Hot Single Docs: Meeting His Match. Susan Carlisle

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      “I did. Do.” Once again she had him telling her things he should keep to himself.

      “I would’ve thought you would’ve been the logical choice.”

      “Me too.” He’d put in his time, paid his dues and had been confident he’d be the committee’s pick.

      “Do you have any idea why they didn’t?”

      “Yeah. Bad day for an interview.”

      She looked at him keenly. “How’s that?”

      “Who’s getting personal now?”

      She sneered at him. “This has to do with the hospital. It’s not personal.”

      “Seems personal to me.” He’d have to tell her or she wouldn’t give up. “My father passed away the week before the interview. I left straight after the interview to attend his funeral. My mind hadn’t been on impressing the committee.”

      His father’s illness and death had not only destroyed Ryan emotionally but it had also damaged his career. The timing of his bid for a leadership position couldn’t have been scheduled on a worse date. He’d make sure when the next opportunity arose that he’d done everything he could to sway the decision in his direction. He was determined to make his father proud. That was why he’d agreed to be a part of the co-ordinated patient care program. Why he had brought the woman next to him to this party.

      Lucy put her hand on his arm. “Ryan, I’m sorry. That seems so unfair.” She looked at him with deep compassion.

      Were her feelings always on display? “And that’s life.”

      “That’s a little more cynical sounding than I believe you are.”

      This conversation had already touched areas he wasn’t interested in exploring. He gave her a twisted smile. “Come on, let’s see about those cards and then get something to eat. Maybe have a dance,” Ryan suggested.

      * * *

      Lucy wasn’t too sure about the dance part. That would require Ryan to touch her and if he did so she was afraid she might make a fool of herself. “I’ll go for the food. I’m not dancing with you. This is no date.”

      She glanced at him. Had Ryan said, “You want to bet?”

      Minutes later they were making their way towards the hors d’oeuvres tables despite being stopped a number of times by greetings from people Ryan knew. He was flawless in his manners and introduced her every time. The charming O’Doherty way.

      Ryan seemed to be popular with women and men alike. He was always ready with a witty remark and a quick smile. Why couldn’t she and Ryan have that kind of relationship? Oh, no. She was letting him do it to her again. He’d made it perfectly clear how he felt and she’d do well to remember that.

      “Why don’t we sit down for a while and enjoy this without juggling the plates?” Ryan suggested, heading toward an empty table.

      They lapsed into silence as they ate. Lucy’s animosity had dwindled but she still wasn’t at ease with him, afraid she’d share too much or, worse, sound needy. Her heart went out to him about his father. He’d obviously cared intensely for the man. And to have lost the department head job must’ve hit Ryan hard as well. For as little as she had shared with him on a personal level tonight, she’d managed to learn a great deal about Ryan.

      While taking small bites, she looked around the room at the upper-level staff of a world-renowned children’s hospital. In spite of dealing with life and death on a daily basis, they were still humans with problems of their own. She glanced at Ryan. He too had issues, even though he worked to hide them behind that facade of humor and charm. She couldn’t point a finger. She also hid her pain.

      Her gaze settled on a group that included Dr. Woods. She kept glancing toward the entrance, where Dr. Rodriguez had his arm around a pretty woman’s waist and was leading her out the door. Dr. Woods shrugged a shoulder and turned to speak to the man beside her. Something about the way she’d been watching Dr. Rodriguez intently was in direct contrast to the nonchalant way she was acting. Lucy’s belief was that Dr. Woods’ look implied she wasn’t pleased to see Dr. Rodriguez leave with a woman.

      Their issues weren’t Lucy’s concern. She had enough of her own, starting with the man sitting beside her. “How much longer do you think we need to stay?” she asked.

      “Why?” Ryan popped another canapé into his mouth. “You in a hurry to get away from me?”

      “I thought it was the other way around.”

      “Why would you think that?” His face took on a perplexed look. “I thought we were having a pretty good time.”

      “Well, you made it more than clear that you weren’t interested in spending any more personal time with me than necessary.” She nudged her half-empty plate to the center of the table and stood. “If you’re not ready to go, I don’t mind taking a taxi.”

      He stood. “We can go. We’ve done our duty. I’d just hoped to get one dance with you.”

      “This isn’t a date. It’s work,” she said over her shoulder as she made her way to the coat-check counter. “Dancing comes under the heading of personal.”

      She claimed her coat. Ryan took it from her and held it while she slipped it on. He stood so close that his body warmed her back. She stepped forward on the pretense of putting her scarf on in order just to catch her breath.

      * * *

      As Ryan and Lucy descended the stairs she said, “By the way, I understand about the department job but that doesn’t explain way you don’t like Dr. Rodriguez. There’s something more going on there.”

      “More?” He did not want to talk about this.

      “Yeah. I thought you were supposed to be Mr. Happy-Go-Lucky and you were...what would be the word?...strident, harsh, displeased...” She stopped on the step and looked up at him as if trying to pull the right expression out of the air. “You don’t care for the man. Why?”

      “It’s personal.”

      “Right. You’re going to play that card.”

      “Why not? You’ve been throwing the word around all night.”

      They’d reached the bottom of the stairs when Lucy said, “Closing off when you might have to share more than a joke. Typical.”

      “Look, I’m sorry if you think I have no concern for your vulnerabilities, but I’ve done nothing wrong. I’m not your confessor. You spilled, I listened, and now we move on.” He couldn’t let her know that he admired what she’d done. If he did, she might use him as her confessor again. He desired her supple body and itched to caress her hair, but he wanted nothing to do with being involved in her life.

      If Lucy could have produced steam, he didn’t doubt it would be coming out of her ears right now. “Of all the contemptuous, uncaring things you could have said. You’re nothing like people think you are.”

      “How many of us really СКАЧАТЬ