Jennifer Greene: Millionaire M.D.

Justin felt Win’s gaze leaping to his face. His ankle brushed hers, hoping that she would pick up the message that he wanted to handle this alone. “Yes. Both young women live locally. Although I would certainly hope that you would be studying the entire passenger list, and not just the two individuals who happen to be American.”

“Of course, of course. It was just that, naturally, the Americans are the ones who are the least familiar to us.”

And it would be far handier to find an American to blame for the plane crash than one of their own countrymen-although Justin took care not to voice that thought. “Well, to be truthful, I am in no position to answer any personal questions about either woman. And neither will Ms. Raye. But both Ms. Miles and Ms. Morris have lived in Royal their whole lives, and I believe you’ll find there’s no problem with them in any way.”

“I’m sure. Thank you for your time.” Garth’s flat, shiny eyes acknowledged first him, then Winona.

When they’d finally walked out of earshot, back toward their table, Winona turned to him with a frown. “The little guy gave me the willies, Doc.”

Justin shrugged. “I’m not surprised the Asterlanders sent someone to investigate their plane trouble. I don’t think there’s anything weird about that. But they hit on me for information right after they got here. I had a feeling they thought they could get more from a doctor than the law. Which just struck me as off base, not the normal chain of questioning…but it’s not like it matters. We’re going to completely forget about them now, okay?”

“Okay.”

“How’s my baby today?”

“Your baby started out this morning by charming the entire juvenile court. I swear, the only time she ever fusses is when she’s alone with me. In a crowd she never fails to live up to her name.”

“Myrt’s going to be really unhappy to hear that. She was counting on you needing a nanny more during the day, couldn’t wait to baby-sit for us tonight…” They both kept up a light chatter over dinner. The waiter served steak with Béarnaise sauce, snow peas and whipped potatoes. When he got around to taking those plates away, he showed back up offering crème brûlée, which was enough to make Win moan.

“Honestly, I can’t.”

“Sure you can.” He motioned to the waiter to bring two servings.

“You don’t understand. I have a weakness for certain desserts. I can’t give into it or I’ll be fat as a tub.”

He heard her protests, but when the dessert arrived, all he heard was “Oh, my,” followed by more “Oh, my, my, mys.”

He said, “I’m not positive, but I’m almost sure that they generally discourage customers from having orgasms in front of the other restaurant clientele.”

“Tough. That’s their problem.” Now that she’d quit being nervous, Win was back to being herself. Full of devilment and fearless-at least fearlessly diving into his dish of crème brûlée. She’d finished her own. “You did bring a wheelbarrow to cart me out of here, didn’t you?”

“No. But I did happen to bring something else.” He pushed a hand in his right pocket, and geezle beezle, realized his dad-blasted fingers were shaking again.

“Justin…” Maybe Win sensed that something momentous was coming, because she suddenly launched into a nonstop talking fest. “Let’s talk about some problems, okay? I don’t know what might be bothering you, but it occurred to me that one thing could be the house. You know what I mean. Which house we’re going to live in? And it doesn’t really matter to me, but my place is so small that your house seems to be obviously the best choice.”

“Well, your house is too small for the three of us, but that doesn’t have to limit us, Win. If you don’t like my place, we could either go house shopping or build from scratch.”

“Do you really want to do that?”

“I want to do whatever works for you. And the baby.”

“Well…I love your house. So unless you actually want to move, I think it’s ideal. Although…”

It wasn’t going to work. Trying to talk about anything normal. Not while the box in his pocket was burning a hole in his mind. So when she lifted another spoonful of crème brûlée, he slipped the small black box on the table. When she lowered the spoon, she saw it.

Even though she hadn’t leveled all of his dessert yet-and was obviously still hungry for it-she dropped the spoon. She dropped her hands, too. Her eyes met his, softer than lake water and more vulnerable than a spring night.

“Can I…open it?” she asked softly.

“You’re going to give me a heart attack if you don’t. Not that you have to like it, Win. I wanted to give you a surprise, but in the long run, I want you to have something that you really love and want to look at every day. The best jeweler I know is in Austin. We could fly up there, and he could either make you something specific to-”

Since she was paying no attention to his monologue, he quit talking. By then she’d opened the box. It was just a ring. Not a diamond, because once he’d become part of the Texas Cattleman’s Club, he’d become exposed to the value and meaning of certain gems. The sapphire not only matched her eyes, but a sapphire was supposed to be a stone for a woman who valued her individuality, a one-of-a-kind, as she was. And because he couldn’t choose a huge gem, because Win was mightily against ostentation, he’d opted for a priceless one. The hue was unusual for a sapphire, not the dark blue of midnight, but the clear, deep blue of her eyes, the limitless blue of…love.

He’d prepared a speech to communicate all that, partly because he wanted to tell her…but also because he was desperate to have something to say so that she couldn’t change her mind. But as it happened, he never had a chance to worry about any of that.

She hurled herself at him. Arms raised. Head tilted. She knocked over a spoon, then a saucer, making enough of a clatter to have heads swiveling from all over the restaurant to witness her throwing herself in his arms. He saw her eyes glistening and almost died to realize she was crying.

And then she kissed him.

Or he kissed her. By then, who could tell? The only thing that mattered was meeting her exuberant kiss halfway…and then more than halfway. Lips touched, and all that rough, fast hurling around was suddenly over. The kiss turned soft and silent and secret. Reverent.

The whisper of her taste was a promise. The texture of her lips a vow. God, she won his heart all over again. Every time she came to him, he felt this horrible melting from the inside. A changing. An instinctive understanding that his life could be bigger with her, his heart could be stronger, the whole universe richer-if she just loved him.

And man, he did love her. From the inside, from the outside, to hell with where they were or who was watching. Nothing mattered but telling her how he felt, what he wanted for her, for them. Love shimmered between them like liquid gold that coated both of them in its warmth and power. And yeah, sexual desire loomed between them, too. Hot and wicked and needy. Craving her was good, too. He couldn’t wait to get her out of here, get her naked, wearing nothing but the blasted ring…but it was funny. Just kissing her that instant was all he ever wanted, too.

Finally she eased away, both of them out of breath, their gazes still locked tight on each other.

“I’ll be damned. I’m getting the craziest feeling you like the ring,” he murmured.

“Don’t you try to tease me now, Doc. I couldn’t handle it.”

He dropped the smile instantly. “I love you, Win. No teasing. No nothing. That’s always been what this is about. Not the baby, not anything else in our lives. Just love.”