Unbridled. Diana Palmer

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       ONE

      It was two weeks until Christmas. Suna Wesley, whom her coworkers called Sunny, was standing by herself at the edge of the makeshift dance floor in the boardroom at the San Antonio Hal Marshall Memorial Children’s Hospital, watching as her colleagues in the hospital laughed and performed to the music on the loudspeakers. A disc jockey from a local radio station, related to one of the nurses, had been persuaded to provide commentary. There was plenty of punch and refreshments. Doctors and nurses, orderlies and dieticians, mingled around the buffet table. It was a holiday-themed party, the Saturday after Thanksgiving. One of the favorite staff doctors had taken a job back east, so it was mostly a going-away party.

      Christmas decorations were draped around the room, marking the start of the holiday season. Holly and mistletoe and golden bells mingled with red bows. It made the holidays come to life in the red and green decor. But the whole holiday season was sad for Sunny. It brought back haunting memories of the season with her father and mother and little brother. Those days were long gone.

      As she watched a nurse flirt with one of the interns, Sunny wished it was over. She’d been persuaded to stay after her shift and join in the fun. But it was the same as always. She was alone, because she was too shy to push herself into one of the many small groups and engage in conversation. She lived alone, stayed alone, was resigned to being alone for the rest of her life.

      She pushed back her long, platinum blond hair and wished she were beautiful. Her hair was her one good quality. It was straight and pretty when she left it long, and it fell to her waist in back. She had big brown eyes that reflected her loneliness when she was alone and didn’t have to hide it from others.

      It was sad that she had no partner. Her mother and father had loved to dance. Her father had taught her all the exotic Latin dances that at least three couples were mutilating on the dance floor. Her feet itched to try it. But she avoided men. It was useless to become involved with anyone, considering her limitations. No, better to stand all alone with a glass of punch that she hadn’t even touched and feel sorry for herself, decked out in a floral nurse’s tunic and droopy slacks, not a smidgeon of lipstick or powder on her soft features. Her brown eyes were dull with memories that hurt. Holidays were the worst...

      “Hey, Ruiz, you going to show us how to do that samba?” somebody called to a tall man in a shepherd’s coat and wide-brimmed creamy felt hat with a feather decoration. It reminded Sunny that even in San Antonio, autumn was cold.

      Her eyes went to the newcomer. Her heart skipped a beat just at the sight of him. He was gorgeous! Tall, olive-complexioned, elegant, with powerful long legs and a face that would have graced a magazine cover. He had a very masculine face, with a chiseled, sensuous mouth. Black eyes danced under a rakishly tilted cream-colored Stetson, white teeth flashed at the questioner.

      “Hey, do I look like I got time to give you pilgrims dance lessons?” he called back in a deep voice just faintly accented. “I’m a working stiff!”

      “Lies!” the physician called back. “Get over here and have some fun. You’re too serious!”

      “If I wasn’t serious, you guys would have to pay people to let you operate on them,” he scoffed.

      “One dance,” the physician dared. “Come on, you spineless coward!”

      “Ah, now, that’s fighting words.” He chuckled, looking around for a victim. His eyes fell on Sunny’s long, beautiful hair and narrowed on her exquisite complexion.

      No, she thought. Oh, no, no...!

      While she was thinking it, he took her drink, put it on the table, caught her around the waist and riveted her to his tall, powerful body as he drew her onto the dance floor. He was very strong, and he looked taller in the shepherd’s coat he was wearing with jeans and boots. He even smelled nice.

      “Hey, rubia,” he teased, using the Spanish word for a blonde female. “You dance with me, okay?”

      “I...can’t...” she faltered and blushed.

      “Not true. Everybody can dance. Some people just do it with more natural rhythm and grace than others!” He chuckled and pulled her closer as he made quick turns. He was incredible on the dance floor. But she was afraid of the effect he had on her, and it was a very public sort of dance. Everyone was looking at them and smiling, and she was painfully shy.

      The contact was electric. She tingled all over from being so close to his long-legged, powerful body, so close and warm against her flowered top and pants, warming her body, making her feel things she’d never felt. She’d never been so close to a man in her adult life, and it shocked her, СКАЧАТЬ