CHAPTER 8 #2
“Those color Doppler machines were back-ordered,” one of the doctors said, “but I called in a favor.”
“The Siemens?” another said excitedly. “I thought we wouldn’t see those until at least the end of July.”
“Nope. Being delivered sometime on Tuesday.”
“That’s the best news I’ve heard all week. I’ve heard that those …”
Claire tuned out their conversation, watching out of the corner of her eye as Jake dissected the octopus, peeling off the purplish skin with, of course, the precision of a surgeon.
“Hey, Mark, you going to that conference in DC next month?” Jake asked the man beside him.
“I haven’t decided yet.”
A nod. “I can’t skip that one. I’m holding a seminar on ablation therapy for small-sized tumors.”
“I read your paper. Good stuff. I’m willing to bet using a percutaneous approach will be standard practice in a couple of years.”
“Yup. The advantage of this procedure over surgery is that it provides a minimal approach to cancer therapy. It’s an alternative to standard surgical therapies.” Mark grinned at Jake. “Sorry, man.”
“That technique might not be indicated for treating tumors near major blood vessels. So, I’m not worried. Still plenty for me to do.”
Appetizing dinner conversation. Claire looked across the table, where Brittany engaged in animated conversation with the perfectly put-together wife beside her.
“I love, love, love your engagement ring! Is it from Tiffany’s?”
The woman shook her head. “A jeweler in New York. He does custom work. Stuart and I picked out the stones and designed it ourselves. I can give you his contact info if you wish. He’ll make whatever you want.”
“Really? Oh, my gosh, that would be great! I’ve been planning my wedding since I was eight. The ring I want is a princess cut, with …”
Claire wished she could teleport somewhere else.
Because right now, Ian was fixing her with his stare; she could feel it. She stole a glance his way. Eyes full of amusement, he now cupped a brandy snifter and was slowly bringing it to his lips.
Exactly as he’d done the first time she’d laid eyes on him.
Oh God.
She was getting turned on right here at this table, with nine other people sitting around her.
Heart hammering in her throat, Claire picked up her knife and fork and sawed away at her octopus, cutting it into smaller and smaller pieces. She speared a small roasted potato half, then let it slide back to her plate, deciding it probably tasted like the dreaded octopus.
“You’re not eating,” Jake observed.
She gave him a smile. “Not my favorite,” she admitted. Everyone else’s appetizer looked delicious.
“This is one of their best signature dishes.” He slid a chunk of octopus into his mouth, chewing with obvious enjoyment.
Claire’s stomach clenched; whether from the yuck factor, hunger, her rising irritation with Jake for ordering this for her, or Ian’s piercing gaze, she didn’t know.
She was getting more stressed by the second, and suddenly, she felt an overwhelming need to have a few moments alone.
Maybe some air because every sizzle from the nearby open kitchen seemed to bring a fishy whiff her way.
She pushed back her chair.
Jake’s brows raised. “Where are you going this time?”
She forced a smile. “I left something in the ladies’ room. I’ll be right back.”
Jake’s mouth twisted a little, but he said nothing and returned to devouring his purple cephalopod.
It took everything she had to stroll past Ian again, this time avoiding his gaze. But she felt it as surely as if he had his hands on her.
She turned right and hurried down the corridor, but instead of rounding the corner to go to the restroom, she opened the door to a large balcony and slipped outside.
Bracing her palms against the stone railing, she leaned forward and took several deep breaths, staring at the buildings and the tall, swaying palms below.
How was this happening? Only a few weeks ago, everything was calm and things were going well for her, and now …
between her mother’s illness, Doug cheating on her in the most disgusting way, and dating Jake to please her mother, while Ian seemed to pop up everywhere as if materializing out of her dreams to stir feelings she didn’t need or want … She heard the door open and then close.
She didn’t have to look to know it was Ian. Her hands tightened on the rail, and she felt the stone scrape her fingertips. And damned if she didn’t smell him too, that intoxicating scent of clean soap and him. It was as if her senses were hyperaware when it came to this man.
He drew nearer. She swallowed. Gooseflesh rose all along her arms, and the back of her neck prickled.
“Hello, Penny.” His voice was low, and she had to tense her muscles to suppress a shiver.
He came to stand beside her. She took a deep breath. Or, she tried to because suddenly, she lost the ability to draw in air.
“You found me again.” She didn’t turn to him but looked over at his hands and instantly regretted it. A vision of those long, beautiful fingers on her, in her, sent her pulse skyrocketing and pounding in her throat.
“Funny how that keeps happening, isn’t it? Of all the places to spend a nice evening in Orlando, we end up at the same restaurant.” There was warmth in his voice, along with a trace of amusement. “Almost as if it’s fate.”
He was so close. So very close. If she leaned over just a bit, she would be pressed against him. And, God help her, she wanted it. But he was keeping his distance.
“You didn’t go back to North Dakota.”
“No.”
“You live there, right? Why are you here?”
“In Orlando? I have family here. My brother happens to be in town for a few days, and this is his favorite place to dine when he visits, so we thought we’d catch up and have a nice evening.” He slid his hand to where his pinkie was almost touching hers. “And you just made my evening a lot nicer.”
Her heart fluttered. She pressed her lips together. “I wish I could say the same.”
“You’re not happy to see me?”
She shook her head.
“You wound me.” His hand inched closer. His pinkie stroked hers, a feather-light touch.
Barely a touch, but it sent sparks shooting all the way up to her shoulder, and that pulse, deep inside her, always caused by him, happened again.