Caro Carson - The Bachelor Doctor's Bride

Quinn scowled back at her for a good, long while. Then he uncrossed his arms and looked away with a little shake of his head. “That bad?”

“That bad, but not for long. Let me just find you the perfect partner.”

“Do you often perform your matchmaking services for total strangers?”

“All the time.” Every weekend, in fact, but she wasn’t going to tell James Bond that. Every weekend, she volunteered at an animal shelter where she matched total strangers with the perfect pets.

This Quinn-in-a-tuxedo wouldn’t appreciate that her skills had been honed on dogs, but people weren’t much different. It was all a matter of finding complementing temperaments, something Diana had found success at by relying less on talking and more on facial expressions and body language.

Diana trusted her mad matchmaking skills. Lana would never have been right for Quinn, even if she’d been available, but Quinn would never believe Diana. Perhaps she should let him figure it out for himself. “Look—there’s a Lana look-alike for you. Go ask her to dance.”

When he didn’t budge, she put her hand on his shoulder and pushed.

Quinn shook his head as he stood. “I can’t believe I’m going to do this.”

But he did. The woman was petite and slender, with shiny, straight black hair and an air of confidence about her. Diana watched her graciously present her hand to Quinn, so he could lead her to the dance floor. Like so many men in Texas, men who grew up leading women in the Texas two-step and country waltzes, Quinn was obviously a confident dancer. He and his partner looked elegant together, dancing to a Frank Sinatra standard.

Still, Diana wasn’t surprised when Quinn returned after only one dance. The Lana-type wasn’t what he needed.

“Well?” she prompted him as he sat next to her once more.

“She was the perfect woman—just ask her. She’s chairing the board at whichever museum she said, and she’s running a gardening gig, all out of the kindness of her heart.”

“Charity work sounds like something Lana would do.”

“She wouldn’t brag about it.”

“True, true. Your Lana look-alike was too old for you, anyway.” Diana had a feeling this man would too easily retire into a sedate, settled lifestyle if she let him. Well, not if she herself let him, but if he were matched with the wrong woman, he’d find himself talking politics with gray-haired gentleman at a prestigious club in no time. Quinn was probably only thirty or so. He ought to be surfing or mountain-climbing, not serving on museum boards with a society wife.

“I’m afraid you’re mistaken, my dear matchmaker,” he said. “Lana’s only two years older than I.”

“She’s taken. Get over it.” Really, some cases needed a little tough love. Diana patted his arm, though, to soften her direct words. “Okay, at your three o’clock. Blonde in the sheath dress. A knock-out and still in her twenties. She might enjoy bungee jumping.”

Suave Mr. Bond was apparently caught off guard by that. He gave away his surprise with a discreet cough, a polite clearing of the throat. “Is bungee jumping the criteria now?”

“Go.”

Humoring her, which Diana took to be a sign of progress already, Quinn walked over and struck up a conversation. Diana watched his nod toward the dance floor, watched the woman light up and say yes. Who wouldn’t?

It only lasted one dance. After a polite thank-you nod to the woman, Quinn returned to Diana.

“No?” she asked.

“No.”

“Give me something to go on.”

“She still lives at home with Daddy. Rich Daddy. She wanted to know if I thought a trip to Europe would really be more educational than a trip to the Caribbean. Daddy thinks it would be.”

“Not Lana-like at all, you’re right. You want someone more educated, then?”

“I want someone who is less into money. Lana’s no gold digger.”

Diana felt her first little zip of irritation toward him. She doubted he’d meant to insult her, but there it was. “I would never have matched you with a gold digger.”

“I assure you, Daddy’s Girl would be one very expensive entanglement.”

From their side-by-side chairs, they could easily see the woman with her group of friends. She’d just dropped her gem-studded clutch. She made absolutely no move to pick it up, but pouted down at it, as if the purse had somehow misbehaved. Diana watched with amusement as another woman in her circle picked up the clutch and handed it back.

“That’s not a gold digger, Quinn. She expects expensive things and an easy life, but only because she’s always been given them. Always, from day one, and most definitely by Daddy. She just assumes everyone around her is rich, like she is. That’s not the same thing as a gold digger. Those women calculate which man in the room has the most money and then go after him.”

Quinn had started to take a breath to argue with her before she’d even finished her point, but to his credit, he stopped. Diana enjoyed one lovely, long moment of staring into his green, green eyes before they crinkled just a bit in what was precariously close to a smile.

“You’re right. There is a difference. I stand corrected.” He leaned close to Diana’s ear and said, “But I’m still not interested.”

His voice was warm. His tone was very assured, very in charge, but she could hear that touch of humor that lay just under the surface.

Diana felt...well, she felt antsy. There was something about Quinn that made her feel restless. The prospect of spending more time watching him dance with other women was not appealing. She needed to find a suitable partner for serious Quinn, and then she needed to get back to her mixing and her mingling.

That was all she’d come for tonight. Just a lovely, fun evening. She hadn’t come to pass out business cards, and she certainly hadn’t come to start brooding over a man who wouldn’t stop brooding over Lana MacDowell.

The band struck up a song with a livelier beat. Diana stood, and when Quinn didn’t follow, she grabbed his hand and practically hauled him out of his chair.

“Don’t worry, Quinn, we’re getting closer.”

“I wasn’t worried.”

“Two o’clock, white dress. Guaranteed not to live at home with Daddy. Looks like she’s terribly educated, but still young enough to go bungee jumping with you.”

“Haven’t I danced with enough women?”

“Third time’s the charm. She looks perfect for you.”

Quinn looked toward the woman Diana had picked out. Diana studied his face, feeling some smug satisfaction as Quinn raised that eyebrow in reluctant approval. “Very well,” he said, and he walked away.

Diana watched. Of course, the woman said hello graciously. Of course, the woman was soon smiling. Of course, the woman walked onto the dance floor and into Quinn’s arms.

This time, Quinn looked like he was enjoying the conversation. His partner looked self-possessed and confident, which was excellent, because she wasn’t going to be Quinn’s girlfriend for long. Diana had just found him his rebound girl, the one who would help him get past this Lana phase.

The lady in white looked like she’d be able to handle it. She and Quinn would share some lovely evenings and mutual interests in the meantime, and then...

And then, when that phase was over and Lana was firmly out of Quinn’s system, would he be open to a different kind of woman? One, say, with a love of parties and a passion for homeless pups?

Diana gave herself a mental shake. She was not a plotter and planner. She was the spontaneous girl who trusted her senses, and she’d sensed right away that this man needed a little fun in his life. That was what had drawn her to him, the desire to help a fellow human being enjoy life. Nothing more.