now she didn’t.
The only problem was that Tyler Donaldson flirting with her was way out of her league. As in she wouldn’t know how to flirt back if her life depended on it.
So she just smiled and took a sip of her punch.
He had the audacity to laugh, causing her gaze to return to him. When their eyes met, she found herself laughing back.
She wasn’t sure exactly what they were laughing at, but a giddy happiness flowed through her, along with a shared connection with Dr. Tyler Donaldson that was both unexpected, a bit magical and so exciting she could barely breathe.
“Who’s the hunk?”
Totally lost as to what Brooke meant, Eleanor glared at her sister across the Aston penthouse’s breakfast table. Brooke’s face was masked by a thick layer of medicated cream.
Eleanor had gotten up that morning determined to accomplish one thing. To kill her sister.
Not literally.
Maybe.
But seriously, Brooke had gone too far this time. Even though the night had turned out nothing short of wonderful thanks to Ty, that didn’t mean Brooke wasn’t going to get an earful.
“Don’t try changing the subject,” she warned, tapping her finger against the glass tabletop covering the rich mahogany. “You broke into a hospital doctors’ lounge and stole my clothes.”
“I,” her sister put great emphasis on the pronoun, “didn’t do anything. And don’t change the subject.” Brooke’s head bobbed with attitude, which should have come across as ridiculous, with her platinum hair tied up and flying every which way, thick white cream covering her still-swollen face and her body wrapped in a fuzzy pink terry-cloth robe, but which somehow didn’t look ridiculous at all.
Even while suffering from an allergic reaction, her sister managed to pull off cool.
Brooke slid that morning’s paper across the breakfast table. “Who is he and where can I get one? He’s yummy. Introduce me.”
“What are you talking about?” But even as Eleanor finished asking she saw exactly what her sister referred to.
More like who her sister referred to.
Oh, no.
Oh, yes.
A photo of Eleanor and Ty was splashed across the top of the society section of one of New York’s top newspapers.
Not just any photo but one that appeared to have been edited because she knew they hadn’t really been looking at each other in that manner.
Okay, so she might have been looking at Ty that way because, let’s face it, he was hot and friendly.
“Although,” Brooke mused, frowning, “he’s looking at you as if he’s about to sweep you off your feet and find the closest place to get you alone. Who is he?”
In the picture, he was looking at her as if he thought her the sweetest thing since chocolate syrup and he’d like to cover her in that syrup and lick her clean.
Wow. No wonder Brooke wanted to know who he was. But, no, her sister couldn’t have him. Not Ty. Which was a crazy thought because if her sister wanted Ty, she’d have him. Brooke always got what she wanted. Especially when it came to men.
“It’s a trick of the camera.” Perhaps it really was. Although, recalling how wonderful Ty had made her feel, perhaps it wasn’t. The man knew how to make a woman feel as if she were the only woman in the world. No wonder all the female staff at Angel’s adored him.
“Huh?” Brooke’s collagen-enhanced lips pouted. “He isn’t really that scrumptious?”
“He is, but …” She trailed off, her stomach sinking. She’d meant that he hadn’t really been looking at her as if he found her irresistible. Maybe he really wasn’t, but he had helped her get through what had started as a horrible evening but, because of him, had ended almost feeling enchanted.
She glanced at the photo again. She was
looking into Ty’s face as if she found him enchanting. Although you couldn’t see his hand, she knew that his palm had rested low on her back, that his thumb had traced lazy patterns over the smooth material of the red dress. That his hand had been somewhere on her body at most points during the evening. Her lower back, her arm, her hand, her face. He’d touched her almost incessantly.
Almost possessively.
He’d felt sorry for her and his Southern good manners had demanded he rescue her. That had to be it, right?
“I couldn’t be more pleased.”
Both girls spun as their father entered the room.
Entered? Ha. More like invaded the room. Because when Senator Cole Aston entered a room even imaginary dust took cover. A trail of servants followed, all scurrying to serve the great man his breakfast and to meet any need he might have before he could even voice his desire.
“Morning, Daddy,” Brooke cooed, blowing an air kiss in his direction as she popped a bite of melon into her mouth.
Glamour girl Brooke had always been their father’s favorite. Eleanor couldn’t blame him. Although the “it” party girl, Brooke never went so far as to cause their father to do more than shake his head with an indulgent smile. Her, on the other hand, he just didn’t understand. Why would she want to work so hard getting her medical degree when her financial security wasn’t an issue? Why work such long hours at a free hospital that she collapsed exhausted into sleep night after night when she could live a life of leisure, travel at whim as her mother and sister did?
She knew she was a disappointment and had been for most of her life. She’d been the pudgy, geeky, plain-Jane misfit who’d had to stand next to her handsome, intimidating father, her elegant, classically beautiful mother and her glamorous, much-loved and ever-popular, beauty-queen sister.
Yeah, she was pretty sure she’d been swapped at birth.
There was some dull, plain, geeky family out there scratching their heads at how they’d ended up with a beauty-queen daughter who thrived on the limelight.
“I didn’t realize you were back,” Eleanor ventured. He’d been in Washington, D.C., in meetings all week, which was why he hadn’t been able to attend the ribbon-cutting himself.
“Daddy, aren’t you going to say good morning?” Brooke pouted, tucking her leg beneath her in her chair and turning more fully toward him.
For once, the senator ignored Brooke and smiled—or as close as he got when a camera wasn’t present—at Eleanor. “I flew in late last night. You’ll bring him to my campaign fund-raiser next week, of course.”
Him? Then she noticed what he carried. A copy of the same newspaper Brooke had shoved at her. The one with the picture of her and Ty. Her father was happy about that? Really? Then again, he was probably just amazed that some man had paid attention to his elder daughter.
“He’s just a friend. Not even that, really. More of an acquaintance.” At the arch of his salt-and-pepper brow, Eleanor rushed on. “We work together at the hospital. He’s nobody, really.”
“He’s somebody all right, and I want him with you at the fund-raiser.”
Eleanor’s gaze met her sister’s. A still-pouting Brooke shrugged, obviously not having a clue what their father was talking about either.
“His family owns about half the state of Texas. If I ever throw my hat in to run for president, he’ll be our ace in the hole.”
She didn’t know which shocked her more. That her father already had her paired off with Ty, that Ty was wealthy or that her father thought he might someday run for president.
That he’d plan her life choices around what best garnered votes didn’t shock her in the slightest. She’d dealt with that her entire life.
“How do you know anything about Dr. Donaldson?” she asked slowly, knowing she wasn’t going to like his answer.
Her father’s gaze narrowed slightly at her calling Ty by his proper name. “I figured the son of a gun was just after your inheritance so I called my attorney first thing this morning and had a background check run.”
Because her father hadn’t believed any man would want her for herself, only for her cut of the Aston fortune. Great. Had he ever had any of Brooke’s many beaus checked out?
Probably not, since her sister never seemed interested in the same man for more than a week or two. Then again, perhaps the senator did have each one thoroughly investigated and perhaps that’s why none of them lasted more than a week—because they weren’t worthy of his precious baby girl.
“He checked out,” her father announced, sounding somewhere between smug and surprised.
“You’ve already gotten a report on his whole life history? Wow. That was fast work.” Head spinning, she took a deep breath. “Well, you wasted your time and money, because Dr. Donaldson is a colleague from work.” Sure, they’d had a great time the night before, but it wasn’t as if she expected him to actually call and ask her out. They were friends. Sort of. “Nothing more.”
Not liking being ignored, Brooke tapped the newspaper picture again. “This doesn’t look like just work.”
Her father smiled in that way that didn’t convey happiness, just arrogance that he was right and that he would get his way because he was Senator Cole Aston. “I should have known you’d be contrary.”
Shocked at his comment, Eleanor stared at her father. Because she was known for her contrariness? Hardly, unless he counted her going to university, getting a medical degree and actually working for a living. If he counted that then, yes, she was quite the contrary child.
“No matter.” He waved his hand dismissively then took a sip of his black coffee. “I’ve already taken matters into my own hands.”
That didn’t surprise her in the slightest. However, the implications of his comment terrified her.
“What do you mean, you’ve taken matters into your own hands?”
“I sent the car for Dr. Donaldson. He should be arriving …” he glanced at the slim gold watch on his wrist “… any moment.”
Brooke squealed, her eyes widening. She jumped to her feet. “Daddy! You can’t invite people here when my face is all messed up.”
The senator ignored his younger daughter, his gaze instead boring into Eleanor. “Perhaps you’d like to go freshen up before he arrives?”
Heat rose to the tips of Eleanor’s ears. Her father had sent the car for Ty? How had her father even known she’d be here? Had he cared? If her father said that he would be arriving any moment, that meant Ty had gone along with her father’s request. Then again, Cole might not have requested anything. He’d probably demanded that Ty come.
Great.
She’d thought she was going to die of total mortification last night, but perhaps that honor had been saved for this morning.
Ty had ridden in a limo a few times during his life, but none of the luxurious caliber of Senator Cole Aston’s. Although he definitely preferred Ole Bess, his affectionate nickname for the Ford pickup he’d driven since first getting his license, he couldn’t deny that he’d been impressed.
But, then, he was pretty sure that had been Senator Aston’s intention.
That and to perhaps intimidate him.
Not that Ty was easily intimidated. Only his own father seemed capable of achieving that.
Obviously, Eleanor’s old man had seen the picture of his daughter with him and wanted to know his intentions.
He had no intentions.
Not toward Eleanor. Not really.
Yeah, she’d piqued his interest last night and once she’d gotten over her shyness she’d been funny and intelligent.
He’d enjoyed the evening more than he would have believed possible.
He’d found her incredibly intriguing and, yes, he’d admit it, he found her sexy as hell.
But that didn’t mean he had any intention of seeing Eleanor outside the hospital. Something told him she wouldn’t be a love-’em-and-leave-’em-smiling kind of experience.
He didn’t do any other. Which meant he should sta
y away from the good doctor. Which was why he hadn’t made any move on her at the end of the evening, despite the fact that he’d wanted to kiss her repeatedly. Hell, he’d wanted to do a lot more than kiss her.
But he’d settled for a goodbye hug and he’d gone home alone.
The senator had nothing to worry about.
The elevator ride to the penthouse of one of Manhattan’s most prestigious apartment complexes overlooking Central Park was an experience in and of itself. Ty had to smile at the seat along one wall and wondered if he was wicked for thinking of all the fun ways that seat could be used by him and …
He stopped, realizing that rather than some random hot babe popping into his head, the woman making use of that seat with him was Eleanor.
Which shocked him. Hadn’t he just reminded himself that she wasn’t his type?
Senator Cole Aston’s daughter.
How had Eleanor ended up shy, sweet, compassionate and hardworking when she’d grown up in the lap of such luxury?
Then again, thinking about what he knew of Cole Aston, perhaps Eleanor’s childhood had been more hellish than his own.
Which wasn’t exactly fair, because his childhood hadn’t been bad. Not really. It hadn’t been until he’d gotten older, known his life was going in a different direction than his family envisioned that the problems had started with his father. The rest of his family was … things he wasn’t going to think about. Not right now when he was about to get his butt chewed for latching on to Eleanor the night before.
The Aston penthouse suite was something straight out of a magazine on luxury living. The fancy living quarters probably had been featured in a magazine. Several of them. Ty almost felt as if he should take his shoes off before stepping onto the shiny hardwood floors.
Following a well-dressed woman who’d introduced herself as the head housekeeper, he entered a large room containing a long mahogany table, with Senator Aston sitting at the head and Eleanor to his right. Fresh flowers adorned the elaborately set table.
The bright red splash of color that infused Eleanor’s cheeks and the quick way she averted her gaze told him she hadn’t been behind his summons.