SEATED IN THE passenger seat of David’s sedan, waiting for him to come around and open the door for her, Nychelle tried not to fidget with her hair or smooth down her dress.
Her wildly expensive, extravagant dress.
The kind of dress she usually never, ever bought but in this case hadn’t been able to resist.
Nothing at any of the shops she usually patronized—most of which sold designer garments at reduced prices—had seemed appropriate. Finally she’d given in and gone to a boutique Aliya had once taken her to, where price sticker shock had almost caused her to have a heart attack. Right in the middle of the store, displayed in pride of place, she’d found the dress and, despite wanting to cry when she heard the price, she’d known it was perfect. After all, she was going to the gala with a man who just might be the best-looking one there. The last thing she wanted was to feel frumpy in comparison—especially in front of her parents.
Made of luxurious silk, with an intricate side-pleated, strapless bodice that fit her like a glove, and from which flowed a swirling, clingy skirt, the dress was two shades lighter than David’s eyes. Looking at herself in the mirror, she’d felt beautiful, even sophisticated, and the appreciation in David’s gaze when she’d opened her front door to him had been the icing on the cake. Having a gorgeous man solemnly tell you how beautiful you looked was an ego-booster, although she sternly cautioned herself not to take it to heart.
Now, as he swung the car door open and held out his hand, she steeled herself for the night ahead.
“Have I told you how lovely you look?” he asked, keeping hold of her hand although she was already out of the car.
“This makes three times.” Slanting him a look, she reminded herself they weren’t on a date one more time, and wriggled her fingers to try to make him let them go.
Instead of releasing her hand, David simply slid it up into the crook of his elbow, holding it there.
“Only three?” The corner of his mouth quirked, as he started leading her into the hotel. “I’m lagging behind...need to up my game. It should be at least a dozen times by now.”
She had never thought she’d laugh while about to be subjected to her family in a formal professional setting, but somehow David managed it with his dry delivery.
“So, what am I in for tonight?”
They were crossing the lobby toward the banquet hall as he leaned in close to ask the question, his breath warm against her cheek.
“Will the food be good, or will I need to take you to a burger joint afterward?”
That made her giggle again, and it wasn’t until they were right at the door that she realized her stomach wasn’t tied in knots the way it usually was before one of these events.
“Nychelle—glad you could make it on time.” Her mother gave her a perfunctory hug and the obligatory air-kiss near one cheek, before adding, “And you took time to find something suitable to wear.”
“Yes, Mom.”
Ugh. That lukewarm reception knocked a lot of the wind out of her sails, leaving Nychelle caught somewhere between annoyance and disappointment. And, even though she wanted to see David’s demeanor as she introduced him, she was too embarrassed by her mother’s greeting to look at his face.
“Mom, I don’t think you’ve met Dr. David Warmington? David, this is my mother, Dr. Monique Girvan.”
The look of quickly disguised shock on her mother’s face when she realized Nychelle had a date should have made Nychelle want to laugh, but it only served to make her feel that much worse.
“A pleasure to meet you, Dr. Warmington.” Back to her usual urbane self, her mom gave David one of her piercing, interrogatory looks. “Dr. Hamatty has mentioned you. So nice of you to come—and to give Nychelle a ride.”
“The pleasure is all mine, Dr. Girvan. On all fronts.”
Nychelle thought there was a hint of coolness in his greeting and glanced up. Although he was smiling, the expression didn’t reach his eyes.
“Your daughter was kind enough to agree to accompany me, and my appreciation for that knows no bounds.”
Then they were moving forward, and Nychelle was greeting the next person in the receiving line, and whatever her mother said in reply to David was lost in the murmur of voices.
Once they’d cleared the line Nychelle glanced around, still stung by her mother’s attitude, looking everywhere but at David.
“They’ve really outdone themselves with the decor this year. Those arrangements of calla lilies and orchids are amazing.” She was babbling, and she knew it, but somehow couldn’t stop. “Did you get a chance to check out the items up for auction? They should have sent you a list with the invitation. There are some gorgeous paintings, and a sculpture I absolutely covet...”
Warm fingers closed around her wrist, stemming the flow of words spilling from her mouth, and when she glanced up David’s intent expression made her breath hitch. Then he was leaning close, his cheek almost resting against hers, and the scent of expensive cologne and heated male caused a cascade of goose bumps over her arms and back.
“I don’t care how old you are. If you were my daughter the last thing I’d call that dress is ‘appropriate.’”
His fingers, somehow both firm and gentle at the same time, skimmed up her arm to her shoulder, stopping just shy of her collarbone, and a sweet shiver traveled up her spine.
“It’s alluring. Decadent. Deliciously sensual. It’ll make every red-blooded man in this room want to take it off.”
His hand fell away. That simple touch had left her far more aroused than it should have been able to. Made her want to grab his hand and pull it back, guide it lower, to where her breast swelled over the bodice of the dress in question.
“Highly inappropriate from a parental point of view, I would have thought.”
The right response would be to laugh, make light of what he was saying, but her insides were at war. She was dry-mouthed, her heartbeat threatening to go completely out of control. Taking a deep breath made it worse, because David was still leaning close and that scent, which she found excessively sexy, filled her already swimming head.
Then he straightened. “I’m going to have to beat the men off you tonight, aren’t I?” He said it in a wry, conversational tone, but his lips twitched, revealing his amusement. “Good thing I’ve been going to the gym.”
Trust him to make her smile, even when it was the last thing she felt like doing. Gathering her composure, she slanted him a glance, then quickly looked away again, because the warmth in his eyes was threatening to undo all her hard-won poise.
“Oh, I think we’ll be okay. Everyone tends to be on their best behavior at these galas.”
Tucking her fingers into the crook of his arm again, David muttered, “Darn it. I suppose I’ll have be too, then. Just my luck.” Then, before she could do more than chuckle, he continued, “Come on—let’s take a stroll around and look at the auction items. I want to see this sculpture you like so much.”
And she was happy to comply, knowing the night probably wouldn’t get any better.
* * *
Dinner had been delicious—far better than he’d expected from past experience—and the after-dinner speeches hadn’t droned on and on, as they so often did at these affairs. And being seated at a table with four other doctors from the Lauderlakes clinic, along with their accompanying spouses and significant others, had ensured pleasant dinner conversation, without any of the awkwardness that would have come with sitting with strangers.
And, of course, there was Nychelle—who had taken his breath away when she’d opened her front door earlier, and continued to do so every time he looked at her. At least here he had the opportunity to watch her openly, instead of surreptitiously as he often found himself doing at the clinic. Truth be told, tonight he’d had to tear his gaze away periodically, since the temptation was to hang on to her every word and gesture like a doofus.
Or some kind of creepy stalker.
He really wasn’t sure which one was accurate, but at least he was able to acknowledge it was one or the other and rein himself in. It shouldn’t be this difficult. They weren’t on a date, and he didn’t want it to be one.
At the time, asking her to come with him had seemed like a great idea. He liked her, found her good company, and got the impression she wasn’t particularly interested in him other than as a colleague and perhaps a casual friend. That last fact made her the perfect companion, so any problems he had were squarely on him.
Despite his fascination with Nychelle, and the spurt of annoyance he’d felt with the way her mother greeted her, from David’s point of view it had been a great evening.
Until now, when they were mingling with the other attendees. In particular, standing and chatting with Nychelle’s father.
When first introduced to the older man, David had been struck by the similarities in looks and deportment between father and daughter, and had been inclined to like the man just on that basis. Now he was wondering how such a cool and pompous man could have produced the warm and friendly Nychelle.
“Nychelle would have made a competent doctor if she’d had the ambition.” Dr. Herman Cory paused to take a sip from the glass in his hand. “Unfortunately she refused to listen to career advice from her mother and me. Luckily her sister makes up for it.”
Annoyed, David lifted his glass to his lips just so he wouldn’t have to reply to Dr. Cory’s comment. Glancing at Nychelle, he saw a half smile tipping her lips, but zero amusement in her eyes. However, she didn’t look surprised at the fact her father was singing her sister’s praises and had been for the last five minutes straight. Apparently it wasn’t anything new.
“Olivia was in the top five percentile in all her courses, and before she even graduated she was being headhunted by the Mayo Clinic and John Hopkins.”
Unable to stand it a moment longer, David replied, “It must be very satisfying to have two such intelligent and talented daughters.”
Dr. Cory waved his hand—somewhat dismissively, David thought. “Of course. It’s just a shame Nychelle isn’t living up to her full potential.”
“I disagree.”
If the circumstances had been different, he’d have been amused at the older man’s obvious surprise at being so clearly contradicted. As it was, Dr. Cory’s arched eyebrows just added to David’s annoyance.
“I have no doubt Nychelle would make an excellent doctor, in any specialty she chose, but as a nurse practitioner she’s fulfilling a vital role at our clinic, and she is one of the very best diagnosticians I’ve come across, whether doctor or nurse.”
The noise Dr. Cory made in the back of his throat didn’t bode well for the direction the conversation was about to take, and David braced himself.
“Being a nurse practitioner is all well and good, but it certainly isn’t the same as being a doctor.”
“Of course it isn’t.” David tried to smile, but it probably looked more like a snarl. “In many ways it’s better. The move we’ve made away from the ‘cradle to grave’ style of medicine, where a family doctor knows his patients over the long term, necessitates people like Nychelle. She can and does take the time to get to know the patients and their histories, without costing the same amount as a doctor would. Without her, and others like her, many more patients would fall through the cracks, or be diagnosed with diseases too late for the doctors to do anything for them.”
Dr. Cory drew himself up to his full height. “It doesn’t change the fact that Nychelle has wasted the opportunity she had to excel in the medical field. If she wanted to be a clinician, then she should have gone to medical school and become a general practitioner. As a father, I find her choices untenable.”
Taking a deep breath and a sip of his drink bought David enough time to control his close to boiling temper.
Once he was assured he wasn’t about to say something he’d regret later, he replied, “Not to put too fine a point on it, sir, but it seems to me your daughter has excelled in the medical field. If she weren’t the best of the best in her specialty I doubt Dr. Hamatty would have hired her, or given her the level of responsibility she has. I think most fathers would be ecstatic to have her as a daughter.”
Silence fell between the three of them, leaving David to wonder if he’d totally overstepped the bounds of politeness the way he feared. Didn’t the man know how lucky he was to have Nychelle? It was infuriating to see that Dr. Cory was so focused on his own wishes he couldn’t even appreciate the joy of fatherhood, much less be proud of the wonderful woman Nychelle had grown into.
What David wouldn’t give for the opportunity to see his daughter growing into a woman. He wouldn’t care what career she chose, as long as she was a good and decent person like Nychelle.
He had the urge to look at Nychelle, to see if she was angry with him, but instead he kept his gaze fixed on her father, willing the stubborn man to concede at least that to his daughter.
“Hey, Nychelle. How are you?”
The interruption, caused by a tall, handsome, dark-skinned man, who bent to hug and kiss Nychelle before turning to shake Dr. Cory’s hand, was welcomed—by David at least. Also by Nychelle, if her smile was any indication.
“Martin. I was wondering where you and Jennifer were.” She turned to hug the short blonde woman who’d been a step behind the man. “Jennifer. Good to see you.” Then she waved a hand in David’s direction. “Have you two met Dr. David Warmington? David, this is my cousin, Dr. Martin Girvan, and his wife, Dr. Jennifer Howard.”
“I do believe I have.”
When Martin Girvan turned to shake David’s hand, a big smile on his thin face, his eyes twinkling from behind thick glasses, David felt a trickle of recognition.
“The New York conference on the international transmission of vector-borne diseases.”
“Yes, of course.” David felt some of the tension ease from the back of his neck at the other man’s warm reception and at the knowledge that, hopefully, the conversation he’d just been engaged in was now over. “Nice to see you again.”
“And you.” Martin threw an arm over his diminutive wife’s shoulders and pulled her closer. “Jen, this is the doctor I told you about—the one who saved me from an uncomfortable situation with a rather tipsy gentleman in the hotel bar.”
David laughed, remembering the incident in question. “I was just glad we were both able to get away unscathed.”
“Are you working in Florida now? I remember you being elsewhere at the time...”
“I was in Chicago. Now I’m at the Lauderlakes clinic.”
“Ah.” Martin smiled. “Snapped up by Dr. Hamatty, eh? And I assume that’s where you met Nychelle?”
All three of them—David, Martin and Jennifer—turned toward where Nychelle had been standing, but she was gone.
Looking over her cousin’s shoulder, David saw her slipping out of the ballroom and with a quick, “Excuse me,” went after her.