Prince Charming, M.D.. Susan Mallery
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“Yeah, right.”
“Dana, I give you my word. I only told one person. Joel Haddock. He spread the rumors, not me.”
Her gaze narrowed. “That’s low, even for you. Joel was your best friend.”
Trevor nodded. “Definitely. Was. Our friendship ended that Monday when I found out what he’d done.” He studied her face. “You don’t believe me.” It wasn’t a question.
“Of course not. Joel was good to me. After everyone knew what we’d done, the boys wanted to talk to me only because they thought I was easy. They tormented me, cornering me in the halls, trying to touch me.” She shuddered at the memory. “Joel was there. He listened and he kept me safe.”
Trevor felt old anger surfacing. He knew what Dana had gone through and he’d been helpless to protect her. “Joel was there because he always had a thing for you. He started the rumor to break us up.” He laughed harshly. “It sure worked. You never spoke to me again. Until today.”
“You said you would change two things,” she told him. “The first was to get me to listen to the truth, such as it is. What’s the second?”
She didn’t believe him. He could see it in her eyes and read it in her body language. He told himself it didn’t matter. He and Dana had to work together, not be friends. But he’d hoped for more. Maybe some forgiveness, or at least a little understanding.
“I wouldn’t have told Joel,” he said. “That was my other mistake. If he hadn’t known what happened, or how I’d fallen for you, he wouldn’t have tried so hard to break us up.” He rose to his feet. “I know that semester was difficult for you. I’m sorry for my part in what happened. But I won’t apologize for that time we spent together. I’ve never forgotten it or you.” He flashed her a smile. “Not that I expect you to believe me.”
“Good, because I don’t.”
She stood, also. She wore a dark-peach coatdress. Chinlength, dark-blond hair had been brushed back from her face. She’d changed from high school. Her features were less rounded, her expression more wary. But her athletic body still moved with a grace that made him think about sultry afternoons and tangled sheets.
“I don’t know that we’ve cleared the air,” Dana said. “But at least everything is out in the open. I’m good at my job, Trevor. Just as you’re good at yours. We’re now forced to work together. I don’t have a problem with that if you don’t. As I said before, I don’t care what you do with your personal life—just don’t do it on my time. I can’t tell you not to see my nurses, but I will ask that you keep your flirtations to a minimum. If I see them affecting the running of this hospital, I won’t hesitate to report you.”
The insult was undeserved, but not unexpected. He told himself Dana was reacting to the truth as she saw it. But it was hard to just let it go.
“No problem,” he said, then headed for the door before he exploded. Several women called out greetings. He nodded pleasantly as he walked to the elevator. Once he was inside and the doors closed, leaving him alone, he gave in to his rage.
He swore long and loud, then hit the wall with a closed fist. Dana thought he was little more than a gigolo, which was what most people believed. That Trevor MacAllister had a woman in every port—or in the case of the hospital, a nurse on every floor and in every department. That he went out with a different one each night, bedded them all in legendary fashion and forgot about them the next day. Out of sight, out of mind.
He didn’t want to make any part of his reputation a reality, but she—like the rest of the world—wouldn’t be interested in something as boring as the truth. The only part of the legend he wanted to be real was the bit about forgetting. If only he could put it all out of his mind—let the past go. He could save himself a lot of sleepless nights...and a lot of pain.
Dana pulled open the dishwasher and began unloading the machine. Despite the beautiful April morning, she felt distracted and edgy. Knowing what caused the feelings didn’t help. Had she been a jogger she would have gone out for a ten-mile run. Maybe she would regrout her shower tiles— anything to take her mind off the source of her trouble. Trevor MacAllister.
She grabbed a handful of silverware and crossed to the drawer next to the refrigerator. It wasn’t fair. After all these years he’d waltzed back into her life as if nothing had ever happened. “For him it hasn’t,” she reminded herself aloud. While he’d been the only guy she’d ever had a crush on in high school, and her first lover, she’d only been one in a line of conquests for him. She hated that she couldn’t stop thinking about him.
The past week had been long and difficult. She’d managed to get through their start-up meeting with a minimum of reaction. At least that’s what she told herself. He couldn’t possibly have known that the entire time he sat so casually in her office, her heart had been pounding and her knees growing weak. She’d felt a flush on her cheeks, but had hoped her makeup was enough to cover it.
So that should be the end of it. Trevor was on staff. Any questions she had could be answered by his office. There was no reason she should have to see him, talk to him or even hear his name. But it wasn’t that simple. For one thing, nearly every female in the hospital was still buzzing about him. For another, she couldn’t seem to escape him. Every time she rounded a corner or exited an elevator they ran into each other. One time he’d been pulling on his white coat over tailored shirt and tie. The height and strength of him had sucked the breath right from her chest. Another time he’d been coming out of surgery, tired, sweaty, with stained scrubs hanging loosely on his body. She shouldn’t have noticed. She never noticed doctors. But she wasn’t that lucky with Trevor. Something about him drew her. Like a moth to a flame, she thought humorlessly. And like that little moth, if she wasn’t careful she would end up a charred piece of nothing blowing away on the breeze.
“This is crazy,” she told herself as she picked up the pot in the top rack of the dishwasher. She carried it to the cupboard, then shoved it in place. “I refuse to spend my weekend thinking about this man. What I need is a distraction.”
She walked through her three-bedroom town house. There were plenty of weekend chores. Cleaning, laundry, some bills to pay. All necessary, but none taxing enough to occupy her thoughts for very long. She considered calling her best friends, but Katie would be busy with Mike, and Lee had mentioned something about going away for the weekend. Which left her on her own.
She eyed the wallpaper in the dining area, but decided stripping the walls was a bit much, even for someone in her condition. Besides, she liked the subtle pattern. Would redecorating really get Trevor out of her head?
She moved back into the kitchen and poured herself some coffee. She could have handled seeing him again, and even talking to him, if only he hadn’t brought up the past. The more she thought about what he’d told her, the more she grew confused. No way did she believe that Joel Haddock had been the one to tell her entire high school what she’d done with Trevor. Yet she couldn’t accept the fact that Trevor was lying. He was many things she admired and many things she despised, but he’d always been completely honest. It didn’t make sense. Maybe—