Книга - The Best Blind Date In Texas

The Best Blind Date In Texas
Victoria Chancellor


WELCOME TO RANGER SPRINGS, TEXASC'mon down to the Four Square Cafe. The food's hot, and the gossip's hotter!Love is BlindFolks in Ranger Springs know Gray Phillips is the perfect blind date–they just can't persuade the gallant, sexy entrepreneur to date the same woman twice! Then Dr. Amy Wheatley's father gets in cahoots with the town matchmakers to fix up Amy and Gray–and rumors of a steamy kiss witnessed in the wee hours of the morning go flying. Now they're officially an item, and everyone's buzzin' about an engagement. Except there's a sizzling tension between them, a yearning in Amy's eyes and–can it be?–fear in Gray's. Have these two conspired to fool us all…and only fooled themselves?The Way We Met…and Married: a funny thing happened on the way to the wedding









Dr. Amy Wheatley’s Guide to Finding the Perfect Man


—Insist you simply don’t have time for dating and men.

—Give in to gentle pressure and accept one blind date. Only one!

—Try to catch your breath when you open the door to see the man of your dreams on your front porch.

—Enlist his help in getting the town matchmakers off both your backs with your pretend-to-date-exclusively plan.

—Realize you want to date him exclusively—and more!

—Don’t give up when he says he cares for you more than any other woman, but just can’t say those three little words….


Dear Reader,

Heartwarming, emotional, compelling…these are all words that describe Harlequin American Romance. Check out this month’s stellar selection of love stories, which are sure to delight you.

First, Debbi Rawlins delivers the exciting conclusion of Harlequin American Romance’s continuity series, TEXAS SHEIKHS. In His Royal Prize, sparks fly immediately between dashing sheikh Sharif and Desert Rose ranch hand Olivia Smith. However, Sharif never expected their romantic tryst to be plastered all over the tabloids—or that the only way to salvage their reputations would be to make Olivia his royal bride.

Bestselling author Muriel Jensen pens another spectacular story in her WHO’S THE DADDY? miniseries with Daddy To Be Determined, in which a single gal’s ticking biological clock leads her to convince a single dad that he’s the perfect man to father her baby. In Have Husband, Need Honeymoon, the third book in Rita Herron’s THE HARTWELL HOPE CHESTS miniseries, Alison Hartwell thought her youthful marriage to an air force pilot had been annulled, but surprise! Now a forced reunion with her “husband” has her wondering if a second honeymoon couldn’t give them a second chance at forever. And Harlequin American Romance’s promotion THE WAY WE MET…AND MARRIED continues with The Best Blind Date in Texas. Don’t miss this wonderful romance from Victoria Chancellor.

It’s a great lineup, and we hope you enjoy them all!

Wishing you happy reading,

Melissa Jeglinski

Associate Senior Editor

Harlequin American Romance


The Best Blind Date in Texas

Victoria Chancellor







To George and Bonnie Arthur, the aunt and uncle of my heart.




Acknowledgment:


Special thanks to Dr. Rick Miles, former Butler High School classmate, friend and smalltown doctor, for his expertise, time and encouragement.




ABOUT THE AUTHOR


While growing up in Louisville, Kentucky, Victoria Chancellor never realized her vivid imagination meant that she would someday become a writer. Now married to a Texan and settled in a suburb of Dallas, she thoroughly enjoys creating fictional worlds inhabited by characters who deserve a happy ending. When she’s not writing, Victoria cares for her “zoo” of three cats, two ferrets, two tortoises, a flock of naturalized ring-necked doves and assorted wild animals who wander onto her patio for dinner each night. She would love to receive letters at P.O. Box 852125, Richardson, TX 75085-2125. Please enclose a SASE for reply.




Books by Victoria Chancellor


HARLEQUIN AMERICAN ROMANCE

844—THE BACHELOR PROJECT

884—THE BEST BLIND DATE IN TEXAS










Contents


Chapter One (#u3dfb6b61-31fc-5c5b-9a11-d75cc47c83d2)

Chapter Two (#u9e3d6da5-85e7-5638-a415-d4538c2f246a)

Chapter Three (#uecf96885-dec6-5734-939e-e1d3b4f2a2cc)

Chapter Four (#uce618e59-b9ce-5a2c-b15e-57478e41fbfa)

Chapter Five (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Fourteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Fifteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Sixteen (#litres_trial_promo)




Chapter One


“Amy Jo, you need a man.”

Dr. Amy Wheatley loved her dad more than anyone else in this world, but he could be the most single-minded person in all of Texas.

She clamped her teeth shut to keep from firing back a hasty, ill-advised comment. Her father’s statement wasn’t new; he’d been making similar remarks for about three years, ever since she’d finished her residency. Now that she’d moved back to Ranger Springs, Amy knew she was in for even more pressure to change her title from “Dr.” to “Mrs.”

“Dad, we’ve been over this ten-dozen times,” she said calmly, hefting another file box on top of the huge old oak desk that would be hers. “I do not need a man in my life. Especially not right now.”

She had enough to do just unpacking, opening a bank account and getting reacquainted with the people who would soon be her patients. Coming back to her hometown had been a dream, a goal she hadn’t dared voice. She’d vowed she’d stay away, allow her father to continue his medical practice until he decided to retire. But his recent fall had been the perfect excuse to quit the group practice she’d joined in Fort Worth to become her father’s partner.

He needed her more than ever before. Now she could contribute to his practice, not just his personal life. As a child she’d baked his favorite brownies and handcrafted cheerful cards when he’d had a bad day. Ever since her mother’s death, Amy had played the role of lady of the house. Now she was also a doctor, a fully qualified professional who could shoulder her share of responsibility at the Wheatley Medical Clinic.

Her dad limped into the office where he’d reviewed patient’s medical records, written prescriptions and read hundreds of journal articles over his forty years of practicing medicine. Settling into one of the two matching chairs, he gave a big sigh. “Amy Jo, I’m not talkin’ about your life, although I know you’ll be happier when you settle down with someone special.”

Her father gave another dramatic sigh. “No, girl, I’m talkin’ about that medical fund-raiser you’re goin’ to attend in Austin. The fact of the matter is you need a date.”

She stopped unpacking and narrowed her eyes. “You didn’t mention that when you had me sign up.” Apparently he’d found another way to slip a man into her life. Not that she had anything against men…but now was not a good time to start a social life.

“Heck, no. You didn’t need a date to sign up, but you’re going to be the only one sitting by herself during that big dance.”

He’d apparently thought this through, but she wasn’t going to give up easily. If she did, he’d be encouraged in his quest to find her a husband. “Daddy, maybe I don’t even need to go. I have a lot to do before I start seeing patients at the clinic a week from Monday. And the donation is the important thing, right? The food isn’t usually that great at those hotel dinners, and I don’t care much about dancing.”

His momentary silence made her look up from the stack of folders. She couldn’t miss the spark of devilment in his blue eyes. “What?”

“Maryanne Perkins Bridges is chairin’ the shindig.”

Amy groaned as she buried her head behind her hands. Maryanne, who’d competed against Amy from the time they met at a junior high track meet, throughout high school and on into college. Maryanne, who’d beaten Amy by two points on the SAT and stolen the interest of Jason Price, the Wimberley High School quarterback. Of all the people from her past, Amy didn’t want her old nemesis to see her as the only single young female physician at a charity dinner dance. Or, worse yet, see her name on the list and know she didn’t have the nerve to show up in person.

Sinking into her chair, she hid from his watchful eyes behind the box of letters and articles. Darn it, he’d known exactly what to say to make her agree to a blind date.

“But come to think of it, Amy Jo, it wouldn’t kill you to go out with some nice young man.”

Okay, he was going to be especially persistent today, even though he’d already made his point. She needed to pull out her heavy-duty argument. Amy lifted one eyebrow and challenged, “Who would that be, Dad? A farmer, a feed store employee or the new guy pumping gas at the Kash ’n’ Karry out on the state highway? What happened to your advice that I should hold out for someone successful, charming and handsome?”

Dr. Ambrose Wheatley chuckled, then pushed himself up out of the chair. “Don’t worry about it. I’ve got just the man in mind. The only one I know good enough to date my baby girl.”

“But just one date, Daddy. That’s all I’ll agree to.”

“You might change your mind after you meet him.”

“I don’t think so.”

“He’s a real charmer.”

“One date,” she stated again.

“Owns his own business, right here in town.”

Amy snorted.

“Everybody likes him.”

Amy shook her head and went back to unpacking. “He must be a saint,” she mumbled.

“I heard that,” he said as he grasped his cane and hobbled toward the door.

“Seriously, Dad, I don’t want you to get me a date for the dance.” Having her father fix her up just seemed too bizarre. Instead, maybe she should call one of her former colleagues in Fort Worth for a favor.

“Of course you do, Amy Jo. You can’t go to the most popular medical event in central Texas all by yourself. I know you’ve been livin’ in the big city for a while, but out here in God’s country, a pretty young lady needs a date for a nice dinner and dance.”

Ranger Springs might have changed a little since she’d moved away, but she still couldn’t think of one man who would fit the profile of an impressive date—the kind of man her father had just described. She hadn’t lived here in eleven years, but she had come back to visit, and as far as she knew, most of the “good ones” were already married or had moved away. And, like most small towns, Ranger Springs didn’t automatically embrace strangers. Who could her father have in mind?

“Please,” she whispered, “not one of my old high school classmates.” If they were still single around here at thirty, chances were pretty good they had a serious flaw. She could very well find herself attending the fund-raiser arm in arm with a guy whose idea of formal wear was a baby blue tuxedo and a ruffled white shirt.

Maybe her father wouldn’t be able to find her a date, despite his assurance he knew just the man. If she were alone, she’d be able to slip away from the fund-raiser without ever having to face Maryanne Perkins Bridges and her rich, successful surgeon husband.

She raised her head and stared at the wall of photos in her father’s office. Three generations he’d brought into the world, treated, cured and sometimes eulogized. All of this was hers—her legacy. Could she live up to the legend of Dr. Ambrose Wheatley? Would the citizens of Ranger Springs accept her, as a qualified doctor instead of the teenager who’d written “I love Duran Duran” on the cinder block wall of the high school gym?

Whatever the town thought, her father wanted her to come home to practice medicine. And also to find a nice man, settle down and raise some babies. Amy smiled. She never could say no to her daddy when he really had his heart set on something.

“Just no baby blue tuxedos,” she prayed aloud in the Saturday silence of her father’s office.

“I heard that,” her father said as he shut the door.

AMBROSE WHEATLEY concentrated on negotiating the sidewalk with his cane. He had to use the darned thing for at least four more weeks, until he could remove the walking cast. He’d been darned clumsy to fall down the back stairs. At least it was his left. He could still drive with his right foot.

If a fractured ankle was what it took to get Amy back to town, it was a small price to pay.

Oh, he knew she was afraid of coming into the practice. She thought she might take charge, be a bit too bossy like she’d been when she was a youngster. Sooner or later, she’d figure out he wanted her to take the bit between her teeth. He’d had a great career here in Ranger Springs, but it was time to slow down. Time to let a new generation grab the reins.

He pushed open the door of the Four Square Café just around lunchtime, the familiar tinkling of the bell music to his ears. Now that Amy was back, he’d have plenty of time to eat lunch here whenever he pleased. Not that the food was all that great, although it was darn good most days. What he really wanted to enjoy was the company.

One particular lady.

A smile broke out as he spotted his goal. Seated at their regular table, Thelma Rogers and Joyce Winston had just gotten their coffee when he walked up to the table.

“Ladies,” he greeted as he leaned on the cane. The darned walk from his car to the café had him aching.

“Ambrose!” Thelma looked up from her menu of today’s specials. “What a pleasant surprise.”

He glanced at Joyce, who patted her pretty strawberry blond hair and hardly gave him a second look. He smiled and settled into the chair opposite the beauty store owner and operator.

“I’ve got a job for you two,” he said in a near whisper.

That got their attention. “What kind of job?” the newspaper owner and editor asked.

“A little matchmakin’.” Ambrose smiled and leaned a bit closer. “I think my baby girl and our newest eligible bachelor would make quite a strikin’ pair, don’t you think?”

Joyce smiled and nudged Thelma’s side. “I think you’re right.”

GRAYSON PHILLIPS SENSED the tension building inside of him as he made the turn onto Deer Lick Road. His destination, the modest frame home next to Ranger Springs’s medical clinic, was in sight. He had nothing against the street, the house or even the woman inside, but still, his muscles tensed for battle and his breaths came faster, more shallow. He should have become accustomed to the feeling, but instead, he’d begun to resent the experience.

Gray wasn’t confronting an enemy or embarking on a dangerous activity. No, he’d been pressured into yet another blind date by resident matchmakers Thelma and Joyce, who had made his social life their exclusive business ever since he’d moved to town last summer.

Not that he’d resisted their efforts in the past. Many of their attempts to find him the perfect woman had been earnest, if misguided, efforts. He had yet to convince the two ladies he wasn’t looking for a future Mrs. Phillips. Hell, he’d tried married life, and in his opinion, being single was infinitely more desirable. And, despite a barrage of dates that involved dinners in some of Austin and San Antonio’s finest restaurants, charity galas and sporting events, dating was still much less expensive than catering to the whims of a wife.

But mostly, he’d realized just recently, their goal wasn’t only fixing him up. No, Thelma and Joyce had targeted him as the ideal blind date for whatever single woman under forty in town had a party, reunion, dance or other social obligation to attend.

His car eased into the driveway where his current—and soon to be one-time—date for the evening awaited. Slowly, aware of each crack in the concrete and each loose piece of gravel, he rolled toward the newly painted house. Apparently Dr. Wheatley—the retiring one, not his daughter—had bought the house years ago with plans to expand his practice someday. Gray had heard in town that the modest two-bedroom dwelling had been fixed up for the new doc.

He’d learned the hard way that the grapevine in Ranger Springs was usually accurate and exceedingly prompt. If he didn’t know better, he’d think that they were using some of the high-tech listening devices his company developed and manufactured. If he kissed a woman good-night, the entire downtown area was buzzing with the implications by lunchtime the next day. Thelma and Joyce seemed to be the ring leaders, although Gray had his suspicions that some of the older men who hung out at the Four Square Café were just as guilty.

He would have felt more used if he’d believed the two women were taking advantage of him. They weren’t. They simply couldn’t believe a single man was happy in his bachelor state. The two old friends believed they had a civic duty to see him matched up with some local woman who possessed the talent, grace or beauty necessary to win his heart.

“Right,” he muttered as he killed the engine of his silver Lexus. Little did they know how resistant he was finding the ideal mate. He’d loved his ex-wife, Connie, with the passion of youth, then with the settled assurance of married life. Sure, he’d spent much of his time building his invention into a business. He’d never realized she “suffered” from his lack of attention or absences. Not until he’d discovered her affair with one of his best friends. One of his former best friends.

Much to his surprise, his heart hadn’t died when he’d discovered his ex-wife’s betrayal, but his pride had suffered a major injury—one he was unwilling to repeat. The experience had reminded him of facts he’d learned from his divorced parents: first, relationships, especially marriages, should never be taken for granted, and second, nothing lasts forever.

His focus for the past four years had been building his company, Grayson Industries, into a high-tech competitor. The move from Dallas to Ranger Springs last year had been a good one. He provided jobs for many who chose to live in the Hill Country, plus his costs were way down since the move. And he was getting settled in a house that suited him on an ideal piece of land overlooking a rugged, winding valley.

Drawing in a deep breath, he ran his hands along the leather-covered steering wheel, letting the texture and shape calm him. He concentrated on everything that was right with his life at this moment: his business, this new town, his single status.

He slipped out of the warm interior of his car, welcoming the blast of cold air that swirled around the house from the north. He ducked his head against the head wind as he followed the cracked concrete walk past the yellow chrysanthemums and orange marigolds. His imported leather shoes made no sound as he climbed the two steps to the front porch. Before ringing the doorbell, he adjusted the lapels of his tux and ran his fingers through his salt-and-pepper hair.

“Showtime,” he whispered as he pressed the buzzer.

AMY TOOK A DEEP BREATH, smoothed a hand down the simple lines of her ice blue, raw silk cocktail dress, and pushed out of the chair. She hadn’t heard her date arrive, despite sitting in her living room listening intently for the past ten minutes.

Not that she was anxious to meet him, or, for that matter, to even attend tonight’s function in Austin. No, she was simply curious about the man so many had praised as the perfect blind date. After her father had informed her he’d made the arrangements, Amy had gotten rave reviews on the man from everyone she’d met. She couldn’t remember any outsider who’d moved into the area who had been so totally accepted by the residents of Ranger Springs and beyond.

What could make this particular man so perfect? And why, unless he had a serious personality flaw or hygiene problem, did he need to go on so many blind dates? From her experience, good-looking, single men who were interested in women could get their own dates. She simply couldn’t imagine why everyone from Pastor Carl Schlepinger to the newest clerk at the Kash ’n’ Karry sang Grayson Phillips’s praises so highly.

Until she opened the door.

She snapped her mouth shut. Standing there gaping like a dead guppy wouldn’t give a great first impression to the tall, drop-dead gorgeous man with riveting gray eyes and dark hair liberally shot with silver. His wide shoulders more than did justice to the well-cut tuxedo and perfectly tailored white shirt.

No ruffles. No baby blue polyester.

“Miss Wheatley?” the Adonis at her door asked. “I’m Gray Phillips.”

“Dr. Wheatley,” she said automatically, her voice husky from disuse.

“Of course. My mistake,” he replied, his sculpted features and intelligent eyes giving nothing away. “I’ve met your father, and please, I mean this as no disrespect to him, but you hardly resemble my only experience with a small-town doctor.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” she said, trying to get her brain and mouth working in sync as she stepped out of his way. “Please, come in. And call me Amy.”

As he walked past her, she noticed that he smelled as good as he looked. So much for her theory on over-thirty single men, personal hygiene and blind dates.

She led him into the living room—not that there was much leading to be done. The front door opened into the room without so much as a half wall to divide the space. New beige carpet covered the floor, and the walls had been painted a pleasing eggshell, but there was only so much a person could do in the week and a half she’d been in town. Decorating hadn’t been high on her list of priorities, so the black leather sofa and matching chair she’d moved with her, along with a couple of nondescript tables, sat abandoned against the walls.

“I’m afraid I haven’t settled in much,” she explained as she rubbed her hands against the chill of the November air that entered along with her date for the evening. “Can I get you something to drink?”

“No, thank you.”

In what she was sure was a case of extremely good manners, he barely glanced at her plain-but-tidy home. His personal scrutiny made her mildly uncomfortable, as if she wanted to check her dress for wrinkles or her shoes for an errant piece of tissue. But despite her reaction, his expression never wavered from the polite interest he’d shown from the first.

“I’ll just get my coat, then,” she said, motioning toward the tiny closet near the front door.

As she grasped the wooden hanger, she felt his presence behind her. An unexpected chill slithered up her spine. She couldn’t blame this reaction on the uncommonly cold weather.

“You’re shivering,” he said, taking the wool-and-cashmere blend coat from her hands. “Allow me.”

His warmth enveloped her as she slid her arms into the sleek, cool satin lining. Unfortunately, she still felt just as shivery. She wrapped her arms around herself. “I suppose I’m not adjusting well to autumn. Except for this cold snap, the temperatures have been above normal.”

“How can you, in Texas? Warm one day, cold the next.” He made the comment without derision, just as polite as ever. So far, he was the perfect date, even when she’d resorted to talking about the weather to hide her unexpected reaction to him.

“You’re not from the Lone Star State?” she asked as she belted her coat. She stepped around him to retrieve her purse and gloves from the living room.

“Actually, I’m from Dallas, so as a native, I can indulge in a little mild criticism.”

Amy smiled at his rationale. “I know what you mean. We can say what we want, but just let some Yankee belittle our state…”

Grayson Phillips smiled. “Shall we go? I understand you’d like to show off a bit for the folks in Austin.”

Amy stopped beside the front door, her mouth gaping once again. “Who told you that?” Her lips thinned as she frowned. “No, let me guess. You’ve been talking to my father.”

“I saw him at the bank yesterday.”

“The man talks entirely too much.”

“He’s a charmer.”

“He’s a meddling old…never mind.” Amy squared her shoulders and clasped her purse to her side. “I’m sorry if you feel railroaded into this. I’d understand if you didn’t want to go.”

“On the contrary, Dr. Amy,” he said, a flash of real amusement in his silvery eyes. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

Great looks and humor, too. As he graciously escorted her toward his luxury car, Amy realized that was why Grayson Phillips really was the best blind date in Texas.

DR. AMY WHEATLEY WASN’T quite what he’d expected, Gray acknowledged as he pulled out of Ranger Springs onto the state highway. For one thing, no one had mentioned she was beautiful. Descriptions he’d heard had focused on her achievements in high school, college and medical school rather than her shining dark brown hair and lively blue eyes. Her father, and the rest of the community, for that matter, were very proud of their small-town girl.

Not just beautiful, though. She was also feminine and gave the impression of being slightly vulnerable. She’d obviously been trying to be as polite as he when he’d first arrived at her door. But during the few minutes they’d gotten acquainted at her home, she’d shown a wide range of emotions, from surprise to shyness to exasperation over her father’s meddling. While Gray had perfected the control he exerted over his own emotions and expressions, he appreciated Amy’s honest responses.

“I’ve heard a little about your new facility in town. What exactly do you produce?” she asked.

“Basically, Grayson Industries makes high-tech surveillance devices. Our main market is government as opposed to consumers who want to listen to what their neighbors are saying.”

He risked a glance at her. She appeared surprised, then perplexed. “You mean my neighbors could be eavesdropping on me? Or, worse yet, the government?”

Gray chuckled. “The technology has been around for years, so we’re not providing any less privacy to the average citizen than already exists. My company simply makes smaller, more flexible instruments for specialty surveillance situations.”

“You mean like spies?”

Gray smiled. He’d heard this all before, but he knew Amy’s worries were real to her. “There really aren’t too many James Bonds out there.”

“No, but isn’t industrial espionage on the rise?”

“It’s getting more sophisticated, but with computers and the Internet, more violations are occurring via online theft than through listening devices.”

“Hmm.” She paused as she looked at the fading sunset. “Still, doesn’t it worry you that your products will enable some criminals to steal secrets?”

“No more than if I made modems that allowed some hacker to access the Internet,” he answered, negotiating a series of turns as they traveled north through the rolling hills. “I’m not trying to justify what I do, because I don’t see anything wrong with developing the technology to have an edge over those who would like to harm our country.”

“It’s kind of creepy, though, don’t you think?”

“Not when you invented it,” he said, smiling at her through the gloom of near darkness. “Don’t worry, though. I promise I didn’t plant any bugs in your house, nor will I sit outside in an unmarked van with an earplug and a big antenna.”

“That’s comforting—I think,” she said, partially in jest, he assumed. “So, what brought you to Ranger Springs?”

“Available labor, a good cost of living and quality schools. We’d been in Dallas for several years, but the competition for skilled workers up there is crazy. I decided I could take advantage of the labor market down here and train our employees in the skills they needed. Most of our engineers and research staff relocated after visiting the Hill Country.”

“Did you bring them down to visit when the blue-bonnets and Indian paintbrush were blooming?”

“Of course,” he answered with a grin. Few areas of the world surpassed the beauty of the Texas Hill Country in the spring, when the blue and red flowers dotting the hills resembled an Impressionist’s canvas. When birds soared through the sky and filled the day with song, and the air smelled so fresh and clear a person wanted to join in the singing.

Darkness descended as Gray drove through the rural rolling hills, then into the traffic of Dripping Springs and the outskirts of Austin. Inside the car, he felt isolated from the world, enveloped in the scent of Amy’s light perfume and the softness of her voice. She would have a great bedside manner, he told himself, then stopped his wayward thought. He wasn’t getting anywhere near Amy Wheatley’s bed, nor she near his. One date with any woman was enough. Two and they started expecting commitment. A month, and they were picking out rings.

He wasn’t about to make the same mistake twice, especially now when he had everything he’d worked to achieve.

He knew the hotel where the fund-raiser was taking place, so he pulled into valet parking with time to spare.

“Ready to knock them dead?”

“I’m supposed to save lives, not take them,” she quipped as the attendant opened her car door.

Gray waited until they passed through the glass doors before he leaned close to her ear. “Believe me, you, in that dress, could cause a few heart attacks.”

She laughed and shook her head. “Grayson Phillips, has anyone ever told you you’re a smooth-talking devil?”

How could he answer that question without admitting his greatest strength, and perhaps his biggest weakness? He’d learned at a young age that most people—especially his successful parents—weren’t interested in how he really felt. Outward appearances made all the difference in the world. So he’d learned to become what people expected, and later, what they wanted. Most women wanted a suave, sophisticated date who focused all his attention on them.

So he simply smiled and answered, “That sounds like something your father would say.”

She cocked her head and wrinkled her brow. “You know, you’re right. Maybe there’s more of him in me than I realized.”

“We are a product of our environment,” he said, thinking of his own divorced parents and his ex-wife. What had he learned from those experiences? The notion sobered him, and he put on another smile to cover his darker thoughts.

With a light touch to Amy’s arm, he stopped her in the wide, carpeted hallway leading to the ballroom. “Are you ready?”

“Unless I can pull a good reason out of a hat in the next five seconds.”

“Sorry, but I’m not wearing a hat.”

“Then I guess we’ll have to go in.”

He took a step forward, but her touch on his forearm stopped him. “Gray, I want to thank you again for being my escort this evening. I could have come alone, but my father—”

“Wanted you to have a good time.” Gray smiled, genuinely this time. “I understand.”

He slipped her coat off her shoulders and handed it to the coat-check attendant outside the ballroom door. “You can introduce me to all your colleagues. I promise not to bore them with technical jargon and high-tech market analysis. I’ll try to be on my most charming behavior.”

“Oh,” she said, looking him over in a very feminine manner that made his insides tighten and his chest expand, “I never doubted you for a moment.”




Chapter Two


Despite the tension she’d experienced upon entering the room full of medical professionals from central Texas, Amy had a good time during the dinner dance. The entertainment, a reunited band from the early seventies, had been upbeat and humorous. And the man who’d been beside her all evening had been a major factor in making her relax and enjoy the fund-raiser.

The only truly tense moment she’d experienced was when she and Gray literally bumped into Maryanne and her husband during a rousing Texas two-step. Amy hadn’t seen her former classmate for two years. Their last encounter had been at Maryanne’s society wedding to a middle-aged surgeon, Dr. Paul Bridges. Amy hadn’t wanted to attend, but in the end, the invitation was just too intriguing to pass up.

Sure enough, Maryanne had outdone herself. The event had been spectacular. The bride was stunning in a dress whose cost probably equaled Amy’s entire student loan for medical school. And Maryanne hadn’t gloated too much about achieving everything she’d ever desired. Just a few subtle hints about Amy’s single status and group practice.

She sighed. At least tonight they hadn’t had time to “chat.”

“What’s wrong?” Gray asked as they waited for his car to be brought around.

“Just thinking about old times,” she answered with a smile. “You know how it is when you haven’t seen someone in a while.”

“And she still looks stunning,” he added.

Amy blinked. “Did you think so?”

Gray chuckled. “Yes, but in a rather contrived manner. I doubt that particular shade of blond occurs in nature.” His gaze became more direct, his mood more serious. “She’s not as naturally beautiful as you.”

She felt her cheeks heat and her heart flutter. “Thank you for the kind words, but being outrageous isn’t part of your date duties for the evening.”

“I thought I was being rather sedate in my compliments,” he said as he tipped the parking attendant. “I may be a smooth-talking devil, as you said earlier, but I’m also a man who knows a lovely woman when he sees one.”

She eased inside the car, pulling her coat tight against the chill. “I’m flattered.”

He took her hand and placed a kiss right above her knuckles. His silvery, hooded eyes sparkled in the reflected light of the hotel portico. “I’m glad.”

Amy hadn’t felt this giddy from a man’s attentions in a long, long time. Too long. She simply hadn’t had the time or the inclination to start a meaningful relationship in what seemed like ages.

No wonder she found Gray’s flattery and old-fashioned gallantry so appealing. That, combined with his reputation as the perfect date, was enough to get any woman’s attention.

Gray pulled the Lexus into the crawl of downtown Austin traffic. “The night’s still fairly young. Would you enjoy going to one of my favorite spots for an after-dinner drink and a little light jazz?”

Amy thought about it for a moment. She hadn’t planned on anything other than the fund-raiser, but Gray was right; the clock on the dash read only ten-thirty. It wasn’t like her father was waiting in the doorway, tapping his foot. As a matter of fact, he’d probably be tickled pink if she stayed out half the night!

Besides, Gray had been a gracious and charming date; the least she could do was accompany him to a favorite haunt. She didn’t know how often he traveled the distance from Ranger Springs to Austin for an evening out.

“Sure. That sounds lovely.”

Gray nodded, then guided the car through frequent stops and unending road construction. Amy lost track of where they were heading, letting her head fall back and relax against the cool leather. She could get used to this type of luxury…but not on a small-town doctor’s salary. In another two years, if she was careful, she might upgrade to a small SUV, but not anything this fancy. Mainly, she needed reliable transportation. Her father still believed in making house calls when absolutely necessary.

Strange how different the practice of medicine was here than in Fort Worth. Oh, the ailments would be the same, Amy knew. But the attitude, the atmosphere, couldn’t be more opposite. She welcomed the sense of community and the support of her father to help her make the transition. She only hoped she was up to the task. She was a good doctor; she knew her abilities and training wouldn’t let her down. But would she be accepted on her own, or forever compared to her father?

“You look pensive,” Gray observed, breaking into her thoughts.

“I was just thinking about my practice. I’ll start seeing patients on Monday. We arranged the schedule at the clinic so I’ve had a few days to unpack and get settled in. I’m looking forward to helping out my father, but I also know I’ll be compared to him.”

“That’s inevitable, I suppose, but I’m sure most people will welcome you as both a doctor and a returning member of the community.”

“I hope so. I’ve been away a long time.”

“Are you afraid they’ll still think of you as a child?”

Amy nodded. “That’s part of it. The other issues are what any doctor faces—style, reputation and personality.”

“I can’t imagine you’ll have any problem there,” Gray said, giving her an appreciative, thorough perusal as he stopped at a red light.

Amy warmed at both his compliment and the attention. “Thank you. Of course, you don’t know a thing about my medical skills.”

“I have faith that you’re a good doctor. From what I’ve heard about your father, he wouldn’t have just anyone as a partner.”

“I hope you’re right.”

“I usually am,” he said with a smile as he pulled the car back into traffic.

“All that and modest too,” Amy said, then chuckled.

Gray reached over and squeezed her hand. “You’ll be fine.”

“I hope so. I really want to make a future here, and I’d like the community to accept me before my hair turns as gray as my father’s.”

Gray chuckled. “I don’t think you have anything to worry about, at least not for a few dozen years.”

“I’m pushing thirty,” Amy announced. Besides the big birthday coming up, she’d recently begun to hear her biological clock ticking. Of course, she wasn’t about to mention that tidbit to her father. He was already insisting that she find a nice man and settle down. If he started thinking about grandkids, she’d never get a moment’s peace!

“And I’ve already seen my thirty-fourth. I suppose the difference is that I don’t feel a lot of pressure from anyone to do anything I don’t want to do.”

“Lucky you,” Amy said with a little chuckle. “If you ever get lonely for unsolicited advice, just let me know. I’ll send my father over to harass you.”

Gray laughed as he pulled into the parking lot of a two-story brick building with few markings on the outside. A neon beer sign lighted one window and an old-fashioned painted sign swung over the sidewalk in the light, cool breeze.

“I know it doesn’t look like much,” he said as he shut off the engine, “but trust me. The music is great.”

She did trust him, Amy realized as she pulled her coat tight and swung her legs out of the Lexus. She’d only known the man a few hours, yet already they’d learned they had several things in common: both were only children; both loved springtime in the Hill Country; both preferred to eat their salad with their meal instead of finishing it first. Not a bad start for a blind date.

The interior of the club was dark and slightly smoky, but not overwhelmingly so. Gray took her hand as they weaved through small tables and chairs, most occupied by an eclectic crowd of college students, upscale patrons and serious middle-age jazz aficionados. His hand was warm and strong, and she felt her heart rate increase ever so slightly from just a simple touch.

He found a half-circle booth of red tufted vinyl that had seen better days. All part of the ambiance, she supposed. When Gray stopped and let his hand ease away, she felt the absence of his touch more than she would have thought. After all, they weren’t really dating. He’d only touched her a few times, and very casually. Still, she wished she could have rested her hand in his for a while longer.

“Would you like me to take your coat?” he asked.

“Thank you.” He helped her ease it off her shoulders and arms, then folded it across the back of the booth. Again, she felt his nearness, warmth and strength.

“What would you like to drink? The service here isn’t great, so I usually go up to the bar to order.”

“I think a Baileys would be nice.”

Gray nodded. “I’ll be right back.”

Amy scooted into the booth, then debated how far to move over. If she didn’t go very far in the half circle, Gray might think she wanted him to sit very close beside her on the outside. On the other hand, if she sat near the edge, he’d be forced to sit across from her. They’d have to shout to be heard over the music. Not a good choice.

In the end, she moved to the middle of the red vinyl bench, adjusted the hem of her icy blue dress, and put a welcoming smile on her face.

“Two Baileys,” he announced, placing them on the table with the finesse of the best waiter. He noticed her position in the booth, smiled and eased around to the left so he sat close, but not crowded against her.

“Thanks.”

Gray settled back against the cushions. “From what you said earlier, I get the impression your father tends to give his advice rather freely.”

Amy laughed. “You could say that. Don’t get me wrong—he’s a great dad. He’s just extremely opinionated and believes the world would work a whole lot better if everyone followed his orders.”

“And I take it your orders included returning to your hometown.”

“No,” Amy said, frowning as she remembered their conversations while she was in medical school. “He never insisted I join him at the clinic. He just had a lot of advice on how a good doctor practiced medicine.”

“That’s good, I suppose. He has a lot of experience.”

“Yes, but that’s not the opinion he’s been giving me for the last three years.”

“Oh?”

Amy blushed. She shouldn’t tell Gray this, but he was so easy to talk to, she found the words slipping out. “He wants me to find a nice man and settle down.” Amy sipped her drink, then paused. “Not that I meant anything by that remark. I mean, just because you got railroaded into taking me to this fund-raiser, I don’t want you to think…Oh, I’m not explaining this well, am I?”

Gray chuckled. “No explanation needed. I know how parents can be. I’ve heard the same thing from mine a time or two, especially before…”

“Before what?” Amy asked, leaning forward.

He shrugged. “Before my marriage.”

“Oh.” No one had mentioned he was married. Or had been married. Her father wouldn’t fix her up with a married man.

“After the divorce, they quit pestering me.”

“I see.” She wanted to say more, but the band chose that moment to start a new set. The deep thrumming of strings reverberated through the club, followed by the wail of a saxophone. When she looked at Gray, she saw him watching the band, but a slight frown creased his forehead.

THE BAND TOOK A BREAK, leaving the club in sudden silence. Gray was surprised to discover he wanted to explain more about what he’d admitted—and the implications of being single. He rarely talked about the divorce, and never discussed the reasons for the breakup. Somehow, with Amy, the words seem to come naturally.

On most blind dates, the women had done most of the talking. Perhaps because she was a doctor and accustomed to listening to her patients, Amy had a quiet, observant manner he found refreshing.

“I didn’t mean to drop the fact I’m divorced on you like that,” he said. “It’s been four years, so I don’t think about my marital status much.”

“If you date as much as I’ve heard, I suspect you remember that you’re single,” she said with a cheeky grin.

“I don’t date all that much,” he defended, “and yes, I’m definitely single—and planning on staying that way.”

“Mmm. Messy divorce?”

“Messy marriage.”

“Oops. Sorry.”

“Don’t be. I’m better off now than ever. But the experience did leave me with a rather bitter taste for tying the knot again.”

“I understand. I’m certainly not ready to rush into anything either. I’m going to have my hands full getting the clinic back to full speed as quickly as possible.”

Gray hesitated, but Amy had left the perfect opening for him to explain something. One of his rules. He liked her, more than anyone he’d met recently, but she needed to understand how he operated so she wouldn’t be hurt.

“Amy, I’ve really had a great time tonight, and I think you’re a wonderful person. I don’t usually say this outright, but I’m going to in this case.” He drew in a fortifying breath. “I don’t know what you’ve heard about me around town, but I have an unspoken rule.”

“About dating?”

“Yes. You see, I never have a second date with anyone.”

She sat up, her eyes showing surprise. “Never?”

“Not since I moved to Ranger Springs.”

“So that’s why you’ve dated so many different women.”

“Whatever Thelma and Joyce arrange,” he said, taking another sip of his drink.

“Thelma and Joyce? But I thought my father arranged this evening.”

Gray shrugged. “Maybe he did, through my unofficial personal dating service.”

“He’s in cahoots with those two women.”

Gray smiled at Amy’s accusing words, softened by the love shining from her eyes and the fondness evident in her voice. She’d complained earlier about her father’s meddling, but she obviously cared for him very much. “Perhaps.”

“I’m going to have a serious talk with the man.”

Gray shook his head. “Not on my account. Like I said, I’ve really enjoyed this evening.” He certainly didn’t want to be the cause of any problems between Amy and her father.

“But you want me to know there won’t be a repeat.”

He jerked his thoughts away from Amy’s relationship with her father to the one she’d never have with him. “Yes. You see, I realized early on that if I dated any woman more than once, the gossipmongers would jump on the news. And then if I didn’t date another one but once, some perfectly nice woman would get her feelings hurt.”

“That’s very thoughtful of you,” Amy said carefully, “but doesn’t having only one date with any woman cramp your style?”

Gray laughed. “Not really. Like I said, I’m busy with the move of my company, hiring and training employees and expanding our markets. I don’t have that much time for a social life.”

He hadn’t had one in so long, as a matter of fact, he rarely missed the quiet, shared evenings, dinner conversations with someone well known, the feel of a woman’s warm flesh after making love. At least he told himself he didn’t miss those things. If he thought about how long he’d been abstinent—nearly two years—he might not be as cheerful.

His last relationship, a comfortable, no-pressure affair with an equally career-minded lawyer he’d known socially for years, had ended before he’d decided to move from Dallas. He hadn’t been serious about the woman; he’d just fallen into the mutually satisfying affair after his divorce.

Strange, but Amy’s assertions she wasn’t looking for a long-term relationship, especially one with a husband and children, echoed his own position now. He wasn’t looking for the complications a family would bring…and yet, the longer he lived in this close-knit community, the less objectionable he found the idea…in theory.

Gray mentally shook his head. He had no business thinking along those lines. Especially not while he was out on his one date with Amy Wheatley.

“So what do you do when Thelma and Joyce fix you up? Do you turn them down?”

“Well, I haven’t so far, but I may have to start. They do seem to be getting a little persistent in their efforts.”

“Poor Gray,” Amy said with a smile. “So many women, so little time.”

A problem many men would gladly accept, he knew. And yet he found the process tedious. Boring. All those words some men applied to their permanent relationship. To married life.

He had to stop thinking along those lines. He was still in performance mode, still giving yet another woman a perfect date.

Gray grabbed her glass and gave his best effort at acting the role, a ferociously teasing frown. “One more remark like that and you won’t get another drink.”

“One more outrageous revelation from you and I’m going to need another drink.” She held up her hand. “Seriously, a soft drink would be great.”

He laughed as he left the booth, but sobered upon approaching the bar. Amy was a unique woman. He’d really enjoyed this evening, despite the fact he’d started thinking about certain taboo subjects. Despite the fact she made him want things that weren’t in his immediate future.

Perhaps it was best that they wouldn’t be repeating the experience.

“ONE MORE DANCE TO close out the evening?” he asked as she listened to the soulful sounds.

One more chance to stand close to this one-date bachelor, to tempt herself with what couldn’t happen? They’d danced at the fund-raiser, but in a more structured setting and style. Here, on the minuscule dance floor, Amy had a feeling Gray would let his guard down just a little.

One more chance to tempt herself? “Why not?”

He led her onto the parquet floor, pulling her closer than he had at the fancy hotel. One hand closed warmly over hers, while the other slid down her back to rest low on her waist. She felt the heat and imprint of his fingers through the silk of her dress, just as she felt his chest brush against hers. Their legs moved in rhythm, with only his pants and her skirt touching.

For just a moment, she longed for him to pull her close, until there was no polite distance between them. Until she could feel the beating of his heart against her breast and experience the sensation of his hot breath on her neck.

But such romantic, physical contact would be ludicrous. She wasn’t into one-night stands, and Gray had been honest about his dating rules.

When the song ended, she let out a sigh. Someone slowly turned up the lights until she could see Gray’s pensive expression. But then, as he always seemed to do, he schooled his features into a neutral, pleasant expression as he gazed down at her.

Then her stomach rumbled.

Not just a tiny little sound, but a clearly discernible signal that she was hungry. Starved, in fact.

Gray chuckled. “I did mention earlier that you were eating like a bird.”

“Prime rib isn’t my favorite, and even if it were, I’m not sure I could have forced down another bite of the shoe leather we were served.”

“To tell you the truth, I could use some food myself.” He raised his arm and glanced at his watch. “It’s after midnight, so that means we can officially have breakfast.”

“Officially?”

“Absolutely.”

“I suppose you know another great place.”

“Of course,” he replied with a grin. The glint in his silvery eyes told her the breakfast spot would be as unusual as his choice of nightclubs.

Amy smiled as he led her off the dance floor. They had no future together, but apparently their one-time date wasn’t quite finished yet.

GRAY PULLED THE LEXUS to a stop and cut the headlamps. He didn’t need artificial light to see the structure in front of him. He’d been coming here for years. This place was one of the biggest reasons he’d decided to move to the Hill Country.

He would have had some explaining to do, except that Amy had gone to sleep almost as soon as they’d settled into the car. He’d been free to drive as he wished, setting up what he hoped would be a good surprise. He’d never taken another woman to this place, but if he was to have only one date with Amy, he wanted her to spend just a little time here.

In the bucket seat across from him, she stirred. Beneath her open coat, he noticed how the pale blue silk dress stretched over her breasts as she shifted in the seat. Amy Wheatley was not only an intelligent, beautiful woman, but she was witty and pleasant. More than pleasant, she was desirable.

He wasn’t going to act on his desire, though. One date was all he’d have with Amy, no matter how much he’d like to begin a relationship. If he allowed himself to get involved with her, eventually one of them would get hurt. He wasn’t going to get married again, and the good citizens of Ranger Springs would expect him to ask Dr. Ambrose Wheatley for his daughter’s hand before long.

Gray looked out the windshield to the darkness. How often he’d come here, looking for answers. Tonight there were no answers to this unexpected dilemma.

He knew Amy wasn’t the kind of woman who wanted a clandestine affair, which is all either of them could afford. They couldn’t openly flaunt a sexual relationship, or even sneak around like a couple of teenagers for long. Not in a small town. Her reputation as a competent physician would suffer, and his as an upstanding businessman would be null and void.

No, there wasn’t any way they could have a relationship. For tonight, however, they could have a great breakfast. He’d take her home, explain again that he didn’t do second dates and say that he’d see her around town.

Such a bland statement of the potential he sensed for a mature, mutually satisfying relationship between two adults.

“Gray?”

He schooled his features, then turned to his passenger. “We’re here.”

“Where?” She sat up and rubbed her eyes. “Oh, it looks like they’re closed.”

Gray raised his key ring. “Not to me.”

“You have a key to a restaurant?” Her sexy voice sounded sleepy and confused—a potent combination.

Gray smiled, anticipating her surprise when she discovered where they were. “Come on.”

He walked around the Lexus while Amy belted her coat and gathered her purse. When she swung her legs out of the car, he again admired her long, shapely calves and narrow feet, set off by high heels and pale, glittery hose.

“Gray, where are we?”

He placed his hand under her elbow. The gravel crunched under their impractical shoes as they walked to the porch. Overhead, a billion stars competed with the half moon to light the crisp night air.

“I know you were probably expecting a restaurant, but in all honesty, I make the best breakfast you’ll find anywhere.”

Amy stopped, her eyes showing some lingering, sleep-induced confusion. “Where are we?”

“At my cabin on Lake Buchanan,” he said carefully.

She looked around at the rural setting. “I thought we’d be going to something like a diner in Austin.”

“My omelettes are much better.”

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath of the crisp, clear air. “This is much nicer. No rowdy teenagers. No smokers in the next booth.”

“I’m glad you like it. The view is beautiful during the day.” Not that he’d bring her back here to see it, he reminded himself. Again, he felt a hollow ache when he realized he and Amy wouldn’t be dating. “My uncle used to bring me here when I was a kid. I bought it from him when he couldn’t keep it up any longer.”

“You’re a very nice man,” she said, her voice soft and throaty in the quiet, cold night.

Chills ran up his spine, but had nothing to do with the weather and everything to do with the woman standing before him. “Thank you, but my motives were also selfish. I love coming here to relax.”

Amy shrugged, hugging her arms around her. “Well, since I need to find another compliment you’ll accept, I could also mention that you’re a good dancer.”

“That one I’ll take, on the condition I have an equally talented partner,” he said, slipping his hand beneath her elbow as he guided her toward the cabin. “I’m also a damn good cook.”

“I’ll be the judge of that,” she said just before her tummy rumbled again.




Chapter Three


Amy watched the pale streak of lavender widen and turn to dusky pink as Gray pulled his Lexus to a stop in front of her house. Her brain told her she was a fully grown woman with every right to come home whenever she chose, but the little girl who’d grown up in Ranger Springs whispered that she was going to get in trouble. She half expected to see her father come out of the clinic with a cup of coffee in one hand and a disapproving frown on his face.

Not now, she reminded herself. As long as she was out “finding herself a man,” he’d probably offer them both a cup of coffee, a big grin on his lined, dear face.

“We managed to make a night and a morning of it,” she said softly after he’d turned off the engine and the quiet of dawn surrounded them. Omelettes had turned into coffee and more conversation in the cozy cabin, until suddenly they’d both realized the drive back to Ranger Springs was well over an hour—and dawn was approaching.

“Are you sorry?”

“No, not at all. I had a wonderful time.”

He reached for her hand and Amy’s heart began to race. “I’ve never taken anyone there before.”

“Then I’m honored.”

“I can’t take you there again.”

“I know,” she whispered. She actually felt an ache in the region of her heart, but she knew the condition wasn’t medical. No, this was much more emotional. Too emotional for either of them.

“I’ve told you my rule against dating anyone twice, but when I’m alone with you, the restriction sounds foolish.”

“It’s your life, Gray. You have to make your own rules.”

His fingers caressed the back of her hand. “But that’s just it, Amy. As far as my personal life goes, I feel like I’m not making my own rules. I’m marching to the drums of a certain two ladies.”

Amy smiled. She knew exactly what he meant. Her father was insistent, but she could tell him no. She didn’t have to worry about acceptance. Even if she didn’t settle down, her dad would still love her. Gray obviously wanted social acceptance, and wasn’t sure how his refusal to cooperate with Thelma and Joyce would be perceived by the citizens of Ranger Springs.

“Thelma and Joyce can be quite demanding,” Amy sympathized.

“Don’t I know it,” Gray said, shaking his head. “Sometimes I wish…”

“What?”

He paused, and she wondered if he would answer. Perhaps she shouldn’t have asked, but he was so easy to talk to.

“That I’d never put myself out there as someone looking for a date,” he finally said. “This all started when I needed to attend a function in San Antonio and made an innocent comment about being too busy with my business to ask anyone. Before I knew it, my social calendar was posted on the courthouse wall.”

Amy laughed at his exaggeration. “We don’t have a courthouse.”

“Then they probably had it printed as an insert to the menu at the Four Square Café. That seems to be where they do most of their plotting.”

Amy silently agreed. The local café had been a meeting place for two generations. “You make them sound diabolical.”

Gray shook his head. “No, really, they’re sweet, wonderful ladies. They’ve just taken me on as their favorite cause.”

“Well, now that I’m back in town, perhaps they’ll ease up on you. My father will no doubt be looking all over the place for someone to marry his little girl. I’m sure he’ll get Thelma and Joyce to help him.”

Amy didn’t mention that they’d probably already discussed her and Gray in the context of happily-ever-after. Gray apparently hadn’t taken their one date to that next, albeit huge, step. She wasn’t about to bring up that subject! Perhaps in this one case, ignorance of the degree of matchmaking was bliss.

Gray assumed a serious expression and brought her hand to his lips. “My sympathies,” he said, perfectly deadpan.

Amy laughed until tears came to her eyes. “Oh, Gray, you really are the perfect blind date. No wonder those ladies are so good at fixing you up.”

“I’m going to have to do something soon, because after tonight, no other date will measure up.”

Amy broke eye contact, embarrassed at his praise, even if he did tend to exaggerate. “Thank you. The feeling is mutual.”

Out on the road, a noisy truck rolled past. Amy glanced over her shoulder, then groaned as the vehicle slowed to a stop. Joyce’s nephew, Lester Boggs, peered through the rosy dawn at Gray’s Lexus. Even from a distance of several dozen yards, she imagined she could see his pig eyes squinting to see inside the car.

“We’ve been caught,” she whispered, turning back to Gray as the old pickup slowly rumbled past. Lester worked at the feed store. By lunchtime, everyone would know Gray was parked in her driveway at dawn.

Gray watched the truck drive away, his expression thoughtful. Pensive. She wondered what he might be thinking. Did he resent being “caught” in her driveway? Was he worried about his own reputation?

“Want to really give them something to talk about?” he finally asked.

“No!” Besides, Lester was already gone.

“You’re right. Kissing you would be a bad idea.”

Her eyes widened, her heart thumped in her chest, as he leaned closer. “A terrible idea.”

“One of the worst ones I’ve had in the past twelve hours or so.”

“You’re so right,” she barely managed to whisper before his lips covered hers.

She’d been kissed before. Dozens of times. Perhaps never under just these circumstances, though. That might account for the way her heart was racing, the way her mind spun out of control as his lips sealed over hers and his tongue swirled with wicked, dark promises. Or maybe she was just exhausted. That might account for how she felt dizzy and short of breath. But all she knew for sure was that kissing Grayson Phillips was the most exciting, the most risky, event in her recent history. She responded with pent-up desire and unknown longing, until they were both breathing fast and shallow when the kiss ended.

She sighed as he pulled away, then slowly opened her lids. Pale light made his silvery eyes even more luminous. The early hour gave new meaning to “five o’clock shadow” on his lean cheeks and sculpted chin. She wanted to run her fingers through his salt-and-pepper hair, and pull his deliciously talented mouth back to hers.

“We won’t go out again,” he said softly, with just a tinge of regret, as his gaze caressed her face.

“I know. You were clear.”

“It’s the only way. Neither one of us wants the kind of relationship this town would expect from two upstanding citizens.”

“You’re right.” Her voice sounded a bit thin, as though she didn’t quite believe her own words. But Gray was correct; there was no future for them. At least, not now. Maybe later, after they were more established…If they didn’t find someone else in the meantime.

No, that was ridiculous. She wasn’t looking for anyone. Not now, when she’d already discovered the one man who took her breath away. How could another man compare to Gray? And what about his romantic future? Gray would have to make his own decisions.

“I’d better go in,” she said as he gazed at her in silence.

“I know.” He ran his hand along her hair, brushing her cheek and lightly tracing the shell of her ear. “I had a wonderful time tonight, Dr. Amy Wheatley.”

“And I’m very glad you were my blind date,” she whispered, the ache in her chest intensifying. Before she did or said something extremely stupid, she pulled her coat tight around her, grabbed her purse, and ran for the safety of her tiny house.

SHRUGGING OUT OF HIS tux jacket, Gray focused his attention on the sky stretching one hundred eighty degrees before him.

The dawn sky was still shaded in pinks and corals. A beautiful morning, but he felt as isolated and alone as this house.

Strange. He’d never felt lonely in this house before. Before last night.

He’d built on a hill overlooking a winding valley that was bisected by a stream each spring and fall. A narrow ribbon of water remained, courtesy of last week’s rain. This past summer, when the house had been newly finished, the stream had been as dry as the rest of the Texas landscape.

Gray had designed this house, with the help of a San Antonio architect, to reflect his new life. Clean and devoid of distractions, they’d included both natural materials and technological marvels. The wood, glass and rock structure rose from the hill as though it had been here for years.

That’s the way Gray wanted to be perceived. Permanent, stable, unobtrusive. He’d wanted to blend into the community, putting down a strong foundation for years to come.

For his company, Gray reminded himself. Some men built to pass along their legacy to their child. He had no children, no wife, to inherit. Grayson Industries was as close as he might ever have to a family. His choice, at least for the time being, he acknowledged. He had nothing against family…children in concept. But he didn’t want a wife. He didn’t want someone to dangle the promise of happily-ever-after in front of him, then jerk it away just when he’d begun to believe.

Gray jammed his hands into his trouser pockets as a headache threatened. Why had Connie’s betrayal hurt so much? Why was it still coloring his perception of his future? He wasn’t sure; he wasn’t a psychologist or psychiatrist, nor did he intend to visit one. Hell, he wasn’t even sure his attitude was a problem.

His desire for Dr. Amy Wheatley…now that was a problem.

With a sigh, he headed upstairs for his bedroom. He’d been up for twenty-four hours. With a little luck and a couple of aspirin, he’d be able to sleep a few hours before going back to the office. He just hoped he didn’t dream of a certain brunette with intelligent blue eyes, soft smiles and even softer lips. He’d had his time with Amy Wheatley. Now he had to face his days without her, because she definitely believed in happily ever after.

“THE BEST DEFENSE IS A good offense,” Amy told herself as she pulled her car to a stop in front of Joyce’s beauty shop later that morning. Instead of falling into bed and sleeping her Saturday away, she’d called as soon as the shop opened and made an appointment. She wasn’t in dire need of a trim, but she desperately needed to put out her own version of last night’s events so rumors didn’t get totally out of hand.

Lester Boggs had been a braggart in high school; Amy had no reason to think he’d reformed in the eleven years she’d been away from town. He’d waste no time passing along the news that she’d come in at dawn with Grayson Phillips.

Sleepy and anxious, she took a lesson from Gray and pasted a convincing smile on her face as she pushed open the wood door with a single diamond glass pane and walked inside. The smell of perming solution hit her so hard she blinked tears from her eyes. The salon she’d used in Fort Worth had better ventilation, but certainly not as reliable a system of gossip.

“Good morning, ladies,” she said cheerfully as she peeled off her jacket and threw it over one of the aqua-and-chrome chairs.

“Well, good morning,” Joyce said, looking up from her appointment, an older lady Amy didn’t recognize. “I’ll be finished in just a moment.”

Amy waved her hand. “No problem. I have all day.” She looked around the beauty shop, which in no way could be called a styling salon. Joyce hadn’t updated her furnishings or her hair color in a quarter century, not that anyone in town was complaining. Everyone liked the beautician just the way she was—meddling and all.

Olive, who tended bar nights at Schultze’s Road-house, looked up from her magazine, two-dozen pink perming rods bobbing with the movement. “Even after that late night?” she asked with a touch of humor in her husky voice.

“We did have a wonderful time at the fundraiser,” Amy said cheerfully. “It’s always nice to support a good cause.”

“Or spend time with a good-looking man,” Olive added.

“Watch out,” Joyce warned. “I think Olive’s jealous that she’s too old to catch Grayson Phillips’s attention.”

“Hmm,” the permed bartender replied, going back to True Confessions.

“Still,” Joyce said, giving the older lady in the chair a final spritz of hair spray, “you must have had a good time. I heard you really made a night of it.”

“You know,” Amy said, looking casually through the magazines stacked on the beige Formica end table, “that banquet food was pretty bad. We ended up going out for something later and just got to talking. You know how time slips by.”

“When you’re having fun,” Olive finished.

“Yes, that too.” Amy pretended to study a recent edition of Good Housekeeping. “Not that either one of us is looking for anything serious. I mean, we’ll probably see each other around town, but I doubt we’ll make a repeat of last evening.” Which is just what he’d told her—only in more definitive terms. Just what she’d agreed would be in their best interests.

“What a pity,” Joyce said, tucking her customer’s check inside one of the many drawers at her workstation. “I’ll bet you two made a very attractive couple.”

Amy shrugged. “Gray’s a real gentleman, but I got the impression he’s very dedicated to his business.”

“You know what they say about all work and no play,” Olive warned from over the dog-eared top of True Confessions.

“I wouldn’t worry. I’m sure he’ll have plenty of dates in the future. There must be a few young ladies who haven’t gone out with him.”

Even as she made the glib comment, she felt a pang in the area of her heart. Gray would have other dates, even if he no longer participated in the Ranger Springs version of “The Dating Game.” But she wouldn’t be one of them.

ON MONDAY MORNING, the Wheatley Medical Clinic opened for the first time with a new doctor wearing a white coat. Her dad had surprised her with the gift as she arrived that morning. Tears had filled her eyes as she traced the embroidered script: “Dr. Amy Wheatley” above “Wheatley Medical Clinic.” She’d owned other lab coats, but none given to her by her gruff-but-loving Daddy. None delivered with a strong hug and words of praise from father to daughter.

As Gladys Metzier, their nurse and receptionist, unlocked the door, Amy felt more nervous flutters than she had during her residency. After all, these were her neighbors, former classmates and teachers, and friends. There would be new faces—people who’d moved to the area and children that had been born—but she’d still know most of her patients by name.

Her father was around for consultations, although Amy thought he spent most of his time reading the newspaper and chatting with Gladys. She’d been with her dad for about nine years, after his previous nurse had retired. Gladys knew everyone who came in, maintained all the records and ordered all their supplies. Amy was eternally grateful to have such a dependable helper.

Patients weren’t filling up the seats of the waiting room. Perhaps word hadn’t gotten out yet that the clinic was open, or maybe this was just a slow time. With the usual spat of colds and flu, Amy had anticipated more patients. Her father had kept reduced hours since his fall, often closing early when he couldn’t bear his weight on his ankle any longer.

Her eleven o’clock appointment, Wanda Gresham, arrived a few minutes early. However, when Amy entered the exam room, the woman didn’t appear all that eager to see the doctor.

“We’ve been coming to your father for years,” the woman announced. “He doesn’t seem too old to practice medicine.”

Amy smiled. She understood patients’ fears over seeing an unknown doctor. “He’s still recovering from his fall, and being on his feet for a long time is difficult. I hope you’ll give me a chance to show that I’m equally qualified to provide care for you and your family.”

Mrs. Gresham harrumphed. There was no other description of the sound. “I hope your father is going to be around for a while. My husband is being treated for high blood pressure and poor circulation.”

“I’ll be glad to continue your husband’s care, Mrs. Gresham. Does he have an appointment?”

“Not yet. I wanted to come in and meet you first.”

So, perhaps Mrs. Gresham’s unspecified knee joint pain wasn’t as acute as she’d led Gladys to believe. Amy smiled in a reassuring manner. “I’ll look forward to meeting Mr. Gresham when he comes in for his checkup.”

The woman narrowed her eyes. “You are single, aren’t you?”

“Yes, I am.”

“You’re also very young.”

“Almost thirty. I believe I went to school with one of your sons.”

Mrs. Gresham harrumphed again. “I’d feel a lot more comfortable if your father could continue to see my husband.”

Amy found her reassuring smile harder to maintain. “I’ll consult with my father, of course, but I’ll do my best to provide good medical care for you and your family.”

The negative remarks stayed with her long after the exam ended and her patient departed, though. She’d expected resistance, but for a patient to bring up her age and unmarried status…Well, she simply hadn’t expected both those concerns.

What effect could her marital situation have on her patients? She decided to seek Gladys’s advice. The woman knew every one of their patients in detail, far more than charts would indicate.

“Mrs. Gresham is convinced every woman she sees is out to steal her husband away from her,” the nurse advised.

“Does he have a roving eye?” Not to mention roving hands, which Amy had also encountered in her practice among certain uncivilized individuals.

“Are you kidding? Mr. Gresham is kept on a pretty tight leash. I don’t know what he did when he was younger, but ever since I’ve known them, he hasn’t strayed.”

“Then why is his wife so convinced he’s going to look at other women.”

Gladys shrugged. “Who knows? All I can say is be careful. That man needs medical treatment. He’s a prime candidate for a stroke.”

“Thanks, Gladys.” Amy sighed and walked toward her dad’s office—which was her office now, too. She was still having trouble thinking of the clinic and the desk as also her domain.

A blast of cold, fresh air swirled through the waiting room as Ambrose Wheatley hobbled inside.

“Good morning, ladies,” he greeted for the second time that day. He’d left before the clinic opened to run an errand. Amy suspected he’d treated himself to a sweet roll and coffee at the café.

“Hi, Daddy,” Amy said, trying to make her voice and expression cheerful.

“What’s wrong, Amy girl? Not an emergency?”

“No, just one Mrs. Gresham who thinks I’m too young and unattached to treat her husband.”

Her dad shook his head. “She’ll come around. Some of these people just need a little time.”

Time. Well, now that she was back in town to stay, Amy suspected she’d have plenty of that commodity. Especially since she wouldn’t be going out on any more dates with Grayson Phillips.

AMY HAD DECIDED TO take Wednesday afternoons off so she had some free time during the week to conduct personal business or just spend some time away from the clinic. She hadn’t had much time to start any hobbies in Forth Worth. Maybe now that she’d settled down, she could pursue some of her other interests. She’d love to look up some of her old friends, although she knew many of them had married and moved away. Looking up friends hardly qualified as a hobby.

First, she needed to find something interesting besides medicine. Immediately, Gray’s image popped into her head. Now there was a man who could become a full-time hobby.

She shook off the unproductive thoughts as she pushed open the door of the Four Square Café. She had a craving for one of their turkey club sandwiches and French fries. Thelma and Joyce were just getting up from their usual chairs when Amy walked past to take a seat.

“Good afternoon, ladies.”

“Amy! How nice to see you,” Thelma greeted. The newspaper owner and editor had been nice enough to run an article on Amy’s return to town and work at the clinic.

Joyce reached out and fluffed her hair. “How’s that new cut coming?”

“Fine. I’ve gotten used to the layering around my face and I really like it.”

“Good. It makes you look a little older. More sophisticated,” Joyce added.

“I wish you’d convince some of my patients that I’m plenty old to practice medicine.”

“Oh, they’ll come around.”

“That’s what my father says, but I’m worried. I’ve had two women this week who hinted they didn’t want their husbands treated by a young, single doctor.”

“Old habits, my dear,” Thelma answered. “Some of these people are very entrenched in their thinking.”

“I’m just concerned. I’m sure things will work out.”

“Of course they will,” Joyce advised.

“Have you heard from our Mr. Phillips?” Thelma asked.

“No, I haven’t.” And she hadn’t expected to, either. Not that she hadn’t remembered him every night as she’d slipped between the cool sheets of her lonely bed.

“I thought perhaps he might have asked you out again.”

“No. Why did you think so?”

“Because we mentioned a certain other young lady who needed a date for a wonderful arts event in San Marcus, and he claimed he was unavailable. For Saturday night! Can’t imagine why unless he had a previous engagement,” the editor said, her expression questioning.

Amy shrugged. “Not with me.” But perhaps she knew why. Perhaps Gray had gotten tired of the constant demand for blind dates. Maybe after talking it though on their date, he’d decided to take a stand against the two matchmakers.

“We’ll have to check back with him.”

“Maybe he just doesn’t want to date,” Amy suggested.

“Nonsense.”

“What if he isn’t looking? Maybe he’s happy being single.” The idea of Gray with another woman caused a different type of pain near her heart. She wouldn’t call it jealousy, because she had no claim upon his time or affections. But she did recognize the potential for problems. She absolutely couldn’t start thinking about “what ifs” where Gray was concerned.

“Nonsense,” Joyce said. “Men just think they’re happy single. It’s up to women to convince them otherwise.”

Amy smiled and shook her head at their obvious rigid thinking on the subject of single men. “Well, good luck, ladies. I’ve had my one date with Grayson Phillips.”

The two older ladies jerked to attention. “One date? What do you mean by that?” Thelma asked.

Oops. Amy knew she’d slipped up. She was certain Gray didn’t want anyone else to know his unwritten rule of dating. She wasn’t about to give away his secrets. “I meant that I don’t think he’ll ask me out again. We had a good time, but I don’t have any more events to attend in the near future. And surely he’s a very busy man.”

Thelma narrowed her eyes in thought, and Joyce appeared to be scheming. Before they could come up with more questions, Amy hurried to an empty table.

ON FRIDAY AFTERNOON, two men showed up without an appointment. One worked at Grayson Industries; the other was the boss.

Amy had to take a few seconds to school her features and lower her pulse before she approached them. She hadn’t seen Gray since she’d bolted from his car early Saturday morning. She’d even tried telling herself, in the dark hours of the night, that he wasn’t as appealing as she’d remembered. She’d been wrong. His black knit shirt defined his impressive chest and accented his flat stomach and lean hips. A leather aviator-style jacket was thrown casually across one of the reception area chairs.

“Gray?” Amy asked as she walked past the half-walled reception area. “What are you doing here? Are you ill?” He certainly didn’t appear to be ailing. He looked…wonderful.

“No,” he said, his gaze taking in every detail from her newly trimmed hair to her slightly rumpled lab coat. “I brought one of my employees, Steve Curtis. He slipped while lifting a box and hurt his back.”

Thankfully, her father wasn’t here at the moment to see his daughter stumble through this seemingly innocent meeting. Amy motioned for Gladys to come over.

“Would you take our patient into Exam One and get him a gown?” With a startled look, Steve followed Gladys out of the waiting room.

Of course, Amy realized a moment later, she was now alone with Gray. Had that been her subconscious intention? She wanted to say no, but how could she when the attraction was as strong as ever?

“Well, I’d better take a look at him. Umm, as soon as he’s had a chance to get into the gown.” She paused, her eyes hungry from the sight of Gray. He was dressed in business casual, but he looked even better than he had in a tuxedo. “Will you stay?” she asked, her voice sounding breathless and not at all professional, “So I can give you an update on his condition?”

“I’ll be here.” His gaze told her he’d be waiting impatiently.

Her pulse started racing again and she felt her cheeks heat with a blush. She nodded in response, embarrassed by her reaction, unwilling to trust her voice. She should have been thinking of her patient, but all that she could remember for one moment was how Gray’s kiss had sent her running for safety.

Resisting the urge to run once again, she grasped her stethoscope and hurried to her patient. After a knock on the closed door, she took a calming breath and stepped inside.

The young man in her exam room had changed into a gown, and was sitting on the padded table. Amy went through a series of questions and had him carefully move so she could determine the extent of his injury. She soon realized Steve wasn’t in extreme pain, as she’d sometimes seen from lifting accidents. Oh, there was discomfort, but hardly an emergency situation requiring immediate care.

She also discovered he was a bit amazed that the boss had taken him to the doctor, instead of advising the young man to drive himself to the clinic after work.

Interesting.

Either Gray was the most considerate, concerned boss she’d ever encountered, or he had another reason for coming to the clinic. Like seeing her, perhaps?

Interesting.

She wrote a prescription for painkillers, advised Steve not to drive while taking the medicine and told him to schedule a follow-up visit for next week.

Then she went back to the waiting room to find out why Gray had taken such a personal interest in his employee. Or if there might be another reason he was pacing the room instead of running his successful business.




Chapter Four


Gray shifted impatiently on the outdated chairs in the clinic’s waiting room. How long did it take to look at one slightly strained back? More importantly, how long would Amy be cloistered in the exam room with the young, muscular stock room employee?





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