Read His Perfect Woman (Harlequin Superromance) Online

Authors: Kay Stockham

Tags: #Contemporary, #General, #Romance, #Fiction, #Bachelors, #Breast

His Perfect Woman (Harlequin Superromance) (11 page)

BOOK: His Perfect Woman (Harlequin Superromance)
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W
EDNESDAY EVENING
Melissa pulled on her shoes to go for a run, a poor attempt to take her mind off her problems and the humiliation of having to face Bryan after everything that had happened. What was she going to do?

She and Bryan spent their time at the practice avoiding each other and the awkwardness between them was growing. What she wasn't sure of was why Bryan felt he owed it to her father to talk to her. Employers weren't supposed to get that involved with their employees' personal lives. Doctors should care for others and Bryan used to be a playmate, but that was no reason to team up with her dad against her.

She groaned in frustration, locked up the house and walked down the street, her pace increasing as she went in a vain attempt to burn off some excess anxiety. The humid air had her clothes sticking to her skin before she made it to the end of the block, but the saunalike mugginess felt good after being in the air-conditioning all day.

She continued on past the high school where the football team practiced and used her worry over what to do to propel her faster. Who had time to take things slow? She certainly didn't.

“You have another run-in with Mrs. McCleary?” Bryan asked from behind her.

She stumbled and had to alter her stride to keep from falling on her face. Turning, she glanced behind her to make sure her hearing wasn't playing tricks on her, and sure enough, there he was. Bryan's thickly muscled arms pumped in sync with hers, his broad chest bare and glistening with sweat.

After their argument on Monday evening, they'd fallen into a routine, that of Bryan working the back of the practice, her working the front. When their paths did cross, it was always
about a patient, always brief and to the point, and always layered with courtesy that had nothing to do with breasts or making love or even coffins.

“What are you doing here?” She huffed slightly, breathless, which angered her even more. Bryan wasn't winded at all.

“Same as you—running off some demons.”

They jogged side by side for several blocks, Bryan thankfully silent, and rounded the corner where the courthouse park came into view.

“First to the center fountain?”

She hesitated for a long moment, then remembered all the challenges issued during those long summer days growing up. Why not? Running hard meant no talking. She shrugged.
“Go!”

Bryan watched as Melissa took off with a burst of speed. She had a power behind her stride that any runner would envy. All the more impressive given her illness and whatever residual effects she suffered.

He increased his pace, realized he had to go even faster to catch her and pushed hard to edge her out at the last moment. They both slowed, gasping, and he bent with his hands on his knees, staring at Melissa in amazement because she grinned from ear to ear. Quite a change from the office.

“Oh, wow. I haven't done that in ages. That felt good!”

That it had. Almost as good as—he shut his mind off to where it was headed in relation to
her
and smiled back. “Too bad you didn't stand a chance of winning.”

Her laughter filled the air and a couple old men playing chess under a shade tree looked their way, then went back to their game.

“Ha! You barely beat me. And, well, after all, you
are
my boss.”

He straightened, enjoying her change of mood, wanting to try again to talk about that evening at the B and B, but unable to figure out a way to bring it into the conversation without sounding forced or—worse—ruin her good mood since it was the first he'd seen in days. “You did not let me win.”

“If you say so.”

Bryan took a couple of threatening steps in her direction only to stop when she began jogging in place. “Ready to go again?”

He was ready to go, all right.

 

B
Y
F
RIDAY
things were looking up. The last patient had just left, and this time when she locked the door it wasn't out of exhausted desperation, but with the knowledge that her first week was over and—she could handle this.

After their run she and Bryan had gone their separate ways, and at work the next day she'd found herself shaking her head more than once at the antics of some of Bryan's female patients. And at him. Bryan enjoyed the attention the women gave him whether they were ninety or nine. The flirting, the smiles—everyone enjoyed playing with Taylorsville's Most Eligible Bachelor.

She shook her head at the drama, glad she was able to view it as the comedic forum it was, desperate to ignore the twinges inside her that resembled jealousy. She was not jealous.

“I'm going to the new Chinese place to get some dinner. You hungry? My treat. You can go with me and eat there, or I'll get it to go and bring it here before we work on the fund-raiser. What do you say?” Bryan asked from the other side of the reception's half wall. “Either way I'd like to celebrate.”

Did she want to be seen in public with Bryan after what had happened at the B and B? “Celebrate what?”

“You. It's been a long, hard week full of problems and trials, but you're still here and the desk is visible. Come on, you in?” He grinned his wicked grin. “You need to replace some of the carbs you lost running this week and build up for next time.”

Next time? Running with him had unintentionally become a habit in the evenings. If doing so two evenings in a row counted as a “habit.” Neither of them had said a word about joining up Thursday evening at a specific time, but sure enough, as she'd rounded the corner of Tiger Drive leading to the high school, Bryan had been crossing the street behind her, their strides easily matching.

“Well?”

Considering the alternative was an empty house and walls that had a tendency to close in on her, Chinese sounded wonderful. “I'm in. Since you're buying,” she clarified.

His grin widened. “Any special requests?”

“Surprise me.”

“Ah, an adventurous woman. I like it.”

She laughed softly and shook her head, determined the extra little
thump
her heart made at his response was normal. The man had flirting down to an art form, and she had to remind herself—often—that it was Bryan's nature, nothing to be taken seriously. At least not when it came to her.

“Wait. You mentioned dropping off the old printer to be repaired earlier. Any chance you might pick up a large pad of art paper? I'd like to sketch out a spreadsheet before attempting to use Excel.”

“You got it. Be right back.” He turned, then paused. “Lock up behind me okay? I don't want you here with the doors unlocked.”

“Yessir,” she countered, saluting. “You know, you're as bad
as my dad. Nothing major ever happens here, but I know to always keep the doors locked and do. Quit worrying.”

“Even if it doesn't happen here, you never know what crazies are out there.”

Melissa followed him down the hall while he gathered up the broken printer and left the office via the back door. Once she'd dutifully locked it, she retraced her steps and finished the filing on her desk, finalized the payments and made sure they coincided with the insurance forms and had just printed the list of patient files she needed to pull for Monday when someone began banging on the front door.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

M
ELISSA GASPED
,
startled by the loud noise. The blinds were pulled, but she knew it wasn't Bryan. He'd use his key or at least identify himself. Especially after their conversation.

The pounding had started off strong but grew weaker. Lower?

She ran for the door, hearing broken sobs on the other side. Regardless of the heart-wrenching noise, though, her dad's warnings sounded in her head and she peeked through the blind. Sure enough, a woman stood outside, her car sitting sideways in front of the glass door. No one else looked to be around, and Melissa fumbled with the lock.

“Help me. Please…”

“Shh, it's okay.” She knelt beside her in the doorway. “You're okay. Let's get you in here and I'll call the doctor.”

Melissa helped the woman to her feet and supported her long enough to get her to the closest chair. She got her seated, took in her swollen face and the bruises on her arm in the shape of fingers, and the sight had her running to relock the door before she called Bryan.

Voice mail. She swallowed a groan. “Bryan, it's me—uh, Melissa. You need to come back to the office right away. You have an emergency patient and I—” she turned her back and lowered her voice “—think she might have been beaten.” She
hung up and hurried over to the woman. “What's your name? Can you tell me what happened?”

The young woman shook her head, tears rolling down her cheeks. “Wh-where's the doctor?”

“He'll be here soon. I'm going to go call the hospital and get—”

“No. No hospital. The doctor can f-fix me. He's…he's done it before.”

Her heart stilled. “Is your name Anna?” A sobbing nod was her answer. “Anna, please, I need to call the squad. I called Dr. Booker, but he might not get my message right away, and I don't know how to help you. I'm not a nurse.”

“No. I just n-need the doctor.”

Melissa brushed the girl's hair away from her face, careful to stay clear of the blood. She looked so familiar. “Anna…” Realization dawned, a flash of memory, that of big eyes and a ponytail, a bright smile. “Anna Pritchard? Macy Morgan's daughter?”

“Y-yeah. Who are you?”

“I'm Melissa York. When I was in college I used to work at the school as a teacher's aid for Mrs. Evans. You were in her class.”

The teenager sniffled, her bleary gaze sharpening for a moment before pain dulled it again. “Yeah…I remember you.”

Melissa heard a noise at the end of the hall, the sound of the back door being unlocked and opened.
Bryan
.

“We're up front!”

Bryan ran into the waiting area. “Who's the—Anna.”

The girl wouldn't look at him. Bryan knelt beside her and Melissa caught her breath when she saw his expression. Bryan might be a player, but in that instant she saw how kind, how compassionate, how caring he really was.

“Come on, sweetheart. Let's get you to the exam room.”

Her heart in her throat, Melissa followed them slowly.

“I h-had another accident,” Anna said as Bryan settled her on the table.

“Save it, Anna. This was no accident.”

The girl sniffled. “He's just…it's been so hard. He lost his job.”

“That's no excuse to hit you.”

“He—he was angry and yelling, and I backed up and tripped.”

“Don't make excuses.” Bryan's eyebrows pulled low. “That only makes it worse.”

“But I did!”

“After he shoved you?”

Her face flushed. “He got mad because I broke something his mom g-gave him.” She lifted her hand and gingerly touched the bruise on her cheek, wincing. “Do you… Could you give me some samples again? I—I only work part-time and I don't have any insurance.” She lowered her head. “I'm sorry. I'm sorry to be such a bother when I can't… If you don't want me to come here anymore—”

“I want you to come anytime you need help, Anna. Regardless of whether you can pay.”

Bryan continued to talk to the girl while Melissa retrieved supplies and bandages and helped where she could. Once he'd checked Anna over thoroughly, Bryan took a step back and smiled grimly. “I'll go get the meds from the closet. Hang tight, I'll be right back.” Walking toward Melissa, his gaze met and held hers meaningfully. By her side, he paused. “See if you can talk to her?”

Melissa nodded, intimidated by the enormity of the request. How could she get through to Anna when Bryan and
her dad couldn't? She moved over and sat beside the girl. “Bryan's right, you know. You deserve better, Anna.” Melissa lifted her hand and smoothed the girl's hair back from her face, remembering her as she used to be. Now her eyes were filled with tears, the smile gone. Amazing how time had changed them both.

“It was an—”

“Don't. I'm not buying it, either. He hit you. He
hurt
you, and you're letting him get away with it by defending him. This isn't the girl I remember, Anna.
Why?

“Because…because I love him.”

“What about you?” She waited until the teenager looked up, confusion on her features. “What about you?” she repeated more sternly. “Do you love yourself enough to protect yourself?”

She wiped her nose. “He…he always says he's sorry.”

“Saying you're sorry afterward doesn't change—”

“He hasn't always been like this! And I'm
not
leaving him, no matter what you say, and if you and the doctor keep on at me, then…I won't come back.”

She looked like she meant it, too. And the next time Anna's boyfriend beat her she might have broken bones, internal injuries. She could die from lack of treatment. Anna's life was at stake, just as Bryan had said.

“I won't say anything else except this.” She nudged Anna until the girl reluctantly met her gaze. “Anna, love is meant to be patient and kind. It shouldn't hurt. Crying from a broken heart because you've fallen for someone unsuitable is one thing, crying because he
breaks you
another. If nothing else, try to remember that, okay? And when you're ready, know that you can come see me or Bryan and we'll do what we can to help you help yourself.”

 

N
EITHER OF THEM
were in the mood to work after Anna left. Bryan hadn't stopped for food, hadn't had time to purchase the art paper, so instead they agreed to call it a day and regroup the following morning instead.

Fifteen minutes later they met up on Oak Street. By silent agreement they continued to jog, their strides matching, their rhythm synchronizing perfectly. No words, no glares. Just a good kind of companionship with no expectations.

Bryan found himself looking at Melissa instead of where he was going. At her worried expression, the way she held her head high, her shoulders back but tight. They jogged a mile or so in companionable silence. The act slowly eased the stress and tension of the day and bit by bit, her shoulders lowered as she relaxed.

“You hungry?”

A nod of her head was his answer. Veering off what had become their typical path, they continued on until he could sense her tiring, her body protesting its lack of food.

“Hot dog or hamburger?” The dairy bar was up ahead. Not exactly healthy, but it was better than nothing. “I said I'd buy you dinner, remember?”

That brought a smile to her lips. “The nitrates aren't good for—oh, what the heck. A hot dog. With
lots
of mustard.”

A hundred feet or so away from the building, they slowed to a walk and took their time cooling down. The picnic tables nearby were crowded with families and teens, but while he stood in line to place their order, Melissa snagged them a bench in a prime location overlooking the Ohio River.

For the longest time they sat there and watched the boats, listened to the teens discuss their drama with overly expressive gestures. A breeze blew, carrying with it the heady scent of late-blooming roses, the musty smell of damp earth and old
wood. The sun sank lower and lower into the multihued sky and still they sat there, unmoving. Not talking.

Melissa shivered. He knew he ought to get her up and back home to change out of her sweat-dampened clothes, but instead he positioned his arm along the back of the bench and scooted closer to share his heat. “Much as I hate to say it, we'd probably better head home. It's getting late.”

“It's peaceful here, don't you think?”

“Beautiful,” he murmured, not taking his eyes off her.

“I remember coming here for picnics with my mom,” she continued softly, focused on the water, but unseeing. “She'd bring a blanket and let me pick a spot, and I'd walk the levy stairs all the way to the top because I didn't want to spread the blanket at the bottom.” Her lips curled up at the corners and she laughed, the sound husky and warm and full of love. “Sometimes we had to sit with our legs spread out to keep our food from rolling down the hill.”

He smiled at the image, fighting the urge to find a blanket and picnic basket and re-create the memory for her. Instead he sat beside her, silent, willing to watch over her while the sky turned dark and the moon rose. She told him bits and pieces of her time with her mom, growing up in Taylorsville, going to the county fair he'd always missed because he had to go home to Boston to begin school.

Bryan ignored the curious glances shot their way by the workers when the dairy bar closed for the night and turned out the lights. The raised eyebrows of the parents who packed up their families and left in their minivans. The teens walked in groups, crowding the sidewalks and roughhousing on the grass. Another hour passed and then all was quiet, more peaceful than ever. Every blink of her eyelashes more beautiful.

Warning bells rang in his head, but he ignored them and
tried to figure out what it was about her that drew him. Melissa was different. Unlike the women in town chasing after him because of the stupid titles or the prestige of marrying a doctor. Different, because she didn't look at him and see money or looks or any of those shallow things. But what did she see? He wasn't so sure he wanted to know. What if all he ever was to her was Booger Boy or Bang 'em Booker?

Melissa shivered again and Bryan found himself touching her, his hand on her shoulder and upper arm, rubbing. Warming. Her soft skin drew him like moths to a light that couldn't be dimmed. She was that light. Melissa had that inner essence some people had, indistinguishable, an aura of grace.

He'd spent many an evening with beautiful women. Dinner, dancing, partying. Lounging around in bed or else performing sexual romps that would leave the most adventurous women gasping. This was a first for him. A run, a hot dog and the river. Companionship and friendship that meant much more than satisfying his baser desires. Definitely a first and infinitely more attractive.

“Bryan, I—” She broke off the moment she turned her head and saw him watching her. He saw her expression change from memory-filled pleasure to panic-stricken fear.

Melissa sucked in a breathy gasp and something—a whimper?—escaped next. The sound burned through him. One moment he thought of how well they'd do if he'd just leave well enough alone, and the next his head lowered toward hers until she jumped up and scrambled away from him.

“Th-thanks for dinner.”

He watched her hurry away, the streetlights over her head highlighting that golden glow even more. A police cruiser approached, and once the driver spotted Melissa, it slowed.
Bryan's eyes narrowed when he heard Nathan Taylor call out to her, asking if she needed a ride. Melissa glanced at Bryan, then crossed in front of the cruiser and got in. Bryan remained where he was, watching, and fearing the jealousy ripping his gut to shreds.

 

“Y
OU LOOK LIKE
something Nam chewed up and spit out.”

Bryan glared at Joe's mocking reference to his stray-turned-pet and kept dribbling. “You ever going to own up to your loss and fix my shower? I did deliver your daughter free of charge.”

“Quite a baby gift.” Joe's grin widened. “Thanks.”

He made his move and growled again when Joe managed to snag the ball from beneath his hand. Bryan ran after him, jumping a split second too late to keep the ball out of the hoop.

“Crap!”

“Rumor has it Nathan drove Melissa home last night after she was seen in the park with you. That have anything to do with your less-than-stellar mood?”

“Lay off, Joe.”

“Change your mind yet?”

“About what?”

“Mel.”

Bryan shook his head with a glare. “She's not for me.”

“What, she's not pretty enough?”

“Play ball.”

“Nice enough? One of those women you can trust when you aren't around to keep an eye on her?”

“Leave the matchmaking to the old biddies and start the play already.”

Joe tossed the basketball at him so fast and hard he
wasn't prepared. It hit his stomach like a fist, taking the air out of his lungs.

“Guess Hal could be a problem. He sure doesn't seem to like you none.”

“That wouldn't stop me.”

“Then what?”

He began to dribble, the steady
thump-thump-thump
doing nothing to soothe his frustration. No way would he tell Joe his fears of her cancer returning, so he settled on a different fact. “She's afraid of me. She pulls away anytime I get close.”

Joe was in a defensive position, but he straightened at the words. “Seriously?”

Bryan scowled at him but nodded. “There's a lot of baggage there, and some of it I don't understand.” He watched his friend turn thoughtful and hoped Joe might comment. He didn't. “What, no advice?”

“Thought you wanted to play ball?”

And with that the game began again.

 

S
ATURDAY AFTERNOON
Melissa arrived at Bryan's practice bleary-eyed and dragging from her sleepless night. Nathan had driven her home, clearly not liking that she'd been alone in the darkened park even though she'd been with Bryan. The protectiveness Nathan displayed might've been nice under the right circumstances, but she knew it had more to do with Nathan following her father's example where Bryan was concerned.

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