The Trophy Wife. Sandra Steffen

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ until they were well away from the stables. She’d expected a thank-you. Instead, he’d shoved his hair behind his ears, his lips curling with contempt as he said, “I don’t need anybody doing me any favors, least of all a scrawny, spoiled little rich girl like you.”

      She’d stuck her nose in the air and informed him that his name should have been Chip, not Tripp. He’d stared at her, and she’d held his gaze despite the fact that she was half his size. Back then she hadn’t known they were rich and she wasn’t spoiled, no matter what he said. Even then she’d known what really mattered, and it wasn’t something a person could buy. What truly mattered was trust, love and loyalty. Everything else faded away without them.

      Amber looked around the courtyard today. The garden, with all its demanding tea roses and ornamental shrubs and bushes had faded, too, as if it too was lacking what it truly needed.

      “What have you been doing out here?”

      His question brought her back to their earlier conversation. Swirling the iced tea she had yet to taste, she said, “I went for a swim. Then I watched the clouds.”

      “You watch clouds? Like a meteorologist?”

      She shook her head. “Nothing that interesting. It was a game we used to play when we were kids.”

      Tripp looked around the garden, with its pool and fountain and women with nothing better to do than stretch out and catch a nap. Places like this were made for lounging. He didn’t have enough hours in a day to accomplish everything he needed to do, let alone the time to watch clouds and play games. Or wait, for that matter. His receptionist liked to say that Tripp became a doctor because it enabled him to be the one keeping others waiting, instead of the other way around.

      He glanced at the house where he was supposed to meet with Joe. Maybe Tripp wasn’t the most patient man on the planet, but the real reason he’d become a pediatrician was tied up with this house, and the people who’d taken him in all those years ago.

      “Want to try?” Amber asked.

      He looked at her blankly. “Try what?”

      “See that cloud over there?”

      He peered at the horizon. He saw a lot of clouds. “Which one?”

      “The one shaped like Smoky the Bear.”

      He squinted at the distant sky. The description didn’t help.

      “Look.”

      He was looking, dammit.

      “There. To the right of the line formed by a jet’s exhaust.”

      Tilting his head at an angle to match hers, he said, “That tall cloud over there?”

      “Yes.” She sounded breathless. “Do you see it? The one that looks like Smoky the Bear?”

      He looked down at her, and forgot what he’d been doing. Her eyes were green, her lashes long. Her hair was mussed, a riot of golden tangles around her face and neck. Her mouth was pretty, her lips full and slightly pouty. Heat stirred inside him. He was tempted to kiss her, here and now. As a gust of wind fluttered her soft white beach cover-up, pressing it against her body, the heat moved lower.

      “A bear?” He cleared his throat. What the hell had happened to his voice? Forcing his eyes back to the clouds, he said, “I don’t see any bear. Joe DiMaggio, maybe.”

      He was vaguely aware that she’d eased closer. He misjudged just how close; the next time he moved, his arm brushed something incredibly soft. He glanced down again and stepped back as if he’d touched fire.

      His beeper sounded and he jumped again. This time he swore under his breath, and reached for the pager. Reading the display, he said, “I need to call the hospital in Ukiah.”

      She motioned to the cordless lying on a low table, then watched as he picked it up. After punching several numbers, he spoke in low tones. Replacing the phone to the table, he said, “I have to meet a patient at the hospital in Ukiah.”

      He was halfway to the house when she called, “What do you want me to tell my father?”

      He turned around. Amber wished she were close enough to get a good look at the expression in his dark brown eyes.

      “Tell him I’ll call him later.”

      “I’ll tell him. It was good to see you again, Tripp.”

      “You, too.”

      She smiled. As if it required a conscious effort, he broke eye contact and slowly resumed his retreat. Rather than leave via the house, he changed directions, veering toward the side yard. Less than a minute later, she heard his car start on the other side of the house.

      What in the world had just happened?

      She stared at her iced tea. Closing her eyes, she placed the cold glass against her forehead.

      She’d reacted to the sight and sound and touch of Tripp Calhoun. And he’d reacted to her. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt so breathless without doing a thing. Her entire body felt sensitized. If she were to jump in the pool right now, she would sizzle all over.

      A door opened, and Inez bustled outside. “Your father is off the phone.” The other woman looked all around. “Where’s Tripp?”

      Amber’s vision remained fixed on the path Tripp had taken. “Something came up. An emergency at the hospital. He had to leave.”

      Inez made no reply.

      Amber could feel Inez’s penetrating gaze. “What is it?” Amber asked.

      Turning her hand over, Inez said, “He left his watch inside. Did he say when he will return?”

      “No. I’m afraid he didn’t.” Amber reached for the watch. “I’ll be sure he gets it, Inez.”

      “That is a good idea, I think.” Inez turned away before Amber could decide what to make of the dark-haired woman’s beaming smile.

      Amber strode to the shaded side of the pool. Bending down, she gently shook her friend. “Claire, wake up.”

      A pair of baby-blue eyes fluttered open. “I don’t want to wake up. I was dreaming about this amazing, ruggedly attractive, dark-haired man.”

      Amber smiled. “It wasn’t a dream, Claire. Believe me. Come on. I have to go to Ukiah.”

      Claire sat up languidly. “Ukiah, really?” she said, pushing her straight, coffee-colored hair away from her face. “Could you drop me off at the gallery first? You can fill me in on the way.”

      Half an hour later Amber pulled her car into the alley behind Claire’s art gallery in Prosperino. Claire opened her door and climbed out, then leaned down to say goodbye through the open window. Behind her, Amber noticed a door opening on the second story of a building in the distance. Something about the woman descending the stairs seemed familiar. Very familiar.

      “Amber, is something wrong?” Claire asked.

      Amber СКАЧАТЬ