to gaze out the window, overcome with emotion for the man who’d helped her become a better doctor, had helped her realize her dreams and had sent her here. Batting away tears and battling emotions from she knew not what, she reached for her phone and dialed Ian’s cell phone. The call went to voicemail. She left a brief message, plopped down on the bed and fought off a wave of melancholy.
“You’re exhausted, Doctor. You need sleep and a shower.” And not necessarily in that order.
She walked into the oversized bathroom, stripped off her clothes and stepped into the marble shower. Her goals were to rinse off the weariness and the grime from her journey—and to hopefully wash away her gloominess as well. But as she brushed the loofah sponge over her body, images of sexy eyes and succulent lips, of broad shoulders and long, lean legs flitted across her mind’s eye. She tried to tell herself it was the man from her dream. But, no. The person she was envisioning was all too real. The type of man that women like Faye could only dream about. The type that beautiful women dated, and lucky women married. Like the woman in the lobby, perhaps, the woman whom the man of her dreams had kissed on the cheek. Of course he’d be attracted to someone sexy and flawless. Not someone like her.
Chapter 3
“I saw you!” Marissa Drake said after their greeting, eyeing her brother-in-law with playful suspicion.
“What?”
“Dexter Drake! Don’t even try it. I saw you looking at and flirting with the woman who was waiting by the elevator.”
“Who? The toned, natural-looking sister, about five-seven or eight, with the long legs and cute tush? Naw, I wasn’t looking at her.”
“Right. You weren’t paying her any attention at all.” They laughed as Marissa hooked her arm through his and they began walking toward the hotel entrance. Even before marrying Dexter’s brother, Donovan, a year ago, she and the youngest Drake had developed a special bond. Part of it was his effervescent personality, and part of it was the fact that when both Donovan and Marissa were trying to deny their mutual attraction, Dexter forced his brother’s hand by jokingly implying he was interested in Marissa. He’d threatened to ask her out if Donovan didn’t. That had led to a scowling “don’t you dare” from his more reserved brother followed by a campaign from Donovan for Marissa’s love that would have impressed a presidential candidate. Marissa thought about a particular conversation that took place during this time, and chuckled.
“What’s funny?”
“Nothing, just thinking.” An improbable thought came to her mind, but she dismissed it immediately. Dexter may be a matchmaker. She was not. Besides, Dexter liked sultry, flashy women. The woman at the elevator did not at all look his type. “So...what has a Drake Wines executive pulling kitchen duty on a Thursday afternoon?”
“Huh? Oh, right.” Dexter knew that one could see the door to the kitchen when sitting at the end of the bar. Marissa had obviously seen him exit it. “I was meeting with the chef to make sure that everything is in place for Papa’s party tomorrow.” David Drake Sr., Dexter’s great-grandfather, whom everyone affectionately called Papa Dee, had been born on the sprawling, mountainous land inherited by his grandfather almost two centuries ago. His centenary celebration would be the resort’s highlight of the month. “The kitchen staff is as excited as the rest of us and has done a bang-up job.”
“I’m really looking forward to the party. It’s going to be wonderful to pay tribute to Papa Dee in this way.”
“What about you? What had you sipping wine at the bar on a Thursday?”
“On my way back from Riverside and decided to drop by.”
“What’s going on in Riverside?”
“A good friend of mine recently divorced and moved back there. I went to help her settle in and offer moral support. I’d thought about meeting Don here, maybe having dinner with the in-laws. But when I reached him he reminded me about the meeting he had with your cousin.”
Dexter smiled at the mention of his cousin, Warren Drake, part of the clan formerly known as the Drakes of Louisiana. Several years ago, four of the six brothers in that family had relocated to Northern California, when gold had been discovered on land that had been in their family for decades. The siblings had incorporated the land, founded a town and were soon movers and shakers in Paradise Valley, California. Most of the Drakes of Louisiana were now the Drakes of California, just like their cousins. They were also smart and shrewd with business savvy, which is why Donovan was meeting with Warren—to expand their businesses and their brands.
They exited the hotel. “So...what does your friend look like?” Dexter asked. “Is she fine?”
Marissa gave Dexter the side eye. “You are not interested. She has four children.”
“Whoa!”
“Ha! Thought that would make you put that player card back in your pocket. Everyone knows you’re allergic to kids.”
“That’s not true. Kids are cool...as long as they’re not mine.”
“So everything is set for Papa Dee’s party?” Marissa asked, clearly not up for a debate on the value of anyone’s next generation and changing the subject to prove it.
Dexter nodded. “Because of the RSVPs and sold-out rooms, we had to expand the menu, but I consider that a good problem to have. They are working hard to make sure his favorite dishes are executed to perfection.”
“What about the cake?”
“That’s being done by an outside company, one that specializes in imaging. It will feature a picture of Papa, set against a vineyard backdrop, with one hundred candles lighting the way from the countryside to the hotel.”
“Wow. Papa Dee is turning one hundred years old. I can’t even imagine what it will feel like to be in this crazy world another seventy years.”
“I can’t imagine it either,” Dexter said. “But I hope I get to experience it.” They reached his car. “Where are you parked?”
“Not far.”
“You want to ride to the house with me and join us for dinner, since Don is acting like the workaholic that he is?”
“Thanks, Dexter, but no. I think I’ll head on home and make dinner for two.”
“Listen to you sounding all domesticated.”
“Marriage will do that to you,” Marissa said with a laugh. “You ought to try it.”
“Naw, I’m good.”
“Are you sure?”
“Positive. You saw what happened to the last woman who tried to tie me down.”
“I sure did, but I respect Maria. You can’t be mad at a woman in her thirties who doesn’t want to continue dating—” Marissa used air quotes “—for the next ten years.”
Dexter opened his car door. “On that female-biased note, I’m out.”
“Ha! Whatever.”
“I’ll
