a yes. He had kind eyes, though—eyes she caught herself trusting easily.
“Would you be more comfortable in the bar than my hotel room, or maybe having dinner?” He glanced at her father. “The lobster here is fabulous.”
“This is not a date, Dr Killian,” Solange countered, not sure what to make of this whole thing. It was promising, but on what level? Personal, professional? Was he simply scouting a bedmate for the night or honestly interested in listening to her? “I don’t need to be entertained in a bar, and I certainly don’t need lobster, fabulous or otherwise.”
Paul chuckled. “You really don’t give up.”
“I really can’t give up. My medical practice is expanding now that the villagers in the mountains are getting used to me, and even trusting me. And I want to get this arrangement taken care of before there’s an urgent need. I’m assuming that you’ll make your facilities available to my patients. Or am I mistaken?”
“Of course I’ll make my facilities available.”
“Which leaves us to the ways, Dr Killian.”
“And the means, Dr Léandre. I always have to figure in the means.” Paul glanced over at her father, who was beginning to inch closer to hear the conversation. “So about that lobster dinner…?”
Solange smiled. In spite of her caution, she liked him. He was to the point, but charmingly so. And he did so tempt her to veer off course for a little while. “I do like lobster, but I’m not dressed for the dining room and I’m sure there’s a dress code, so I’m afraid I’ll have to pass on the offer.” Safe comeback, and on the personal side, all she wanted was safe.
Paul took Solange’s arm. “You’re dressed better than anyone you’ll find in the dining room, in my opinion anyway. But I’m afraid you’re right about a dress code, so—”
Solange thrust her palm out to stop him. “So this is where you get me up to your room?”
“Purely lobster. And talk. I can give you an hour, but that’s all.”
He was back to business. That was good, because that’s all she could cope with. “So I’ll take that hour, and your lobster.”
He arched his eyebrows suggestively. “More’s the pity this is only business, because you’re good, Dr Léandre.” Paul laughed as he held out his arm to escort her to his hotel room. “Very good.”
“So are you, Dr Killian.” Good, she was sure, in ways she would never know.
CHAPTER TWO
PAUL’S room was heaven. Solange followed him through the door and simply stopped and stared before she was all the way inside. Pure heaven, just the way she remembered these rooms to be from her childhood. Red tile floor, two colonial king-sized beds, a vast picture window with a marvelous view of the pristine beach outside, and of the blue ocean beyond it.
Even though it was nearly dark outside now, in the pinks and golds of the twilight she could see a sailboat making its way slowly to port, its tall white sails fluttering lazily in the early evening breeze. She’d gone sailing out there with her family so many times. Her parents, her sister Solaina. Those had been good times, and she almost ached from the memory of them. But that had been so long ago, and nothing now, or in her future, was about sailboats or any of the other luxuries with which she’d grown up. She didn’t miss them much, though, because she had the memories, and nothing now could come close to that.
“The bathroom,” Solange whispered, crossing over to take a peek at the bathtub. White porcelain, deep, and curved in a way she was sure would fit to her well. Solange sighed wistfully. Only a few months up in the mountains and she’d already forgotten how nice a long soak in the tub could feel. Now it was a matter of a quick, usually cold, shower. Function over luxury. And time necessitated expediency because, no matter where she was, she was expected someplace else.
But this bathroom was so nice, she did indulge herself the fantasy of it all for a moment, picking up the scallop-sculpted soap nestled into a large abalone shell sitting at the washbasin. The lavender scent of it wafted up to greet her, and she quickly replaced the soap in its abalone shell for fear that getting caught up in the luxuries here would distract her.
“Feel free to use it,” Paul said. “Any of it. All of it.”
She laughed. “Am I being that obvious?”
“Like a kid in a candy store.”
“Out in the jungle there aren’t any such luxuries. We have buildings and we have the basics, but lavender soap…Frère Léon buys lye soap from one of the villages and, believe me, it doesn’t come close to smelling this nice.” On her way out of the bathroom, Solange stepped in front of the mirror over the vanity, almost afraid to take a look.
Her first glance at herself was such a shock. “Mon Dieu!” she whispered. Slowly lifting her hand to her face, she brushed it across her cheek, then her lips, then she raised it to her hair and ran her fingers through it. “I’ve aged so much,” she said. Her eyes were almost hollow, her hair so wild. And she was so thin…Turning away, she smiled self-consciously. “I haven’t been in front of a mirror for months and after all this time I’m afraid it’s quite a shock.”
“Then we must be looking at two different images, because what I’m seeing is absolutely stunning.”
“Kind words, Doctor, but not the ones I want to hear from you.”
“That’s right. You came to discuss lab tests and X-rays.” He laughed. “It seems to be a family trait. Your father’s a stubborn man—”
“I’m not stubborn,” Solange interrupted, turning out the bathroom light and stepping out into the hallway. “I wouldn’t argue the point over my father being stubborn, but I like to consider myself persistent.” She smiled at him, hoping not to seem too pushy. “Persistent with a purpose.”
“And I always thought that was called stubborn. My mistake.” Paul placed the palm of his right hand flat against his chest and gave her a slight bow. “And my sincerest apologies to the persistent lady. I’ll never make that mistake again.”
“Accepted,” she said, laughing. Paul was quite the charmer, and she shouldn’t be paying attention to him in a personal sense, or even liking him as anything other than a business contact. But she did, and it was very foolish! She knew that. She’d had a charmer for three years and look how that had turned out.
So why was she still susceptible? Especially when anything personal had the potential to make this situation between Paul and her difficult. She needed professional—colleague to colleague. Nothing else. Maybe not ever again, because it was turning out that being on her own wasn’t as bad as she’d feared it might have been. In fact, she rather liked her life, coming and going as she pleased. Nothing but the work to dictate her time and attention. Without Mauricio, life was good now, better than it had been in a long time, and she aimed to keep it that way. Meaning no more charmers!
“So now that you stand corrected about my persistence, shall we work out the details of your hospital schedule and arrange the best way for my patients to be seen there?” Solange went to sit on one of the two rattan chairs in a grouping at the end of the beds.
“That’s
