Intrigue Me

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Intrigue Me Page 8

by Leigh, Jo


  She nodded. Grabbed the last glazed doughnut and left the lounge.

  * * *

  AT 12:30, LISA texted Daniel while she was in the last stall in the bathroom. It was the safest place in the building, not that anyone would give a damn about her typing a text message. Lunch? The pizza place on 3rd?

  While finishing the filing, wearing gloves this time, her gut told her dinner was dangerous. Despite what had happened yesterday, they had to slow down with...whatever they were doing. Besides, he needed to understand she wasn’t going to sleep with him tonight. Maybe never again. But definitely not tonight.

  * * *

  “WOULD YOU EXCUSE me for a moment?” Daniel said. “I need to answer this.” The nurse nodded. After reading Lisa’s counteroffer, he played his next hand. Someone could see us at the pizza place. I can pick you up and get you home if we go to dinner. He put his phone away hoping she’d agree.

  No texts came while he examined his next patient. Then Daniel was off to a meeting with the financial manager of the clinic. Maybe talking about budgets would prepare him for the next round in this most interesting negotiation. He’d back down the minute she signaled he was going too far, but damn, he hoped she said yes. The restaurant he had in mind was excellent, and it was very close to his town house.

  * * *

  DANIEL STOOD UP as the host brought Lisa to the table. She’d insisted on meeting him there at 8:00, and he had to admit, seeing her like this was worth the wait. Her light blue dress was sleeveless and showed off her amazing figure. Heads turned as she passed tables of diners. He wasn’t surprised. Lisa was a stunner. That her beauty seemed effortless added to her appeal.

  He helped her to her seat, sneaking a sniff of her honey-scented hair. Wishing he could taste her lips, he sat across from her. She’d gotten comfortable, placing her small purse on the table along with her hands. “Fancy place.”

  “It’s close to home. I’ve been coming here for years. Though I haven’t been in since— Well, not for a while.” He watched her gaze sweep across the simple but elegant room, surprised at how much he wanted to impress her. “They have an excellent wine list. Though if you’d prefer a cocktail first...”

  “Wine sounds great, if you’d do the honors.”

  By the time they’d ordered and had their wine, he felt more relaxed, and he thought she was, too. “It was nice of you to agree to teach the defense class.”

  “As if I had a choice.”

  “No, I suppose you didn’t. You’ve gotten everyone all fired up. The idea is terrific. It’s a tough world for most of our patients.” He took another sip of wine. “Want to hear something weird?”

  “I don’t know,” she said. “Do I?”

  He chuckled at her suspicious frown. “I don’t think I’ve ever been this nervous on a date before.”

  She blinked. “Well, this isn’t a date.”

  Of course, she was joking, but before he could think of a witty retort, he got distracted by her neatly trimmed nails. They’d scratched his chest yesterday, and he had the marks and other mementos to prove it. Clearing his throat and the memory, he asked, “What would you call it?”

  She shrugged. “A coffee substitute.” She stopped to take a deep breath. “What happened yesterday—we can never do that again.”

  Her stern tone did something wicked to his libido. But of course she was right. They couldn’t. Having sex at the clinic was one of the stupidest things he’d ever done. And he’d done plenty over the years. “You’re absolutely right. It was completely unprofessional. We can never have sex again,” he said. “Not in the clinic.”

  Her gaze snapped back to his, her lips slightly parted and her eyes wide with disbelief. “I’m not joking.”

  “Neither am I. Don’t get me wrong. Yesterday was an astonishing surprise. With the single exception of the venue, it was also one of the best things that’s happened to me in far too long. Although quickies aren’t normally my thing.” He paused just as the waiter approached with their starters. “I like to take my time.”

  She opened her mouth but promptly closed it again. The awkward smile she gave the waiter made Daniel want to grin. He held it in check, although it wasn’t easy watching her trying to appear as if nothing at all was amiss. The soft lighting nearly hid her faint blush. She kept her hands under the table, so if she wanted to strangle him he couldn’t tell. Her eyes, though... Nothing could temper the fiery blaze aimed at him.

  Roberto set chilled pea soup in front of Daniel. “Will there be anything else, Dr. Cassidy?”

  “We’re fine for now, thank you.”

  “Enjoy,” he said with a slight bow and a glance at Lisa.

  After eating most of her scallops ceviche, giving him many quizzical looks in the time it took to finish his appetizer, she said, “You’re right. Not at the clinic.” He thought she might smile then, but she didn’t. Not unless he counted the slight upturn of her beautiful lips. Which he did.

  Daniel nodded. With those few words his mood shot through the roof. His place really was close. A short walk. An even shorter cab ride. He wondered what she’d think about having their entrées wrapped to go. His cock had a very definite opinion. He tried to ignore it. Or at least calm it down. “So where did you get your defense training?”

  She hesitated and the look in her eyes seemed to point inward, as if the question had been somehow out of line. Daniel hoped like hell she hadn’t changed her mind.

  “I used to be a cop,” she said. “In another life.”

  Now it was his turn to pause. “Really?” He let that digest. She didn’t fit his notion of what a cop should look like, but after seeing her in action, it made sense. “When was that?”

  “As I said, in another life,” she murmured, her lashes sweeping her cheeks. “It’s not something I like to talk about.”

  God, how he understood. There were certainly conversations he never wanted to have. His curiosity wasn’t going to go away anytime soon, but he wasn’t about to push. “The first time I came to this restaurant, I was seven, I think. It had just opened. My dad ordered oysters on the half shell, so naturally, I did, too, although I only had the vaguest idea what they were.”

  “Oh, no,” she said.

  “To say the least.” Their dishes were collected, more wine was poured, but he barely noticed anything that wasn’t Lisa.

  “I waited until I saw how he prepared the horrible things with a shake of hot sauce and a squirt of lemon. He carefully loosened the slimy beasts with his spoon, then leaned back and boom, down the hatch.”

  “Did you...?”

  “Of course I did. I wasn’t about to let him or my brother think I was a chicken. It was the worst idea, and I was sick later that night, but I finished all six. I’ve never eaten oysters again.”

  “I don’t blame you. You were only seven. Why didn’t your dad stop you?”

  He shrugged. “I suppose it was some kind of lesson, but I will never do that to my kids. Anyway, your turn.”

  She started a tale of getting mixed up in her big brother’s treasure-hunting adventure and how that had led to his ultimate career.

  Daniel was still floating through the evening. He was with the most beautiful woman in Manhattan, who also was easy to talk to, laughed in all the right places and told a great story.

  Time flew. He barely remembered eating his entrée. All he could think about was how much he’d needed this. Needed someone like Lisa to remind him life still had joy in it.

  Too soon their dinner was almost over, and so was the bottle of wine. Maybe that was why he said, “I used to think I knew what I wanted. I’m not sure anymore.”

  Lisa’s hand paused with her drink halfway to her mouth. She blinked several times. He looked away, wishing he’d never said that. He’d put her in an awkward position. They barely knew each other
and she’d ducked out of saying anything too personal to him.

  “I don’t know. Zombie hunting is a burgeoning field. I see those documentaries all the time. Like Supernatural and True Blood. I think you’d do really well.”

  He laughed, thankful as hell she’d saved the conversation. He’d like to blame the wine for his loose tongue, but... No. He definitely blamed the wine.

  * * *

  LISA APPRECIATED THE owner and chef of the restaurant coming over to speak to Daniel, but she still resented the intrusion. This coffee substitute was turning out to be the best. She’d never seen Daniel more relaxed. It looked good on him.

  Chef Earnhardt was all smiles as he paid particular attention to Lisa. “Enjoying your meal?”

  “Very much,” she said. “Everything’s been outstanding. Thank you.”

  “My pleasure.” The chef turned to Daniel. “And you. My friend. I was so sorry to hear about your father. He was a brilliant and unique man. I’ll miss him.”

  “Thank you, Terrance,” Daniel replied in his Dr. Cassidy voice.

  “I imagine it helps that you’re working with Warren at the Center. Family is so important.”

  Lisa stiffened. She knew this was a hot-button issue for Daniel. He wasn’t working there for a reason. What that was, she had no idea, but his hand had left hers as quickly as Daniel had left her standing in the lounge the day they’d met.

  “Family,” he said with a broken smile. “Family is important.”

  Earnhardt took a step back. “If I may be so bold,” he said to Lisa alone, “I would like to bring you a dessert. Something off the menu.”

  “I’d love that,” she said in between quick glances at Daniel. “Thank you.”

  The chef went back to his kitchen, but he’d left an air of embarrassment and sadness behind. Maybe if she understood why Daniel had been triggered she could say something that would help. “Are you okay?”

  He nodded, even though he wasn’t. He barely looked at her. Although he’d seemed utterly lost while the chef had spoken to her, he now looked angry. He clenched his jaw, relaxed and then did it again. Lisa was sorry she’d agreed to the dessert. Daniel wanted to leave; she could see it in his face.

  “My father died three months ago,” he stated, as if for the record. “It was a shock. He was a neurologist. Brilliant as advertised. He’s why I became a neurologist.”

  “I heard from one of the nurses that your specialty is needed quite often at the clinic.”

  He gave her a crooked grin and seemed to relax a little at her attempt to change the subject. “My brother, Warren, works at the Madison Avenue Neurological Center. I’ll be working there, too, at some point.”

  “That’ll be quite a change from Moss Street.”

  “It will,” he said and downed the rest of his wine.

  Dessert arrived, a light concoction that tasted like honey and spring. She offered some to Daniel, but he told her to eat up. She only finished it not to be rude. He did smile a lot as she ate, but the mood had shifted.

  Dinner ended on a melancholy note when he walked her to a taxi. She hadn’t even tried to argue that she could catch the subway home. “I’m sorry,” he said, after paying the driver. “It’s something I don’t like to talk about.”

  “No need to apologize. I really get it. More than most people, I imagine,” she said and met his eyes. “I’m still glad we did this. It was a lot better than coffee.”

  “I’ll see you...?”

  She started to shrug. The look on his face stopped her.

  She knew that look. It came from drowning without any water nearby. It was feeling sick at the thought of being alone. A look that she wouldn’t wish on anyone. Yet she couldn’t see how to offer help or comfort. Not without getting pulled in too deep herself.

  She cleared her throat. “I’ll probably be at the clinic in the next day or so.”

  “I’ll see you then.” He hesitated, staring into her eyes for a long moment, and then opened the cab door.

  After sliding in, she looked at him. “Don’t you want to ride?”

  He shook his head. “I’m two blocks away. The walk will do me good.”

  She smiled and nodded. As soon as the driver pulled away, she looked back at Daniel. He just stood there, his hands in his pockets.

  Lisa wished she’d at least kissed him.

  8

  DANIEL HAD PUT her in a cab an hour ago. But he wasn’t tired. He thought about going for a walk. Exhausting himself. He sure as hell shouldn’t have another drink.

  The night had started out so well. Why had he let her go? He’d seen the possibility for more in Lisa’s eyes. They could have been naked by now. Or not. Maybe they would have just talked.

  The way they’d left things was certainly open for interpretation. Aside from his mood swing, he was certain that sex was the thing they both agreed on.

  Damn it, he really hated that he’d let her see him like that. Terrance was only an acquaintance, for God’s sake. Why the hell was an acquaintance invested in him going to the Center? It was bad enough with Warren calling and Eve giving him lectures. Now he had to be careful where he ate?

  He got up, anxious, fidgety. Practically did a whole tour of the brownstone. It was clean as a whistle. Nothing out of place. He’d had a pleasant relationship as a child with Uncle Frank. He’d been a plane fanatic. Who wouldn’t have liked that? That had been it, though. But Uncle Frank had still left the brownstone to him. Because Warren was the oldest. He got the family home.

  Daniel had inherited the place four years ago, moved in after he returned from his residency at Johns Hopkins, but he hadn’t done much to make it his own. Instead he’d jumped into his fellowship at Mount Sinai. He’d managed to buy a new bed, but mostly, Daniel had ignored everything else.

  The last woman he’d had in here had told him how iconic it was. What she meant was old-fashioned. Daniel didn’t care. His home didn’t have to be a showcase or even an extension of himself. Another way he was unlike his father and Warren.

  Damn it, he should have selected a restaurant he’d never been to before. Daniel stood at the wet bar. Between the bottles he could see broken snips of his face on the mirror back. The man staring at him looked drawn and tired, certainly too tired to make any decisions. If he had another drink he was going to call Lisa, and that was the one thing he shouldn’t do.

  He left the bar without a drink, still feeling restless. He ran his fingers over the unread hardbound volumes on his shelves. Another of the hundred things he’d meant to do and hadn’t.

  Like go to Dad’s place. Warren’s place. That sounded wrong, and if he saw any of Warren’s things...

  “For God’s sake,” he mumbled, pulling his cell phone out of his pocket. “Grow a pair.” He went to the big window facing the park. It was beautiful out there now.

  Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath. This wasn’t like him. He wasn’t a procrastinator.

  His father used to tell people his youngest was born a neurologist. Daniel had been so proud he’d studied his ass off to graduate with honors in medical school. All during his residency. Jesus. He’d barely looked up. But he’d been happy. Pursuing the one thing he’d always wanted.

  Until he’d finished his fellowship. Damn, he wished he’d never had that dinner with his father. But then, maybe his unease had started earlier; he didn’t know anymore. Though he’d never minded that his father’s career was the most important thing in his life.

  Frankly, Daniel hadn’t known anything else. Dad was a brilliant man. But he lived and breathed medicine and the Center he’d founded. Nothing could compete with the high he got from his work.
Not his wife, not mistresses, not his children.

  He had one son who was faithfully following in his footsteps. No life outside of medicine. Obsessed with image and accolades. The son who hadn’t been born a neurologist.

  Given how their father had clearly favored his youngest son, it seemed odd that Warren had still modeled his life after Dad. Daniel had no idea if Warren used conferences to meet women like their father had.

  Daniel had finally seen all those things, but they hadn’t mattered. Because he’d believed his father was truly devoted to medicine. And not his own ego. His family—except for bragging purposes—and everything else in life were insignificant.

  Was it any wonder Daniel wanted to think it through? To stop and examine his life? Yes, he loved the work, but that wasn’t all he wanted. He wanted to be married, and he wanted a wife, not a trophy.

  Honestly, Warren wasn’t the problem. He was often a prick, but he wasn’t the one at fault. If anything, Daniel had kept his distance because he’d felt bad for him. But it was time to move forward. He hit speed dial. His chest tightened as he listened to the phone ring. It went to voice mail.

  He opened his mouth to leave a message, but he had no idea what to say. Not one thought. He’d try again tomorrow.

  He stared at his cell. He had her number. But it was 11:30. They weren’t at the late-night-call stage. Screw it. He hit speed dial.

  She answered right away.

  “Did I wake you?” he asked.

  “No.” She hesitated. “I’m sitting in a cab outside your place.”

  * * *

  SHE WAS OUTSIDE? Jesus. His heart rate spiked. Daniel pulled the door open and met her on the porch. The second they were inside, Lisa was in his arms. Touching her, stroking her back, the curve of her waist, the lush bottom cheeks he could cover with both hands. This was what he’d wanted but hadn’t been able to ask.

 

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