Just One Look (6 page)

In as avuncular a manner as he could manage, given his rampaging hormones, he reached over and patted her hand. The feel of her skin seemed to zap him with a gazillion volts of electricity. Heart pounding, he jerked his hand back. His fingers clenched to keep from reaching for her.

In a rush, he said, "The first step in solving any problem is admitting there's a problem. You've done that. So now we can go about finding solutions. I can make a list of some good therapists who specialize in sexual problems."

"Oh, no, Matt. I could do that, but, don't you see? I can't possibly go to one of my colleagues. I can't jeopardize my career in any way. That's why I've never talked to anyone before." She practiced a little deep breathing since it seemed to have such a dramatic effect on short-circuiting his logical thinking.

"Well," he paused and removed his handkerchief from an inside pocket and blotted his forehead. "I can see where that might be a problem. But I'm sure you have nothing to worry about. No one will know that you're seeing a therapist. I'm sure they would maintain patient confidentiality"

"Oh, yes, they would, but you're new to Dallas. You don't know how much like a small town this city is," she lied. "Word would leak out. My secretary would probably find out. So would the staff in any therapist's office. Someone would talk. I can't risk that. I've worked too hard to build my career to have it destroyed like that."

"Well, Jennifer, if you're really worried about that then perhaps you could see someone in Fort Worth."

She shook her head vigorously, almost ready to deliver the coup de grace. "No, that won't work even if I had three hours extra in my day to make the drive over there, spend an hour with a therapist, and drive back. Everyone knows me in Fort Worth too."

Matt blotted his forehead again then put away his handkerchief. "If what you say is true, I'm at a loss as to what to suggest."

"I've given this matter a good deal of thought since our earlier conversation." Jennifer paused and dropped her gaze so he couldn't see the gleam of amusement in her eyes. She hoped he interpreted her action as shyness and uncertainty.

"Yes, have you come up with a plan?"

Have I ever, Jennifer wanted to crow. Instead, she spoke softly so he had to lean closer to hear, "I think so. I thought if you could, shall we say, mentor me, then you could help me overcome this problem."

"You want me to what?" Matt stared at her as if he thought she was insane.

Well, maybe she was, she thought, but she persisted. "Please, keep it down. I don't want everyone in the hotel to hear."

"What do you mean?" He asked, clearly agitated by her suggestion.

"I just mean that if you could help me get in touch with my sexuality, strictly in a therapeutic manner, of course, that you'd be performing a great service, doctor."

"But, Jennifer, that is, Dr. Monroe, what you're asking is, well, it's highly irregular."

"I know, but I just know you can help. And I can't ask anyone else. Oh, please say you'll help me. After all, you're a doctor who's familiar with female sexuality."

"Yes, but not in the way you mean." He shifted uncomfortably on the couch. "I don't think this is a good idea. I mean, what if you have some deep-seated emotional problem that's the root of your inability to, uh. . . ." He shrugged.

"But, I don't. Honestly. If it were something like that I'd know. It's just that I never had the chance to experiment the way other people did in their teens and young adulthood. It all kind of passed me by. Now, because of lack of opportunity, I can't seem to connect. I get all uptight and . . . and," she paused and thought of what Alva constantly complained about and embroidered her plea. "And I seem to have become a workaholic. It gets worse with each month that passes. I realize that life is passing me by. I never have a date, and I've never had a real relationship with a man."

"But, Dr. Monroe, Jennifer, what you're asking me to do is professionally improper."

"Not really, Matt, because I'm not really your patient, am I? Neither of us is committed to anyone so our lives are our own." Jennifer could see by the stubborn set of his mouth that her words weren't swaying him. Damn, she thought, she was going to have to haul out the big guns and see if they had any effect on him.

"Oh, Matt," she quavered, "Please don't turn me away. You're my only hope." She bit the inside of her mouth hard until tears stung her eyes. Then she launched herself into his arms, pressing her breasts to his chest. She managed a gulping kind of sobbing sound. "I'm just so miserable. I can't keep feeling this way. Please, please say you'll help me."

She felt his thundering heartbeat and shuddered for real. He smelled warm and musky and desirable. Maybe this last move hadn't been so smart, she thought, beginning to withdraw from his arms.

Then his arms closed around her. He stroked her hair and whispered, "There, there. It's all right, Jennifer. I'll help you. Don't cry now." For long heavenly minutes, she lay in his arms and absorbed his warmth. He seemed so sincere in his effort to shush her and comfort her that for a moment she felt extremely guilty at her deception.

"Well, well, well, it sure didn't take you long to get to first base." A slurring, drunken voice hiccoughed then spoke again. "You work fast, buddy. When you finish, it's my turn. I'm gonna get her or die trying." Drunken laughter punctuated his statement. "But what a way to go."

Matt tensed, ready to knock Wyman to Oklahoma and back, but Jennifer acted first. She pushed away from Matt's arms. Turning a cold eye on Lucas Wyman, she said, "Go crawl back under your rock, Lucas. Even money can't buy what you want."

"Oh, come on, Dr. Jenny," he taunted. "Why don't you meet me in the hot tub later? I'll show you what you've been missing all this time."

She smiled frostily. "Why certainly, Lucas, as soon as they open a ski resort in Hell."

Wyman laughed loudly and belched before stumbling away.

Jennifer's resolve hardened. "It's men like that who have made me the kind of woman I am."

"I can see where that would make you reticent to get involved with men, but all men aren't like him."

"Oh, I know they aren't. Why, you aren't a bit like that old lecher. You'd never do something to embarrass a woman the way he does." Jennifer remembered clearly how he'd humiliated her, but she suppressed those thoughts. "I'm so glad you're going to help me overcome my inhibitions. You have no idea what this means to me."

"Yes, well, we'll see what can be done. I have some books that I think might help you out. I'll call you Monday and make arrangements to bring them to your office."

Jennifer frowned. "Oh, dear. Couldn't we get started sooner than Monday?"

Matt shifted again. "Well, what did you have in mind."

Jennifer's eyes glittered. The curtain was getting ready to rise on act two. "I wondered if maybe we could meet tomorrow. Both of us will have the day to ourselves. Since you aren't well-established here yet, I bet you don't have any pregnant patients ready to deliver, do you?"

Matt wished he could lie and say yes, but he shook his head in answer to her question. He felt the noose tightening around his neck.

"I thought so. Perhaps you could show me those books in the afternoon? I'll be free around four o'clock if that's all right with you?"

"I guess that will be fine. If you're sure you want to proceed, that is?"

"Oh, yes. Now that I've got your agreement, I wouldn't think of turning back." She pulled one of her cards and a pen from the tiny handbag she carried, scribbled her address on the card, and handed it to him.

"Right." He tried to be as brisk and business-like as possible. "Well, I'll bring the books over, and we can get started."

"Jennifer! So, this is where you've been hiding," Alva called, pushing through the heavy door leading from the ball room.

Jennifer looked up and smiled uncomfortably. Lord, she loved Alva like a sister, but the woman drew every masculine eye. Matt would be slavering over Alva from this moment on. Even her cleavage wouldn't keep him from falling for Alva.

Matt stood as Alva approached. Jennifer slowly rose and stood beside him. She watched him with a jaundiced eye. "Matt, this is my friend Alva Hernandez."

"I'm not just a friend. I'm her best friend." Alva smiled and offered her hand to Matt.

"I'm pleased to meet you, best friend Alva," he said with a grin, relieved that someone had interrupted their intimate conversation. "That's an interesting name you have."

"My mother named me after Thomas Alva Edison. She wanted me to be a scientist and thought a name like that would inspire me to greatness."

"And did it?"

Alva laughed. "Well, I started out in physics but got sidetracked. I'm in computers now. A kind of glorified hacker."

"Sounds interesting," he said.

"Where's Bill?" Jennifer asked, annoyed at their easy rapport.

Alva wrinkled her pretty nose. "He's embroiled in a debate over the best wiggly, crawly thing to put on a fish hook."

"Your friend fishes?" Matt asked, his eyes lighting up.

"Unfortunately, yes. And I see by the glow in your eyes that you do too. Is that how you met Jen?"

Matt's gaze swung to Jennifer. "Why, no, we met in a professional capacity." To Jennifer he said, "I didn't know you fished."

"Yes. My dad, actually, he's my step dad was responsible for getting me interested in fishing when I was in high school."

"Fresh water or salt?"

"Fresh water. I've never been salt water fishing though I've wanted to try it." Darn it. She didn't want to have another reason to like him. She sure as heck didn't want to have anything in common with him. Reluctantly she asked, "How about you?"

"Both. I grew up fishing in the lakes in Michigan. Then when I moved close to Houston, I picked up on salt water fishing since I was so close to Galveston Bay. It's a totally different kind of fishing. You've really got to try it. You'd love it."

"You're from Michigan?" Alva asked. "Why isn't that –."

"Alva," Jennifer interrupted. "Can you come with me to the powder room?" Jennifer gripped her friend's arm.

"Ouch, Jen." Alva rubbed her arm.

"Please, Alva. Now," Jennifer demanded.

"Right now?" Alva asked, looking puzzled.

"Yes, right now. I think I split a seam."

Matt tried not to look. Lord knows, he tried his best, but his eyes wouldn't obey his command. Feverishly, he looked Jennifer over. When he saw no flesh revealed by an open seam, he didn't know whether to feel relieved or disappointed.

"Dr. Penrose," Jennifer said. "Talking to you has been enlightening. Please excuse me for now."

"Certainly. I'll be going anyway," Matt said, feeling that with her departure there was no point in staying any longer. Besides, he didn't think his blood pressure, or the seams in his trousers, could take much more of Jennifer Monroe.

He watched the two women walk away and couldn't help but admire Jennifer's beautiful posture. She stood proud and tall. The skin above her strapless gown seemed luminescent in the soft lighting. He wanted to touch her silky hair again. Shove his hands through the thick blond strands. What was wrong with him? In a professional setting, he never connected with women on the male-female level.

What had he got himself into? He turned to leave. Maybe, it wouldn't be so difficult to get her to come to terms with her problems. She was an intelligent woman. She was used to talking to her patients about sexual problems. So if he approached it as one professional to another, everything would work out fine, he told himself.

* * *

"Okay, we're in the ladies room so come clean," Alva stated, crossing her arms and fixing Jennifer with a stern look. "And don't give me that nonsense about a split seam."

"Gee, sure can't put one over on you, can I?" Jennifer said lightly, trying to do just that.

"No, you can't. So what gives?"

"Nothing. I was stuck talking with Dr. Penrose for the longest time," she said, turning to look in the mirror. She wasted several minutes fluffing her hair. With any luck, Alva would check her own hair style and put some lipstick on and go back to the party.

"Jennifer, I've known you for almost ten years. So tell me. What gives with that gorgeous hunk?"

"Who are you talking about?" Jennifer asked, searching through the tiny handbag she carried for her lipstick and hoping Alva didn't notice the blush on her cheeks.

"Now I know I'm on the right track. You know who I'm talking about. Dr. Tall, Dark, and Handsome that you were being so chummy with."

"We were discussing a case," Jennifer said.

"A case?" Alva threw her hands up. "That does it. Now I know you are completely hopeless. There you were with the most gorgeous man I've seen in a while. Not just good looking, but a guy who positively oozes sex appeal. And you were talking shop? Jennifer Monroe, you need help."

Jennifer's eyes gleamed. "Maybe you're right."

"Of course I'm right. Now I want you to follow up on Dr. Hunk. Call him, ask him to lunch, something." Alva removed her lipstick from her bag.

"As a matter of fact, we're going to get together tomorrow afternoon."

Alva's mouth turned down at the corners. "Let me guess. To discuss a case." She snorted in disgust. "I expect that from you, but I'd think a guy that looks like Matt Penrose would want to do more than discuss a case on his day off."

Alva removed the cap from her lipstick and started to apply the frosted bronze color then stopped as if struck by a thought. "Oh, no. He's married, isn't he, Jen? Great. You finally meet a guy and he's married!"

"Settle down, Alva. He's not married. Not even attached." Jennifer dropped her lipstick back in her purse. She'd made a point to look up his biography at the GYN clinic's website.

Things would work out. She'd prevented Alva from disclosing to Matt that Jennifer had lived in Michigan in her youth. Not that he would have made a connection with little Jenny Thornhill. But there was no sense in taking a chance that he might suddenly realize Dr. Jennifer Monroe was the fourteen-year-old girl he'd taken to that long ago Christmas dance.