Secret Seduction. Lori Wilde

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      That wasn’t what she was going to say at all, but it was the truth. Taken aback, Vanessa stared at him.

      The man’s unsettling blue eyes held her own over the flickering candles in the middle of the white linen tablecloth. She had an urge to put up her dukes in a boxing stance.

      “Why did you say that?” she asked.

      “Going to a nightclub you don’t often frequent, dancing with a stranger, then joining him for dinner. Now ordering steak. Do you want to talk about it?”

      Irritation sideswiped her like transfer paint in a fender bender. Vanessa swallowed, arranged her face into a smile. Was she that transparent or was he that perceptive? “I changed my mind. I do want to know your name. But only your first name.”

      “Why’s that?”

      “Last names complicate things.”

      “Tanner,” he said. “How ’bout you?”

      She extended her hand across the table. “Vanessa.”

      He shook her hand. His palm was warm in hers, calloused. These were not the pampered hands of a surgeon, the type of men she usually dated. These hands knew manual labor.

      The waitress appeared at their table with two glasses of water.

      “Two tenderloin steaks.” Tanner looked at Vanessa, “Medium?”

      “Medium rare,” she supplied to be perverse. She did prefer her steaks cooked medium, but she didn’t like him guessing that about her.

      “Two coffees, steaks medium rare and the sautéed vegetables,” he told the waitress and handed her their menus.

      She frowned, not knowing why she was feeling so argumentative and yet so interested.

      “Why are you trying so hard to look so tough?” he asked.

      “Who says I’m not tough?” She hardened her jaw, sat up straighter in the seat and gave him her best barrio-girl expression.

      “That cross-me-and-you-die look in your eyes.”

      “You don’t think I’m serious?”

      He shook his head. “Oh, you’re tough on the outside, but inside—” he thumped his right fist over his heart “—you feel deep.”

      A sense of vulnerability wrapped her in a sweaty hug. She made a derisive noise even though she would like very much to feel him inside her. “Is this your best pickup line?”

      The notion was unexpected but intriguing. One night in bed with this tall drink of water might just be the antidote she needed to quell thoughts of Carlo Vega. She found Tanner far more appealing than she should. Everything about him was sexy, even the proprietary way he’d ordered for her.

      “You picked me up, remember?”

      She had indeed. “And now you think you know everything about me.”

      “Not everything.” He took a sip of water. “But I’d like to know more.”

      Yeah, she’d like to know more about him, too. But why? She wasn’t in the market for a serious relationship, or any relationship for that matter. She still had a year to go on her residency and it required all her dedication and concentration. But one glorious night with the studly Viking here? Oh, yeah.

      The waitress, clad in a simple uniform of black slacks and a white silk blouse, brought their order, rescuing Vanessa from having to answer the question in his piercing blue eyes. She couldn’t help wondering what he would think if he knew the truth about her. Where she was from. The things she’d done to survive and make her way in the world. And that nothing mattered more to her than her career.

      “Did you used to be a Boy Scout?” she asked to derail him.

      He stopped buttering his roll and looked at her. “What makes you say that?”

      She shrugged. “You just look like a Boy Scout. Blond. Clean-cut. Perfect posture.”

      “Yes,” he said. “I was a Boy Scout. Even earned a good conduct medal.” His grin was self-deprecating. “Were you ever a Girl Scout?”

      In the barrio?

      “So what do you do for fun?” he asked, cutting into his steak. “When you’re not dancing at Emilio’s?”

      “I don’t have much free time. The closest I come to a hobby is my daily jog.” Vanessa cut into her own steak. “And once in a rare while I get to indulge my passion for old movies.”

      “Ah,” he said. “A workaholic.”

      She eyed his biceps straining against the sleeves of his shirt. She wished she had X-ray vision so she could see the delineation of each strata of those muscles. “I can see you’re not a slacker in the exercise department. What do you do to keep your guns in shape?”

      He smiled and flexed his upper arms. The man had every reason in the world to be proud of his spectacular physique. “Power lifting. But for fun, I kayak the Colorado. You ever been?”

      “No,” she admitted. Not much opportunity for kayaking where she came from. “But it sounds like fun.”

      “Maybe I’ll take you sometime.”

      Hope coiled tight inside her. Sometime. Ha! There’d be no other time with him. Now was all she could afford and even this was risky. She ducked her head, busied herself with spearing a bit of juicy tenderloin. “So you’re a Texan?”

      “Born and raised,” he said.

      “Where’s your hometown?”

      “Right here in Austin. You?”

      “El Paso.”

      “What brought you to Austin? Boyfriend? Husband?”

      “Is this your way of asking if I’m attached?”

      His eyes darkened. “Hey, no guy likes ugly surprises when he’s out with a pretty woman.”

      The comment made her smile. “I’m single,” she said. “Never married.”

      “I’m single, as well.” Tanner nodded, but he had a strange look on his face, almost as if he were lying. “So you’re in Austin because…”

      Here he was asking the question she dreaded most. Vanessa gave him the pat answer that was only partly the truth. “Med school.”

      The minute the words were out of her mouth, she could have bitten off her tongue. She hadn’t wanted him to know she was a doctor. A lot of guys got weird when they found out what she did for a living. Many of them felt challenged by a smart, successful woman.

      “You’re a doctor?” He sounded impressed.

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