Jennifer Greene: Millionaire M.D.

But now it was.

And now her heart was hanging out there, at risk in a way she’d never risked her heart before. For a man who was worth it. But a man she suddenly wasn’t sure really needed-or wanted-her.

When Justin picked up Winona for dinner, he was so close to a shambling mess that he wanted to laugh at himself. He’d never been a nervous type. Couldn’t be. In his work, he had to do hours of intricate surgery without hesitation or allowing emotions to fluster his judgment. Yet tonight, his stomach was flip-flopping, his heartbeat galloping like a clumsy colt’s, his palms sticky-damp, and the extremely small package in his suit pocket seemed to weigh five tons.

He counted on feeling better when he saw her-only it didn’t work out that way.

For a few minutes she stood in the doorway, giving Myrt instructions and talking about the baby. And while she was standing there, she tugged on a coat, which she was definitely going to need, since the January night was frigid, the stars colder than diamonds against a black felt sky. Still, he’d caught a look at her in the black silk and heels. Even when Win dressed up, she never wore show-off clothes, nothing to toot her figure or draw attention to herself. But something had gotten into her. Something dangerous. Something worrisome. He didn’t know what to make of it all-the dipping-to-trouble bodice and the smoky thing she’d done to her eyes and the subtly lethal scent she wore.

His blood pressure had been in trouble before he picked her up. Now it was threatening stroke levels.

He was tugging on his tie even before he’d parked and walked her into Claire’s. The restaurant was on Main Street, past the bustling new town, past the shopping district, past the old, historic Royalton Hotel. Possibly five crystal snow flakes fell from the sky-no more, just enough to add atmosphere and magic to the night-and they stepped inside.

Although Royal was a wealthy town because of its oil, the town’s personality had never been formal. Claire’s was the exception. Just inside the door, there was almost an audible hush. The tables were decked with white linen, each center-pieced with a fresh rosebud. No prices showed up on the menus. The carpet was a luxurious wine, the wallpaper some type of velvet flocking in ruby-red. In the far corner, a piano player wearing a tux played muted love songs.

Once he’d taken her coat, Winona half turned to whisper in his ear, “All right. This is scary. I’ve been here before. You know how it is. The Gerards used Claire’s for special celebrations like everyone else does-at least everyone who can afford it. But I always wondered…exactly what happens if someone trips? Or burps?”

In spite of the five-ton weight of the package in his pocket, Justin started relaxing. How could he have forgotten? Win was as natural to be with as his own heartbeat. Even if that dip in her dress was affecting said heartbeat with drumroll enthusiasm. “It’s okay,” he assured her. “Nothing bad is allowed to happen in here, so you don’t have to worry about it.”

“Ah. Is that how it works? I always have the feeling that I’m going to get a run in my stocking the minute I walk into this place. Or, more to the point, that I’ll be the only woman in Claire’s with a noticeable run.”

“Well, that could be. But if that happens, you could take off the stocking and hand it to me to hide-along with anything you’re wearing under that slinky black dress.”

“Justin! This dress is not slinky!”

“It sure is. On you.” Again, he yanked on his tie. “Maybe we should go straight home. You’re not that hungry, are you? I am. But not for food anymore.”

Winona crackled the menu. “You are a bad, bad man and an even worse influence,” she said severely, and then smiled like a saint for the waiter.

“I think we want to start out with the most decadent bottle of wine you’ve got in the cellar,” Justin said, only to have Win bat her eyes at him.

“You mean those grapes went out and misbehaved? Created a scandal on their own?”

“You bet. You just can’t trust those grapes. Some of them grow up just praying for a chance to raise hell…” And to the waiter, he said, “Don’t mind us. We’re out of our minds. And in the meantime-we want the best steaks you’ve got in the back-and I don’t mean the ones you shipped in from Kansas. We want Texas steaks or nothing-and cooked more rare than a politician’s promises.”

“Yes, sir.” The waiter had a hard time not cracking up, but then he was gone.

“Slip off your shoes, Win. You’re just with me. We’re going to do the gluttony and decadent relaxing thing tonight or die trying. No thinking about work or babies or worries or anything else, okay?”

Her smile was so sweet he was damn near tempted to sing her love songs. In public, yet. She raised a hand, matching his, touching fingertips to fingertips as if there wasn’t another soul in the restaurant. How he’d lived without her this long confounded Justin. And that he could help ease her nerves made him feel sky high…although that moment of private peace didn’t last, unfortunately.

Her soft smile suddenly seemed to wax still. “Darnit, Justin, I was really hoping to talk to you…but there are two men sitting over at a corner table by the window. They can’t be local, because I’d have seen them before, and there’s something a little odd about their clothes. The thing is, though, that they keep staring at you…”

Justin didn’t glance over his shoulder. He’d already noticed the two men when they’d first been ushered in. “Yeah. Their names are Milo and Garth. Quite a pair, aren’t they? They remind me of a poodle and a pug.”

“A poodle and a pu…” Again, she glanced at the two men, and then her soft mouth worked as she tried to control a giggle. “Justin, that’s terrible!”

“But true, isn’t it?” Once the waiter brought the open bottle, Justin motioned him away and poured the pinot noir into her glass.

“Well, I take it you know them? Oh shoot, they’re coming this way.”

Well, hell. There were only two human beings on the planet Justin really wanted to see tonight-one was the baby, and the other-the only one he really wanted-was Win. But now he was forced to look up. And as Winona had warned, bad news seemed determinedly bearing down on them.

Milo, the tall one, really did resemble a standard poodle. He was ultralean, with fairly broad shoulders but no butt or body and reedlike legs. A head full of springy, wiry curls framed an angular face with small eyes and a long nose. His sidekick, Garth, was a total contrast. Built short and squat, he had a pug’s flat nose and ornery expression. When Justin had first noted them eating, Garth had been shoveling in food as if he feared never getting another meal.

Both now approached their table with courteous smiles. “Doctor Webb, it’s nice to see you again. We don’t want to interrupt your dinner, but when we recognized you across the room, we thought we should say hello.”

“I’m glad you did,” Justin lied smoothly, and promptly introduced Win-although there was a limit to manners. There was no way he was asking the two boys to sit down. “Milo and Garth are here from Asterland, Winona-”

Milo turned an extra-watt smile on her. “Yes, we just arrived yesterday.”

“-and they’re here to investigate the difficulties with the plane. Hopefully, by pooling American and Asterland resources together, we’re going to find some solid answers soon, right, gentlemen?”

“We all hope.” Milo bobbed his head. “Since you happen to be here, Dr. Webb, Garth and I have been going over the passenger list. Do you happen to be familiar with a Ms. Pamela Miles and a Ms. Jamie Morris?”