PRINCE CHARMING M.D. (15 page)

"Trevor, stop! Stop!" She gasped for air, laughing and twisting, trying to get away from him. "I'm not ticklish."

"Oh, I can tell." He leaned closer and reached for her other side.

"I mean it. This isn't dignified. Oh!"

She inhaled sharply and kicked out. Anything to get away. He didn't give up. Between his size advantage and his superior strength, she didn't have a chance. She thrust out her free hand in an attempt to tickle him back. Unfortunately, he really
wasn't
ticklish.

"Trevor!"

She made one desperate attempt to turn away. Her left arm bumped against the back of the sofa. As soon as her hand connected with the soft material, she knew she was in trouble.

Sure enough, the force of the movement sent her egg flying through the air. It sailed in a perfect arc, narrowly missing the coffee table before falling onto the stone floor and landing with a messy
splat.

Dana winced. "This is not my fault."

"Oh, Dana, what are we going to do with you?"

She looked up and saw Shelly staring at her. Dana pointed to the shattered shell and broken yolk. "This isn't my fault. Trevor was tickling me and I couldn't get away, and you tell her Trevor."

He picked up his box. "I don't know, Shelly. T.J. and I were just chatting with Dana here when she tossed her egg into the air. What can I say?"

Dana ignored the twinkle in his eye and shoved his arm. "Oh, thank you very much for that support." She stood. "This isn't my fault. You know it and I know it."

"Where are you going?" Trevor called as she stalked away.

"To the kitchen, of course. I need another egg."

"You might want to save yourself the extra trips and just ask for a dozen."

Bill passed Dana a margarita. "My favorite was the dog exercise," he said,

Dana chuckled. A couple of days ago they'd been required to stand in front of the group and, in a stern voice, tell Shelly, "Don't you ever, ever, ever let me catch you brushing that dog's teeth again."

Everyone had been weak with laughter watching classmates struggle to keep a firm tone in their voice, but actually getting up to do that had been difficult. The purpose had been to remind everyone that while embarrassment was uncomfortable, it didn't maim or kill and people did survive the experience.

"Not the water-balloon fight?" she asked.

Bill thought for a moment. "That was fun, although I'll have to explain to my wife why I have condoms in my luggage."

Dana nodded. After a particularly tense session, everyone had gone out into the garden and had a water-balloon fight in the rain. They hadn't made a dent in the four jumbo boxes of condoms Shelly had provided. The instructor had taken a lot of ribbing that she was thinking about protection about nine months too late. In retaliation, she'd sent the extras to everyone's rooms.

Trevor took a drink of his beer. "What was your favorite, Dana?"

"I'm not sure, because I really enjoyed everything we did. I can't believe we've been here six days already and we go back day after tomorrow. It's gone by quickly."

Bill glanced out the window. They were in the lobby bar, at a table that usually looked out over the manicured gardens. But for the past three days all anyone had been able to see was rain. "Assuming we can get out of here," he said. "This is the tail end of the storm and it should be gone in the morning, but the flooding has gotten worse. Did you know the instructors have to spend the night here?"

"Just as well," Dana said. "I know Shelly swears she's got another couple of weeks until the baby is due, and first babies are traditionally late, but to me she looks ready to give birth at any second. I would hate to think of her getting trapped somewhere."

"Yeah. Lucky for her, if she goes into labor early she's got a doctor and a nurse right here."

Trevor shook his head. "Don't look at me. I'm not about to deliver a baby."

Dana glanced at him and smiled. "But you're so good with Trevor Junior."

Trevor shuddered. "I'm keeping good thoughts that Shelly goes to term."

Bill stood up. "Okay. The party is in my room in an hour. We've ordered Chinese food. Are you going to be there?"

Dana opened her mouth to reply, but Trevor beat her to it. "Dana and I have plans for tonight, but thanks for asking."

"No problem. See you two in the morning." He sauntered off to join the next table.

Dana glanced at Trevor. "We have plans?"

He gave her an apologetic smile. "I hope you don't mind me saying that. We've gone to a different party every night and I'm tired of that. I thought it would be nice to order in dinner and spend some time alone together. But if you'd rather join the others, I understand."

She had been in the process of taking a sip of her drink and she had to remind herself to swallow. The icy liquid soothed her suddenly tight throat, but it didn't do a thing for her pounding heart.

Trevor wanted to have dinner with her? Alone? Panic and anticipation battled it out in her stomach. Over the past six days, she'd gotten to know Trevor. She liked the man he'd become. She enjoyed his company. But … none of that had changed his reputation or her concerns about getting involved with Dr. Love. Still, she couldn't deny he made her come alive. Would it be so very wrong to spend a couple of hours alone with him? Maybe he would finally kiss her and she could know if it was as wonderful as she remembered. Maybe it was a risk, but could she live with herself if she didn't take a chance?

"I'd like to have dinner with you," she said.

He flashed
her his
best smile. "Great. Why don't you plan to come to my room around
seven.
"

Chapter Eight

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^
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T
revor tugged on the collar of his long-sleeved white shirt, told himself it really wasn't too tight, that he was just suffering from a bad case of nerves, and opened the door. Dana stood in the hallway, her blue eyes wide, her expression half excited, half wary.

He knew exactly how she was feeling. He'd tried to convince himself he'd simply invited a co-worker over for dinner, but he couldn't swallow the lie. For one thing, this wasn't his town house back in Honeygrove; this was a hotel room where the largest and most prominent piece of furniture was a bed. For another, he thought of Dana as much more than a colleague. Finally, while his body's reaction to her was simple and predictable, it more than complicated the situation. He could only try to keep her distracted so she didn't happen to glance down.

He took in the white long-sleeved blouse she wore tucked into jeans and grinned. "So you got my memo about the dress code," he said.

She laughed. "We're twins tonight. That's pretty embarrassing."

"Fortunately, no one has to know." He stepped back to let her into the room. "The wine is here," he said, motioning to the bottle resting in an ice bucket on the tiny table in front of the sofa by the window. "However, dinner is going to be a while. Apparently a lot of people had the same idea of ordering room service and we'll have to wait."

"I don't mind." She walked to the couch and perched on the edge of the far cushion. "I'm not that hungry."

He was, but not for food. Get over it, MacAllister, he told himself. He had to find a way to distract himself. If he didn't, he was going to say or do something they would both regret.

He sat down next to her. The sofa wasn't that long, and even though he stayed on "his" side, they were still close. "I see you found a sitter," he said as he started opening the wine. "I called downstairs, but there wasn't one available. I don't think it'll be a problem, though. T.J. had a pretty busy day and he's a sound sleeper."

He glanced at the small box sitting on top of his dresser. Dana followed his gaze,
then
laughed. "You're crazy," she told him. "No, I didn't get a sitter. I left my inert egg alone in my room. There, I've admitted what a terrible egg mother I am. Do you want to call social services?"

"I don't think that will be necessary." He handed her a glass of wine. "I guess we have different ideas on parenting," he said, his voice mockingly sad. "I'm a little surprised, but I'll get over it."

"Gee, thanks." She took a sip. "This is nice."

He wasn't sure if she meant the wine or their being alone together. "Yes, it is."

She took another sip and leaned back in her seat. "I can't believe how quickly the week has gone. It's been a great experience."

"I agree." He angled toward her. The lamp behind her cast a warm glow over her blond hair. As usual, she'd brushed it away from her face. The short cut barely came below her ears, but still looked feminine on her. He stretched his right arm along the back of the sofa. His fingertips were inches from her shoulder.

"Are you anxious to get back to work?" she asked.

"Not anxious, but ready. I have heavy surgery caseloads the first couple of days,
then
it should slow down a little. Oh, I've heard from my architect. He's drawn up the preliminary plans for my house. If you have some time, I'd really like you to look at them. I'd appreciate a woman's perspective on things."

She flushed. He wondered if it was from pleasure or just the wine.

"I'd be delighted," she said. "Although based on our 'egg'sperience here, you could be more adept at that kind of thing."

"I'm willing to risk your opinion."

She tilted her head and stared at him as if confused about something.

"What are you thinking?" he asked.

"I'm wondering why you're asking me. There are many other women who would be happy to go over the plans with you. Or do anything else you'd like."

He set down his glass and leaned toward her. "Maybe, Dana, but yours is the opinion that matters to me."

She blinked slowly. "Trevor, I…" Her voice trailed off.

Some of his good mood faded. "If I were a masochist, I'd ask you to tell me what the rumors are this time."

"I don't understand."

He shrugged. "There are always rumors. You should remember that from high school. People, mostly women, are always talking about me. I'm not sure why. It's frustrating, to say the least." After working up the courage, he asked, "Have you thought about what I said about Joel? That he was the one who told everyone we'd made love that weekend?"

She cupped the wineglass in her hands and looked at him. "I've thought about it. I don't know what to believe. You've never lied to me. To the best of my knowledge, you've never lied to anyone."

"But?"

"But … why would Joel do that?" She shook her head. "I know what you told me, that Joel was interested in me and wanted us to break up. But he and I never went out."

"Did he ever ask you out?"

She was quiet for a moment. "I don't remember. Those first few days passed in a blur and nothing about them is clear. I know he was always around and I think I told him I appreciated his being a friend to me. At the time I felt pretty alone."

Trevor grunted. He wanted to hunt Joel down and beat the life out of him. Damn him for interfering in what was possibly the most wonderful relationship of Trevor's life. If only he'd been able to explain to Dana at the time. If only she'd been willing to listen. They could have been happy together. Or maybe not. Maybe they'd both been too young.

"I'm sorry about that," he said. "I wish I could change things."

"I believe you," she said. "That means a lot to me."

He took her wineglass from her and set it on the table. One of his hands remained clasped around hers and he didn't let her go. "I realize this isn't going to get me a lot of sympathy, but I'm going to tell you anyway. I'm more than just my reputation. There's actually a living, breathing person underneath all the hype." He deliberately made his tone light. "There are even a couple of people who'd be willing to tell you I'm kind of a swell guy."

Her hand was small and warm, and her fingers easily laced with his. He held on gently, not squeezing, but determined not to let go. Was it his imagination, or was Dana leaning toward him? Her eyes were faintly dilated. Wine or desire? Did he finally have her attention?

"I haven't heard
those
rumors," she said. "But I'm willing to bet they might be true. There are times when you're the worst kind of guy, dating everything in sight. Then there are times when you really surprise me. I mean that in a good way."