Dance With Destiny

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Dance With Destiny Page 13

by Louise Crawford Ramona Butler


  Before Destiny could establish Cole’s location, an elegant looking gent with silver hair asked her to dance – then talked about his legal practice the whole time, drowning out the music. Only half-listening as he talked, she nodded when it seemed appropriate – and longed for Cole.

  As if conjured up by a shaman's magic, he suddenly cut in. He pulled her close and led her deftly around the floor, no false steps, no mashed toes, his blue eyes intense, burning into hers. His hand at her waist felt as though it was melting Fran’s “Coming-out” dress. Destiny's legs wobbled.

  Cole’s grip tightened, but he said nothing. Neither did she. And just when she thought her heart might explode, the music ended.

  He held her a moment longer, then dropped his hands. With a curt nod he walked away. But the feel of his heated palms lingered.

  *****

  Cole felt like kicking himself as he made his way from the dance floor to stand at the bar. He'd vowed he wouldn't approach her, wouldn’t talk to her. But the moment he saw her dancing with someone else, he'd cut in.

  His fingers clenched at the thought of another man touching her. Did the woman have any idea how provocative her darn gown was! Sylvia – certainly no innocent – looked like an angel compared to Destiny in that body-hugging, tantalizing red sheath. He'd never miss her in a crowd, his traitorous mind retorted. As if his hormones hadn't already noted that fact! She was turning every head in the place, including his.

  His blood heated just watching her glide slowly from the dance floor – every curve, every muscle showcased in crimson. Web swaggered over to her and took her arm. Cole's blood turned volcanic. When she smiled at something the rascal said, Cole thought he might just have to punch his best friend in the nose.

  Some friend, moving in on his woman.

  But that was the problem. She wasn't his woman. And she'd let him know it.

  "You've been staring at Destiny for the last five minutes," Sylvia whined.

  He forced himself to look at his pink-bedecked friend, to smile at her. "I didn't expect her to be here. Web said residents don't usually attend..."

  Destiny would be staff in two months, how was the Klutz King going to handle that? He shifted uncomfortably, accepted his only drink of the evening and watched as dancers flooded the floor for a slow waltz. Sylvia squeezed his hand. “Come on. Let’s dance.”

  He wanted to say no, wanted to leave, but he set down his drink, forced a smile, and whisked Sylvia into the throng. Three steps later, Web swept by with Destiny in his arms. Just as Cole thought he’d strangle his friend, the man released Destiny, grabbed Sylvia and whirled her away with a laugh.

  Destiny froze, a look of panic on her face.

  Feet rooted to the floor, pulse racing like a madman’s, Cole drank in her beauty. A long moment passed. Well, she hadn’t run yet. Without a word, he drew her into his arms and led her in the waltz, all to aware of closeness. By the time the music faded, he was struggling to breathe.

  She stepped back and he knew he had to say something. “She never looked like you do tonight.”

  They both knew he referred to Lanni.

  Then, because he’d promised himself he wouldn’t beg, he turned away and took the hardest walk he’d ever taken – away from her. He hoped she’d come after him. When she didn’t, he wondered if he should look for a position at another hospital. Lord knew, he was bound to keep running into Destiny if he stayed. If she started dating someone else, he just might rip the man’s head off and end up in jail.

  Dispirited, he looked for Sylvia to remind her, "You up to bidding for my hide?"

  "Of course." She patted her satin purse. "You didn't have to, but thanks for giving me the wad to back up my bidding. I was secretly planning to hock hearth and home and my first grade child for a weekend in your capable care."

  He cocked an eyebrow, uncertain whether she was serious.

  She laughed. “Oh, don’t look so worried. I’m only joshing.”

  Something like relief flooded through him.

  “Fair warning, though, if I can persuade you to take me on your planned weekend soiree, I will.”

  Her admiring glance flattered him.

  The sound system crackled to life. "Ladies and Gentlemen, the auction will begin in fifteen minutes! Credit cards, checks, or fresh green cash are all acceptable.

  From across the room, he heard Web’s raucous, “Let the games begin!”

  “My sentiments exactly!” Sylvia shouted, matching his enthusiasm.

  Web and Sylvia? Darned unnerving idea.

  “Ladies...” the announcer began. “If you are the lucky winner of one of our fine bachelors, please be sure you pay for your date before you leave. Remember, this is for the hospital! Every cent goes to the new pediatric wing. Be generous!"

  Cole's stomach did a barrel roll. He'd never done this before and he wished to hell he'd bypassed the event this year, as well. He turned to Sylvia. "Remember,” he said, trying to impress upon her the importance of what he was saying, “bid whatever it takes, up to a thousand. If somebody wants my company for more than that, they can have it. But I’m counting on you to keep that from happening, so sound unstoppable when you bid."

  “I’ll do my best, believe me.”

  She sounded determined...so why did he have the feeling this was going to be another one of those disasters.

  "Well, time for me to go backstage," he grumbled and trudged across the room, feeling as though his head were about to be put on the chopping block. His head, or something equally indispensable!

  A tap on the shoulder. "Hey, buddy, you ready?" Wily Web.

  "I thought you said Destiny wouldn't be here," Cole snarled.

  Web shrugged. "Most times, residents have to work when everyone else is at the auction. But she had tonight off – and she's going to be staff in two months."

  "I'm well aware of that fact," he ground out, stalking away in the direction of an official looking matron handing out auction numbers. He glared back at his friend. "And don't think I don't know who puts the work schedule together."

  Web, looking unperturbed, winked at the number person.

  Cole gave the number woman his name and waited while she checked her list. If the gods were smiling on him, his name wasn’t on it.

  “Number five,” she said, smiling appreciatively as she handed Cole a twelve-inch number and a pin. "It goes on your left lapel."

  "I thought I was number two."

  "On my list," Web said. "Not this lovely lady's."

  She had the gall to smile at that jackal.

  Web winked at her, before leading Cole to where the bachelors were gathering behind the stage.

  Within minutes the auctioneer began. "All right, Ladies! Here's our first eager bachelor."

  Cole saw Morillo, one of the youngest men on staff, leap up on the ramp. A real stud, if one could believe hospital gossip. The dude strutted and postured like he was having the time of his life.

  Cole nailed Web with a murderous look. "Oh, swell! You didn't tell me I'd have to act like a darn donkey."

  The scoundrel just grinned.

  It'll be over soon, Cole told himself. He'd given Sylvia enough cash to make a decent bid – considered it a donation toward the new wing. As soon as she'd "bought" him, he could leave. Neat, easy, no problem.

  Bachelor number two stepped onto the stage, did a quick dance step that had him shaking his behind like a wet dog, giving the crowd a good show. Cole groaned. The auctioneer picked up his gavel. "All right now, remember it's for a good cause, so don't hold back. Arthur Murray here says he won't hold anything back either... whatever that means."

  The crowd roared.

  Cole cursed and stared up at the ceiling, trying to pretend he wasn't part of this high-priced meat market. He managed to avoid seeing what kind of exhibition the next two bachelors put on. But he could tell the crowd was getting into the spirit of the event, could almost hear their purse strings surrendering.

  When the first four bac
helors had been disposed of, the man with the gavel banged it for silence. "Our next bachelor is new to this arena. He's never participated in our little funfest here. So the high bidder has the opportunity to break him in right, so to speak. Teach him the ropes."

  Cole felt like crawling under the nearest spittoon. Hell, the man was selling him like a virgin on the slave block.

  "Here he is, heart surgeon extraordinaire. Known as Doc Holliday for his quick hands, so watch out. I give you, Dr. Colorado Jackson."

  His face burned as he walked onstage, found the x-mark with his feet. He'd cut off his arm before he'd do anything more than stand there.

  The crowd went wild, women whistled, and the bids rocketed from one hundred to five hundred in sixty seconds.

  By God, he should have given Sylvia two thousand.

  He began to sweat. He cast a worried gaze toward Sylvia as she waved her hand, signaling six hundred.

  "Do I hear seven?" the auctioneer trilled. "Going once..."

  Another hand shot up. Cole's heart slammed against his ribs. Destiny!

  He cursed. He'd told Sylvia to go all the way to a thousand.

  When co-conspirator Sylvia signaled again, Cole wanted to break her arm.

  "Eight hundred to the lovely redhead!" the gavel man shouted.

  Cole stared in disbelief as Destiny raised her hand – again.

  The auctioneer nodded acknowledgement. "Nine hundred to the woman in red."

  The crowd let out a roar, loving every minute of the bidding duel. Sylvia waved her hand furiously. "One thousand dollars," she shouted.

  Cole swore under his breath.

  "Fifteen hundred!" Destiny yelled, and Cole almost passed out.

  Grinning, the auctioneer, one of the hospital's lab technicians who moonlighted working small auctions throughout the area, took out a bandana and mopped his brow, a gambit to heighten the suspense.

  He looked at Sylvia.

  She made a face, then shook her head.

  The gavel banged. "Sold! Dr. Jackson goes to the lovely lady in scarlet!"

  Applause erupted. Cole leaped from the stage. Like the Red Sea, the crowd parted to let him through. Moments later they’d forgotten him and turned their attention to the next bachelor onstage.

  In the middle of the ballroom, Destiny stood stock still, frozen in place, looking as though she couldn't believe what she'd done. Maybe she couldn't. But if that wasn't a loud and clear "I want you!" then nothing was.

  The air snapped with electricity as, without a word, he took her arm and guided her to a deserted corner. His gaze slid over her. By heaven, he wanted her more than he wanted any woman in his entire life. "Fifteen hundred," he murmured, astonished.

  She shook her head as though waking from a dream. "I can't believe I did that."

  "I can."

  She arched an eyebrow. "Oh, you can?"

  "You couldn't stand the thought of me with another woman any more than I could stand seeing you waltz out of here with some other guy."

  Her mouth tightened, but she didn't deny it.

  He brushed his lips against hers. With a supreme effort, he pulled back, swallowing hard. The auctioneer's voice filtered into his brain, "Our next bachelor is Dr. Web Baker!"

  The bidding exploded, an excited screaming match between several women.

  Cole focused on Destiny. "I'll take you home. We'll talk. I swear that's all..." It would kill him to keep that vow. But he would – if that's what she wanted.

  She opened her mouth to speak, but suddenly, the auctioneer's words penetrated his brain. "Unless I hear more, Dr. Baker goes to the ravishing redhead in pink! Going once..."

  Cole snapped his head up. Sylvia was spending his money on Web Baker! He'd be darned if he'd let her use it on that blasted busybody.

  He waved furiously to catch her attention.

  "Well, this is a surprise!" the auctioneer squawked. "One thousand twenty-five to... uh, Dr. Jackson!"

  Cole's face flamed and the crowd thundered with laughter.

  "One-fifty!" shouted Sylvia.

  The gavel pounded.

  "Those two scalawags deserve one another,” Cole muttered, and immediately dismissed them both from his thoughts as he turned back to–

  Destiny was gone!

  Darn, double darn, and triple darn!

  He raced for the door and down the stairs three at a time, oblivious to hoots of laughter that at any other time would have mortified him. Outside the hotel, he scanned the late night throng, the busy parking lot, the street, the crowded sidewalk. She was nowhere to be seen.

  In that dress, how the hell had she managed to disappear?

  And what in blazes was he going to do now?

  Behind him, Fran called from the hotel entrance, her tone teasing, "You sure know how to stick your foot in your mouth, Cole!"

  That was for darned sure. Distressed by Destiny’s vanishing act, he turned back toward the caftan-garbed GYN, wondering how he was going to live this debacle down. Sylvia and Web were with Fran, all laughing. His expense, of course.

  "Did you see Destiny come outside?" he blurted.

  They shook their heads no. "She'll turn up,” Fran said. “She's probably hiding in the Ladies Room again."

  Web nudged him, his face flushed with amusement. "Man, you had me worried there, good buddy. I thought I was in for the worst date of my life!" He slipped his arm through Sylvia's. "Lucky for me this beautiful creature wouldn't be outbid."

  Sylvia chuckled, a rich throaty sound. Cindy's mom was obviously smitten by Web's good looks and dastardly charm. The strange thing was, Wily Web looked just as dazzled. The old scalawag couldn't keep his eyes off her.

  "I'm escorting this little lady home, if you don't mind, Cole?"

  Cole shrugged, befuddled by the strange twists the evening had taken. "No... have fun.”

  Could he have missed Destiny on his way out? Was she, as Fran had suggested, hiding in the Ladies Room? He had a good mind to storm the stalls and–

  "I'm going back in there and get me a hunk before they're all gone,” Fran announced, making a show of turning back to the hotel entrance. “See ya."

  Cole watched her depart. Everyone was having a good time except him. As the adrenaline drained away, he admitted to Web, "You know, for a while there, I thought you and Destiny..."

  Web's eyebrows rose. "She's only got eyes for you, Bud. And I play second fiddle to no man." He winked. "Although I did give it a try. But I'm glad Destiny resisted." His gaze shifted to Sylvia. "Or I wouldn't have met this gracious lady."

  Cole smirked. His old pal was going to have his hands full. That pink dress probably had the man fooled into thinking Sylvia a pussy cat.

  Web gave him a measuring look. "You going to let the prettiest Paiute maiden this side of the movies get away or what?"

  Cole shook his head.

  "Good. I don't think hospital morale can take much more of crabby doctors. Everyone wants a happy ending for you two, and I promised to deliver."

  "Yeah, and how much is the bet?"

  "Two hundred for the happy ending, two hundred against. An even bet. Everyone knows how stubborn and determined Destiny can be. And your history of disastrous dates hasn't earned you any points. Still, all the nurses say you're a romantic at heart."

  Sylvia smiled like a well-creamed cat. "Believe me, he is."

  "Speaking of romance..." Grinning, Web gestured toward his Mercedes. "My chariot awaits."

  As Web and Sylvia drove away, Cole couldn't help thinking they made the perfect pair. He stood there smiling after them in spite of his own heartache.

  After going inside and searching everywhere for Destiny, he finally admitted defeat and drove home wondering how the hell he was going to win Destiny's heart. Words had failed him the last time, and so had everything else. Whatever she needed to convince her he loved her – her, not Lanni – he hadn't figured out yet.

  Perhaps he should look up brother Jake, throw himself on that wildman’s mercy – if he
had any – persuade him to help.

  "Fat chance," Cole said aloud, remembering the young man’s hostility.

  Still, he could try.

  Chapter Twelve

  It was well after midnight when Destiny at last entered her apartment, kicked off the red satin heels and sank down on the bed. "Oh, Cole..."

  Like a plea, his name escaped her lips. At the auction, his blue eyes had entranced her. If he hadn't turned away, distracted by Sylvia's bid for Web, Destiny knew she would have lost her head completely and let him kiss her, let him talk her into... Anything. Everything.

  She swallowed a sob. If they were wrong for each other, why did her heart ache so? Why did she hunger for his touch like she'd never hungered before – for any man?

  She tried to take a deep breath, but couldn't – the darn dress wouldn't allow it. She stripped it off, remembering the admiration in Cole's eyes as he'd watched her, as he'd danced with her. The feel of his lips...

  Criminy coyote, she was driving herself crazy!

  She threw the dress across a chair, switched off the light, and crawled into bed, then remembered the fifteen hundred dollar charge that was going to show up on her credit card statement.

  Oh great. Well, she'd just have to make monthly payments until her new salary kicked in. Like Paiutes before her, she was adaptable. Hadn't her ancestors blended with the Shoshone, even married them? Hadn't they adopted the dress of the Great Plains tribes, the dances of others? Adapted and survived. And that's what she would do.

  Now if only she had something to show for her extravagant error besides misery.

  Small consolation that she'd kept Cole from going on a date with Sylvia. Though the surprise and pleasure in his eyes had been worth it. For that one brief moment, she’d felt certain he loved her, then doubt had crept back in.

  She closed her eyes, wishing she'd stayed beside him, let him drive her home, let herself believe that he truly loved her – Destiny Moon.

  Frustrated, she rolled over and tried to count backwards from a thousand. It didn’t work. She still couldn’t sleep. She tried to visualize stars in a night sky, but the stars she imagined were in Cole's eyes, radiating warmth as he held her, kissed her.

 

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