Caro Carson - The Bachelor Doctor's Bride

“Strike three?” she asked, leaning away from the pillar. Hot man in a tuxedo was infinitely preferable. Still, she was a bit baffled that he’d come to tell her his partner hadn’t worked out. She’d left him with a woman who fit him perfectly.

What was more, Quinn didn’t look very upset at striking out.

“What was the problem?” Diana asked.

“Let’s go back to our seats.” Quinn gestured toward the ballroom, and fell into place beside her. She half-expected him to offer her his arm in an old-fashioned way, but he didn’t. Without touching, they walked side by side along the row of pillars. They’d definitely become buddies, just as she’d predicted.

Okay, Quinn, spill your guts to your gal pal.

Diana gave him the opening she knew he needed. “You can’t tell me she wasn’t educated enough. I could tell she was terribly educated just by looking at her.”

“Terribly educated is right. She can’t see why the Nobel committee overlooked the contributions of two scientists I’ve never heard of who discovered some molecular entity I’ve never heard of. And I’m a doctor, mind you.”

Oh, he was most definitely a doctor. She knew this from the calendar, of course, but Quinn’s career explained so much about him. Diana did not envy doctors. They were too often grim, too often facing long odds in their line of work. Someone had to do it, of course. Someone had to pit their skills against illness and injury, but Diana was glad to leave the life-and-death work to others.

Diana was satisfied with her matchmaking calling. To bring in money, she matched people with homes. In her spare time, she matched people with dogs. And tonight, she’d taken it upon herself to match this doctor with a person who could help him lighten up.

“Here’s the bright side, Quinn,” she said, as she snagged a glass of champagne from one of the circulating waiters, “at least she knew how to say ‘molecular entity.’”

That drew another smile from him. Diana was pleased that he’d stopped being stingy with the smiles. She was good at this, helping people enjoy themselves. In any group, Diana was the one who bubbled and chatted and smoothed over any awkwardness.

Sometimes, she wondered what would happen if she stopped. If she let herself have a bad day, if she groused at a neighbor or frowned at a stranger, was there another Diana out there who would try to cheer her up? If she wore a plain black dress and sat alone in a corner, would anyone notice she existed?

Diana never intended to find out. She’d continue making people happy, and they’d continue to include her in their world, the way Quinn was including her in his. One of her mother’s best pieces of advice had been to follow the Scout philosophy of leaving the world a better place than you found it. Diana had taken that to heart, and always tried to leave people happier than she found them.

She returned his smile brightly. “We’ll keep looking until we find the right one for you tonight.”

Diana turned in a slow circle, eyeing the crowd over the rim of her champagne flute, gauging all the eligible women, taking in at a glance how they dressed, how they held themselves, how they smiled—or didn’t. How they might match with Quinn.

“How about the girl in the red dress?”

“She’s not very pretty. If we’re going for someone like Lana, she’d have to be quite attractive.”

“I’d tell you to get over the physical looks, but chemistry is everything. When you take the right woman in your arms tonight, you’ll know. Since she’ll be getting James Bond, it’s only fair that she be a knockout, too.”

“James Bond?”

“Ooh—I see a good one. At your six. Turn around casually.”

“I haven’t experienced this level of espionage since high school.”

In his deadpan way, he was cracking jokes. Really, he was quite charming. Diana found herself laughing with him because she liked his sense of humor, no longer because she wanted him to follow her lead and lighten up. He was more of a serious person than she was, sure, but that gruff demeanor had softened into something more genuine. Maybe her mission had been accomplished despite his lack of a dancing partner.

Diana handed him her champagne flute. “Here, you need a drink after making small talk with strangers for the past three songs.”

He took a sip. “It’s warm.”

“It’s free. It’s all included in this wonderful party. You’ve got to remember to look at the bright side of things.”

The expression on his face changed just a tiny bit. Less critical, more thoughtful. “You’re right, of course. Excuse me for a moment. Don’t disappear.” He left—with her champagne glass.

Diana entertained herself by awarding imaginary scores for the best gowns. When she spotted one young woman nervously tugging up her strapless dress and standing with her shoulders self-consciously stooped, Diana wanted to run over and hug her. It was obvious the young person had no idea just how pretty she was. If only Diana could tell her to throw her shoulders back and smile.

Diana had learned during her school years that she couldn’t hug everyone. For one thing, it alarmed people, sometimes, to have strangers offer advice. She’d learned to approach people the way she approached new dogs, with a positive attitude and a hand outstretched in a nonthreatening way. She had yet to meet a dog that wouldn’t be her friend, and humans were pretty much the same way.

Even people like her James Bond. Quinn seemed independent and self-sufficient, but Diana sensed that he was a lonely man. Subconsciously, he must know it, too. It was why he was accepting her help tonight, wasn’t it?

The shy girl in the strapless gown that didn’t quite fit would have to wait. Quinn was headed her way again, debonair in his black tuxedo, standing an inch taller than most of the men, moving easily through the sea of partygoers.

Look at the bright side. He’s part of the party now, no longer standing alone.

He was part of the festive atmosphere, light reflecting off his dark hair as he nodded at acquaintances. He didn’t stop walking to talk to anyone, however. He was heading directly back to her.

Diana twirled a piece of her fringe around one finger. Too bad they weren’t each other’s type. He was a damned good-looking guy.

“I’m sorry to have left you alone, but it was necessary if you were going to insist that we drink champagne.” Quinn held up a bottle painted with flowers in one hand, then set a pair of empty flutes down on the table nearest them. He grabbed an unused napkin from a place setting and snapped it out of its elegant knot. With a twist, he tucked it around the champagne bottle.

He had good hands.

“Were you a waiter?” she asked.

Quinn glanced up from his pouring.

Diana nodded toward the flutes. “You do this very well.”

And that simple compliment finally, finally, broke through the last of Quinn’s reserve. The suave smile turned into something more.

He laughed.

Diana went still.

This is the man for me.

A man who laughed, a man who enjoyed life, now that was the kind of man who could be a perfect match for her, Ivy League or community college be damned.

If only he weren’t on the rebound...if only he didn’t want a woman like Lana...a woman nothing like Diana.

Diana took the champagne he offered, glad for the excuse to get back in motion, grateful for the sharp bubbles that woke up her taste buds. “It does taste better cold. You were right.”

He lifted his own glass to his lips with a grin, and Diana felt her heart trip a little in the middle of its usually quick rhythm. He was lovesick over Lana MacDowell. She needed to remember that. The next woman he dated would only be a phase, a transition to his next serious relationship.