The Good Doctor. Karen Smith Rose
urging her on or the desire to spend an evening at the Riverwalk with Peter, she helped push the price upward. Before she knew it, the bidding was up to twenty-five hundred dollars. One of the nurses, a petite blonde, wouldn’t give up. Neither would Violet. They went back and forth in increments of fifty dollars until they hit three thousand.
“Well, well, ladies. It looks as if you’d like to give Peter a night to remember.”
Violet didn’t dare look at him, but she raised her bid and did it big. “Thirty-five hundred dollars,” she called and the room went silent.
The nurse at the other table shook her head.
Stacey’s face broke into a wide grin as she announced, “Number twenty-four has just won the honor of listening to my brother discuss medicine for an evening. Peter, make sure she has a little bit of fun, okay?”
Shaking his head with the tolerance of an older brother, he gave his sister a hug and descended the steps on the far side of the stage.
Violet wasn’t sure exactly what to do.
“So go talk to him,” Lily said with another nudge.
At least now she wouldn’t have to pretend she and Peter were strangers. Maybe she could use that as an excuse for why she’d bid so enthusiastically.
Then she asked herself, Why do you need an excuse?
An inner voice whispered, Because you don’t want him to know you’re attracted to him.
Although her coral beaded gown had one very long slit from her thigh down to the hem, she didn’t feel ladylike taking long strides. Warning herself not to hurry, to pretend a nonchalance she didn’t feel, she found Peter at the rear of the stage talking to a woman she now recognized as Linda Clark.
When Peter’s gaze fell on Violet, he took a good long look from her upswept hairdo to the pearls around her neck to the formfitting gown. The light that came into his eyes excited her, and she told herself to chill. Her work had always mattered more than relationships. Deep down, she knew she used work as an excuse to protect her heart, especially now when her life was in transition and she had to make some tough choices. Her stay in Red Rock was temporary and a short fling wasn’t on her agenda. Despite all that, her pulse raced and excitement tingled up and down her spine as she moved closer to Peter.
“The woman who finally ended my misery,” he said lightly. “Linda, meet Violet Fortune. Violet, this is my sister, Linda Clark.”
Peter’s sister was gracious and friendly as she shook Violet’s hand and smiled. “You two should have a wonderful time on the Riverwalk.” She waved to someone behind Violet. “If you’ll excuse me, I have to be in ten places at once tonight. It was nice to meet you, Violet.” She gave her brother a pat on the arm. “Don’t be a stranger. Remember, Charlene and Dad’s anniversary party next Sunday evening.”
In the space of a second, Violet saw consternation slip over Peter’s face, but then it was gone and she wondered if she’d seen it at all. Didn’t he want to go to his dad’s anniversary party?
They were standing in a room with about three hundred people, yet when she looked into Peter’s eyes it was as if they were stranded on a desert island all alone. That idea was fanciful and she had to put a stop to the thought now. “I bid on you to give a donation to a good cause and so you and I didn’t have to pretend we were strangers around Ryan and Lily. I’ll understand if you really don’t want to go on a date.”
“A date was part of the bargain,” he said seriously. “I haven’t been to the Riverwalk for a while, but if you really don’t want to go—”
“I’d like to go,” she hurried to say. “I just wanted to let you off the hook. It would almost be like a blind date.”
“I’m not blind, Violet.” His gaze as it passed over her made her stomach flip-flop, and she didn’t know what to say to that.
“Do you plan to stick around here much longer?” he asked.
“I don’t know. I have to pay for my bid.”
“I’d like you to meet one of my patients. Would you come with me to San Juan Hospital?”
“Now?”
“Yep, right now.”
She waved to her gown. “Dressed like this?”
“Believe me, no one’s going to care.”
He intrigued her with his request. “All right. I’ll pay for you.” She abruptly stopped. “I mean for our date…then I’ll meet you in the lobby.”
“I’ll go with you. I want to give a donation of my own.”
Then his hand was at her elbow and he was guiding her through the people and the tables.
Violet wasn’t used to any man besides her father and brothers being protective of her, but as Peter’s fingers scorched her skin, she glanced up at him, tall and strong and broad-shouldered. She felt a quickening inside she’d never felt before. What was wrong with her?
They had to wait in line at the table set up near the doors where other women were also paying for their bids.
“Did your sisters help organize this?” she asked.
“They certainly did. They’ve been very involved with the pediatrics wing ever since it was built.”
“They did a wonderful job. Is your father here?”
“No,” Peter said tersely. Then when he realized that had sounded sharp, he offered, “After my mother died, my father went on with his life.”
“That’s a good thing, right?” Violet prompted, hoping Peter would reveal more.
“That depends on how you look at it. He remarried less than a year after my mother died.”
“How old were you?”
“I was thirteen, Stacey was eleven, and Linda was nine.”
“I’m sorry, Peter. I can’t imagine losing a parent at my age now, let alone when I was that young.”
The line had dwindled away and now the woman at the table collecting checks looked up expectantly at Violet.
Peter took his checkbook from an inside jacket pocket and she knew the conversation was closed. Maybe that was best. She and the doctor were colleagues in Ryan’s care and she should keep it at that.
A few minutes later they were walking through the lobby of the hotel when Peter commented, “I only caught a few glimpses of Ryan, but he looked tired tonight. Are his symptoms becoming any more pronounced?”
“Not that I’ve noticed, but he’s used to hiding them from Lily.”
“What did he tell her about staying in Houston overnight?”
“She thinks he’s having dinner with business associates and then a late meeting.”
The doorman held the door for them as they stepped into the night. Peter gestured to the parking area at the side of the hotel and removed a remote control from his trouser pocket. When a black SUV beeped, Violet knew which vehicle was his. She remembered seeing it in his garage the other night. To her surprise and pleasure, he opened the door for her. As she climbed in, the slit on her dress opened wide.
“So those things have a practical purpose,” he noted in a wry tone.
The panel of the dress had slipped to the side, giving him a good look at her thigh and leg. She’d worn a dress like this before. She’d felt men’s gazes on her before. But right now with Peter’s eyes lighting with male appreciation, she felt self-conscious. Lifting the beaded material, she covered her leg on the pretense that she was protecting the fabric from the door. After Peter made sure she was safely tucked inside, he closed it.
Moments later her perfume mingled with the scent of his