The Doctor's Runaway Fiancée. Cindy Kirk

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       Chapter Three

      Sylvie shoved a piece of arugula into her mouth and decided meeting Andrew at the Coffee Pot had been a mistake. Not only was it too public for any serious discussion, but she didn’t want to have a serious discussion about anything with Andrew. What would be the point?

      It wasn’t his fault that they came from two different worlds. She’d been foolish to fleetingly believe love would be enough. But love hadn’t kept her parents together. Love hadn’t even made her mother stick with her child, even though she’d been the only family Sylvie had left.

      Andrew might have thought he loved her, might even have convinced himself he did, but it had been only infatuation. An infatuation that could have cost him everything that mattered in his life.

      When she’d overheard him and his father heatedly arguing—about her—she knew she would not be the cause of a rift between Andrew and his parents.

      The only purpose of meeting with him again was to give back a ring she was no longer entitled to keep. A clear break with the past would allow her to move on in a way she hadn’t been able to do in June. Dropping her fork to the table, she slid her hand inside her fringed bag.

      Before she had a chance to pull out the diamond, Andrew leaned forward. His fingers closed around her arm.

      “No need to pay yet. We haven’t finished eating. Besides, this is my treat.”

      The baby’s sudden cry was like an ice pick in her eye.

      Sylvie clutched the ring tightly in her palm. She’d loved the filigreed set and emerald-cut diamond from the second he’d placed it on her finger. Though it made no sense, Sylvie wanted to keep the ring.

      She couldn’t force a smile and this time she didn’t even bother to try. “It was a mistake.”

      She wasn’t sure what “it” she meant. Not exactly.

      “You’re getting real good at running. Better be careful or it might become a habit.”

      She met Andrew’s gray eyes and released the ring back into the inside pocket of her bag. “I simply don’t see the purpose to this.”

      “You owe me an explanation.” Before Andrew could say more, someone called out her name. Then his.

      Sylvie turned to see Ben and Poppy Campbell making their way to the table.

      “What are you two doing?” Poppy asked.

      “Uh, eating,” Sylvie said, though she couldn’t have downed another bite of salad if her life depended on it.

      Poppy’s laugh was low and husky, as perfect as her simple red sheath and boxy jacket. Here was a woman who would have fit perfectly into Andrew’s world. Classy with a capital C.

      When Josie had told her Poppy was a social worker, Sylvie was disbelieving. Fashion model? Absolutely. Social worker? No way.

      Sylvie could easily believe that Benedict, in his dark brown pants, ivory shirt and Italian loafers, had been Andrew’s schoolmate. Right now Ben’s shrewd gray eyes were as curious as his wife’s.

      Apparently deciding the best response was a strong offense, Andrew smiled. “Sylvie and I were acquainted when she lived in Boston. We thought it’d be nice to renew our...friendship.”

      Blast him for that tiny hesitation that gave an extra punch to the last word. The implication that there had once been more between them was there. That was obvious when her two friends exchanged knowing glances.

      Ben looked amused but not particularly surprised. “How fortunate, then, that I ran into you and invited you to the barbecue.”

      “I’d planned on looking up Sylvie anyway.” Andrew spoke smoothly. “But it was a surprise to learn we had a common friend.”

      Sylvie wasn’t sure Dr. Benedict Campbell, one of Jackson Hole’s leading orthopedic surgeons, considered her a friend, but she wasn’t about to protest.

      “A bunch of us meet here each week when the kids are in Sunday school. We have a large table toward the back.” Poppy stepped back to let the waitress slip around her to top off Andrew’s coffee cup.

      Sylvie saw Andrew’s gaze follow the gesture to an alcove at the very back of the dining area where a large rectangular table sat, three-quarters full.

      “We’ve asked Sylvie to join us many times,” Poppy said pointedly. “She always turns us down. At least now we’re in the building at the same time, so I’d say we’re making progress.”

      Sylvie smiled. She liked this social worker. The ones she’d dealt with growing up had always seemed more concerned with their rules and regulations. Poppy seemed to genuinely care about СКАЧАТЬ