how to broach the subject of Nina, Alex decided that bluntness was the best way. “You’re right. I’m looking for a woman.”
Amusement sparked in Noah’s eyes. “I’ve never thought of you as a man who would have trouble finding one.”
“Not just any woman. She was a guest at Randi’s wedding. She left before I could get her phone number or her last name.”
The amusement left Noah’s eyes, and he studied his friend speculatively. “If a woman has stayed on your mind this long, it must be serious. Are you considering giving up your bachelor status?”
“No. We Bennett men don’t have much luck in choosing the right woman. Like I’ve told you before, I’ve decided not to even try. When I get ready to have a family, I’ll find someone with all the right attributes…looks, brains…and cut a business deal with her to sire me a couple of heirs.”
“Not all women can be bought,” Noah cautioned.
Alex regarded him dryly. “They all have their price. Love. Money. Power. Security. It’s different for each one. But if what you’re willing to pay doesn’t meet their expectations, they’re gone, searching for greener pastures.”
“You’re a cynic.”
“I prefer to think of myself as a realist. Now, how about helping me find this woman. She’s in her late twenties or maybe early thirties, long black hair, hazel eyes, around five feet, nine inches tall, slender, pretty. Her name’s Nina.”
Noah frowned and leaned back in his chair. “And just why are you looking for this particular woman?”
Alex read the protective glint in his friend’s eyes. “You know her, don’t you?”
“I know someone who matches that description.”
“I have no intention of misusing her,” Alex assured him. “I simply want to make her a business proposition.”
“To sire you a couple of heirs?”
“No.” Alex knew the only way he was going to get Noah’s cooperation was to tell him the whole story. “My grandfather’s dying. He wants me married, so I invented a fiancée. Turns out I found myself describing this Nina. I want to hire her to pose as my fiancée to make Grandfather’s last days happy.”
Noah’s expression remained serious. “I do know of a Nina who matches that description, and she could have been at the lodge that night.”
Alex was aware of his friend’s hesitation. Normally he respected Noah’s opinion and would have asked why Noah seemed less than enthusiastic about him meeting this Nina. But like a predator on the scent of his prey, he refused to be deterred. “My grandfather is the only family I have. I’ll pay the woman well and behave like a gentleman at all times. You have my word on that. Just tell me where I can find her.”
“She’s not your usual type.”
Impatience brought Alex to his feet. “This is important.”
“You’ve always been a man of your word.” Noah hesitated for a moment longer, then said, “Her name is Nina Lindstrom. She was in the MRI waiting room a few minutes ago.”
A jolt of concern shot through Alex. “She’s having a magnetic resonance imaging? What’s wrong with her?”
“Nothing that I know of. It’s her son.”
“Her son? She wasn’t wearing a wedding ring.” A reason for his friend’s hesitation occurred to him. “Is there a jealous ex-husband in the shadows?”
“No. She’s widowed.”
“Thanks.” Alex was already on his way to the door.
“Don’t thank me yet,” Noah called after him.
Ignoring the doubt in his friend’s voice, Alex strode down the hall and punched the button for the elevator. Then, too impatient to wait for it, he headed for the stairs.
Emerging on the second floor, he made his way to the MRI waiting room. Through the windowed wall, he saw her. She was dressed in a faded blue cotton blouse, much-worn jeans and sneakers…all of which he guessed had come off the racks at the local discount store. Her thick black hair was pulled back and worked into a French braid that hung to the middle of her back. She wore only a hint of lipstick for makeup. The strain she was under was evident in her features. Her eyes were closed, and her hands were clasped in her lap, giving the impression she was praying.
This was not the Nina he’d expected to find, nor the place he’d expected to find her. He’d thought she was either one of the idle rich or a successful businesswoman. Clearly she was neither.
He’d pictured himself meeting her at one of the finer restaurants in town. She’d arrive wearing something chic, in red, perhaps, that showed off her figure. Her delicate features would be softly defined by just the right amount of makeup. Her thick black hair would hang loose and flowing around her shoulders. Every man’s head would turn as she crossed the room.
Instead, they were in a hospital, and she looked tired and drained. His plan to ask her to help him fool his grandfather seemed suddenly frivolous. He told himself to leave, find an actress to play the part and forget about Nina Lindstrom. But she looked so close to desperation, he couldn’t make himself walk away. He’d bullied a friend in order to find her. He should at least speak to her.
Hearing someone enter the room, Nina stiffened and prepared herself to hear the worst. Opening her eyes, she thought for a moment she was seeing things. She closed her eyes, then opened them again. She wasn’t seeing things. Alex Bennett was still standing in front of her. Today he was dressed in slacks and a pullover shirt. She guessed his Italian loafers cost more than her entire shoe wardrobe…probably more than her entire wardrobe. She also noticed that even in casual attire, he had an authoritative demeanor that left no doubt in her mind that he never allowed himself to lose command of whatever situation he found himself in.
“It appears our paths have crossed again,” he said.
“Yes.” Recovering from her initial surprise at seeing him, sympathy spread over her features. “I hope the test goes well for whomever you’re here with.”
“I’m not here with anyone.” Unwilling to admit he’d been trying to track her down, he added, “I stopped by the hospital to visit Noah Howell. He’s on staff here, and I saw you. You looked as if you could use a friend.”
Drawing a shaky breath, she glanced through the plate-glass windows in the direction of the testing rooms. “It’s my son Tommy. He’s been ill. Dr. Genkins ordered a brain scan.” The knot of fear in her stomach tightened.
Lucky kid, Alex thought. His mother honestly cared whether he lived or died. In the next instant, he was reminding himself that he’d survived just fine without a mother’s love. “Your son’s in good hands,” he said, recalling Dr. Jim Genkins from one of the charity functions organized to raise money for the hospital. He’d been impressed by the tall, slender, white-haired physician’s dedication. He’d also heard several people, including Noah, praise the man’s ability.
“I know, but that doesn’t make the waiting any easier.” He made her nervous, awakening stirrings that had been
