Practice Makes Perfect (11 page)

Paige glanced at the clock. Ian’s day should have been long over. “Did you have a delivery here?”

“No, I came because I was worried about Anne and Sean.”

“You’re a nice guy.” She started toward the desk.

“Paige.” He snagged her arm. “How did you figure this out?”

“Anne’s mother-in-law was feeding Sean cereal with honey. It was the honey.” She smiled again. “I ran across a case of honey food poisoning when I was an intern. It was so odd, it stuck with me, but I didn’t make the connection here at first, because I thought the baby was only on breast milk.”

“So your experience really paid off.”

“Of course.” She gave him a sideways glance. Gray eyes, set off by his slate-colored shirt, twinkled back at her. “What?”

He shrugged. The tease was back. “Oh, nothing. Just looks like having the best doctor on staff saved the day.”

“Don’t press your luck, Ian.”

He squeezed her arm. “Go talk to the pediatrician, Dr. Lifesaver.” He headed down the hall whistling, and Paige watched him till he disappeared.

o0o

DON’T PRESS your luck
.

Ian tried to remember Paige’s warning as, once again, he and Scalpel approached her backyard. But he’d had to come. He could still see her blue eyes sparkling with excitement when she’d figured out the diagnosis. That kind of dedication and joy was more attractive than the sexiest fashion model. It spoke to something deep inside him. All the reasoning in the world couldn’t convince him to stay away from her.

At least she wasn’t swimming alone. The pool area was quiet. Her house lights were on, but he guessed she was in the yard. It had been ninety degrees today, and the temperature hadn’t dropped much. Over the fence, he saw her. She was staring out at the trees in the back of her property. Her hands were braced on the wooden fence; the whole area was lit by several citronella candles that rimmed the perimeter. Opening the gate, he unleashed the dog and whispered, “Okay, Scalpel, do your thing.”

Glad to be free of restraint, Scalpel scampered in as Ian called out, “Hel-lo.”

She turned as they crossed to her. When he got closer, he sighed inwardly. He didn’t expect this.

“I might have guessed you’d come,” she said.

Would she have put on the skimpy hot-pink bikini if she’d known for sure?

Before he could comment, she glanced down at the dog.

Scalpel stared up at her adoringly.

“He brought you a present.”

Paige bent over and took the sack out of Scalpel’s mouth. She scratched behind the dog’s ears enthusiastically. “What’d you bring me, boy?”

He barked and nuzzled her neck. Ian watched that long, slender neck and wished he’d worn more than the navy swim trunks and T-shirt. Surreptitiously, he lowered the towels he carried to cover his lower half.

Standing, she opened the sack. “Champagne?”

“Saying Cristal is only champagne is like calling Everest a hill.”

“Ah, I see.” Her eyes narrowed on him. “What’s it for?”

“You saved Sean Corriddi’s life today, Paige. I looked up infant botulism on the Net.” He was serious now. “Delayed diagnosis can be fatal, and it’s often misdiagnosed as sudden infant death syndrome.”

Paige shuddered.

“You’ve lost patients, haven’t you?”

She nodded. Her big blue eyes were wide with sadness.

“Me, too.” He nodded to the champagne. “We should celebrate our successes.”

For a moment she studied him, then said, “All right.”

Scalpel barked. Her gaze dropped to the dog. “Ian, what’s he got around his neck?”

“A towel.”

She leaned over and pulled it off him. “Granny’s baby,” along with a decal of a black lab, was stitched across the bottom of a piece of red terry cloth. “Where did you get this?” she asked.

“My mother embroidered one for Scalpel and one for Derek’s dog. She said it looked like she’d never have any human grandbabies so she made these for Scalpel and Slide Rule.”

“Let me guess. Your brother’s an engineer.”

“Close, an architect.”

Paige scanned him “You have your swimsuit on.”

“Yeah, well, just in case you invited me and Scalpel to swim, I thought we should be ready.”

“He’s a regular Mark Spitz, I’ll bet.”

“And Greg Louganis on the diving board.”

Scalpel barked and Paige left to get glasses, shaking her head. Ian had the bottle uncorked by the time she came back out with some strawberries, which she held up. “These bring out the flavor of the bubbly.”

“I know.”

“Of course you would.”

He couldn’t take his eyes off her. She’d put on a white lacy cover-up, but he could still see her curves—more generous than her day clothes revealed.

He poured the Cristal, set the bottle down and raised his glass. “Here’s to successful diagnoses.” He smiled.

She didn’t drink. She just held his gaze. Finally she said, “And to experience. Needed to make those successful diagnoses.”

His heart lightened. She’d forgiven him. Maybe even believed he was right to get her to work at the Center.

They sipped the champagne. It was dry, and the bubbles tickled his nose. “Let’s sit.”

Taking chairs next to each other, they faced the pool. Wordlessly they drank the wine and watched the water. The night was sultry and there were stars out. A sliver of moon cast a mellow glow. It was calming, but somehow sensual. When she bit into a strawberry with white, even teeth, Ian shifted in his chair.

“Tell me about your brother,” she said.

Ian filled her in on Derek’s life. “Rose’s illness came as a shock to us all. Dad felt particularly frustrated by it.”

“It was cancer?”

“Yes, cervical. As a gynecologist, he thought he should be able to do something for her.”

“I’m sorry your family went through that.”

“Me, too. Derek’s all right now. He was over the other night.” Ian stroked Scalpel, who sat at his right. “But he didn’t bring Slide Rule.” The dog whimpered. “She’s Scalpel’s long-time girl.”

“I thought Scalpel was involved with a cocker spaniel.” At Ian’s blank look, she added, “The one who dumped him? So he doesn’t drink anymore?”

“Oh, that was just a fling. Slide Rule’s the love of his life.”

She laughed.

“Did you hear from Jade?” he asked after a while.

Her shoulders stiffened. “Yes, she’s coming home for Nora and Dan’s wedding.”

“Really? She knows them?”

Stiff shoulders became rock rigid. “Yes.”

“How?”

“She grew up here.”

“You seem close to Nora.”

“I am. I’ve worked with some Serenity House girls. She’s a savior to them.”

“Still, how does Jade—”

“Oh, look—a shooting star.”

Ian got the message. Paige didn’t want to share this. He tried a different tack. “Are you close to Jade?”

“I used to be. I haven’t seen her in a while.”

“Why?”

“It’s a long story.”

“I’ve got nothing else to do,” he said.

She shook her head.

“Well, I hope it works out for you.” He reached over and squeezed her hand. She didn’t shake him off or pull away, so he kept their hands entwined. Bathed in moonlight, they drank their champagne.

After a while Paige said, “Jade told me I have to have everything perfect. And she isn’t perfect. That, apparently, has something to do with why she’s been out of touch.”

“Do you? Have to have everything perfect?”

“I don’t think so. I hope not” She waited a moment. “And I’m not unforgiving, Ian.”

“I’m glad to hear that.”

“But I don’t like to be tricked.”

“Or surprised.”

“Promise me something. You won’t ever pull a stunt like that again—something underhanded, something manipulative—to get me to do what you want. It will be hard for me to work with you if I can’t trust you.”

“You can trust me. I won’t do anything like that again. I promise.”

Scalpel rose and moved close to lick their clasped hands. She smiled at the dog, then at Ian. He smiled back. Her lashes shadowed her cheeks.

He wanted to kiss her more than he wanted to breathe.

Don’t press your luck
.

Fortunately the moment was lost when she said, “Okay, guys, how about that swim?”

Scalpel barked, and she stood and whipped off her cover-up. “Last one in the pool’s a rotten egg.”

The dog was at her heels and followed her in with a splash.

Ian just watched them. He guessed he’d lost the game, but damned if he didn’t feel like a winner.

RASCAL’S WAS a dim and quiet bar in the Carlton Hotel, at least until the band started at nine. Frequented by the older crowd, it was a favorite place for business people to meet after work. Tonight Ian had enticed everybody to stop by for a drink to celebrate Marcus’s sixty-fifth birthday, which was tomorrow. No one could refuse his charming plea, Paige included. They’d been here an hour, ordered appetizers and drinks, though most were nursing their first because they were driving.

Around an oval table, Ian argued with Marcus about a new treatment for endometriosis, Cindy and Carol traded stories about their children, and Elliot Emerson was putting the moves on Paige. Big time.

He’s married, you know
.

“Word about your success with Sean Corriddi has spread through Elmwood.” Elliot’s smile was sincere. “I think you’re going to be asked to deliver some kind of paper on the case to the pediatric department.”

Paige perked up, thinking about the tiny boy who responded better every day to treatment. “I’d like that.”

“I’ll mention it to the dean.” Elliot leaned closer. “Maybe you and I can have dinner some time and discuss it.”

Ian’s head snapped up from his conversation with Marcus. He glared at Elliot, then at Paige.

Without missing a beat, Paige said, “I’d love to have dinner. Your wife can join us.”

A very male smile breached Elliot’s lips. “I’m divorced, Paige. It was final six months ago.”

From the corner of her eye, she saw Ian’s surprise.

“I didn’t know.” Paige wished she hadn’t agreed to dinner. Her comment was meant to make him back off.

Not that she didn’t think he was attractive. He was handsome tonight in his pin-striped suit, with his styled hair and animated brown eyes. Very polished and sophisticated, like the men she usually dated.

Quite a contrast to Dr. Cool and Casual in his pressed jeans, open-at-the-throat gauzy white shirt with the sleeves rolled up to reveal tanned, muscular forearms. He’d gone home to let out the dog, had obviously changed clothes, then met them here.

“Happy birthday to you...,” came the chorus of a group of waiters approaching their table.

Marcus said, “Oh, my, how nice of you.”

As the older man blew out candles, Paige’s gaze strayed to Ian’s hands, clasped around a bottle of beer. They were big and supple; it had felt good when he’d held one of hers the other night. She’d dreamed about what they’d feel like on her body....

“Paige, when’s yours?”

She glanced up. Ian was talking to her. “Huh?”

“We’re sharing birth dates. When is yours?”

“September twentieth.”

“Thirty...one, maybe?” Elliot said.

“I’ll be thirty-three.”

“Still a babe.” Elliot smiled at her.

When the band started, he grasped her arm. “Dance with me.”

There really was no way to refuse. “All right. Then I have to leave.”

He was an expert dancer. Holding her close, he spun her around the room. Actually it was fun and made her breathless. When the song ended and another began—a slow one—he didn’t let her go. She saw Ian staring at them. Cindy was talking to him, but his eyes never left her and Elliot.

And his face looked like a thundercloud.

After two more songs, he got up and approached them. “You don’t mind if I dance with Paige, do you, Emerson?” he asked easily. But his eyes were hot.

“Of course not.” Elliot squeezed Paige’s fingers, then let go. As he walked away, Paige caught the male look of challenge that passed between the two men.

Great. Just what she needed.

Before she could comment, Ian swept her into his arms and locked her hand with his; he pulled her closer than was respectable and slid his arm around her back possessively; his cheek nestled in her hair.

Paige wasn’t prepared for the sensation of being plastered against Ian like a lover. The feel and smell of him triggered something in her, something primal.

Holding on to her, he didn’t say anything. And they didn’t move much, just shuffled along the floor. She was encompassed by him; he seemed content to hold her. For the first time in recent memory, she let her feelings guide her actions.

It was a while later that she realized there was another song playing, and she and Ian had drifted to an isolated corner of the room, on a part of the dance floor not visible to anyone in her group. When she drew back and looked up at him, he wore a smug smile. “I like that,” he whispered to her. His hand cruised lazily up and down her back; she’d worn a lightweight rose-colored shell, and she felt the warmth of his touch.

“Wh-what?”

“You lost track of everything.”

“I did no such thing.” She had, of course. “I’m sleepy, is all.”

“Ready for bed?” he asked.

She swallowed hard. A flash of desire hit her, like lightning zipping through the summer sky. She pictured Ian naked. With her. They’d be sweaty and breathing hard. The image was so real it momentarily stunned her. “Ian, I—”

“Oh, hell.”

“What?”

“My pager’s going off.” He reached to his hip and squinted as he tried to read it in the dim light. “I don’t recognize the number.”

Grabbing her hand, he escorted her back to the table. Elliot drew her down next to him. Ian gave his colleague a back-off look, then walked to a quieter place to make his call.

Paige decided she’d be wise to leave. She sat down to finish her drink. She’d just wait till Ian got back, then make her excuses.

A few minutes later he returned, his face ashen. He was fishing in his pocket for his keys.

“Is something wrong?” she asked.

“Yeah. That was my neighbor.” He raised his chin, and his throat worked as if he was swallowing back some emotion. “Scalpel got out of the screened-in porch where I left him.”