to help her, but she had already stood and closed
the door. Probably didn’t want to have contact with him. Did she think
he had leprosy or something?
“This way.” He placed his hand at the back of her waist, well aware she
tensed when he did so, but he didn’t care. Dammit, he was just trying to
be nice. The Southern gentleman his grandma raised him to be. The kind
alt the Savannah debutantes would have expected. Yet Rebecca seemed to
have no expectations.
Or desire for him, either.
The maitre d’ seated them at a small table in the corner. The lighting
was dim, the spicy aroma filling the room with delicious odors, the soft
strains of violin music adding to the ambience.
“It smells wonderful.” Rebecca took the menu and studied it, chewing on
her lip.
“May I get you some drinks?” the waiter asked.
“W-water,” Rebecca said.
“I’ll have unsweetened iced tea. And let me see the wine list.” He
opened it and scanned the selections, naming a few for Rebecca to choose
from.
“Wine’s not n-necessary,” she said.
Irritation flitted through him. “Rebecca, we’re just going to have a
glass. I’m not trying to seduce you, so you can relax.”
“I didn’t mean to imply you were. I mean, I’m sure you wouldn’t do such
a thing.”
Did the idea of him seducing her disgust her so much? He exhaled
noisily. “What do you mean?”
“I…” She dropped her head forward, that long, blond hair spilling down
like a silky curtain. “You…you and I. It’s silly.”
Anger deepened his voice. “What’s so silly about it? And why are you
avoiding me?” Had he really blurted that out?
She gaped at him, her big blue eyes enormous beneath those glasses.
“I…who said I was avoiding you?”
“It sure seems that way.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Stop apologizing.”
“You don’t have to raise your voice.”
He closed his eyes and reined in a temper he didn’t even know he
possessed. When he opened them, she was watching him warily. He swore he
saw the beginning of a tear in her eye and felt as if he’d just kicked a
puppy.
“I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s gotten into me.” Literally. Suddenly
hot, he tugged at his collar, then instinctively reached out and covered
her hand with his. She felt delicate and soft, a warmth radiating from
her hand to his. He’d never been claustrophobic, but he suddenly felt
closed in. At the same time he contemplated what it would feel like to
pull her in his arms. “I guess I misunderstood. You’ve been so
standoffish I thought you disliked me.”
A whispery breath escaped her. “It’s not that. I just know you wouldn’t
try to seduce a girl like me.”
Was she crazy? “And why not?”
Her eyelashes fluttered. “We…have nothing in common.”
“Sometimes opposites attract.”
“But you’re outgoing. I’m too sh-shy. Too quiet. Bookish.”
“I like books. And quiet people are good listeners.”
A small smile curved her pink lips.
“Besides, we’re just talking about being friends,” he said, determined
to put her at ease. He didn’t want to seduce her. Did he?
“Right.”
Was that disappointment lacing her voice? He studied her, trying to read
her reaction, but the waiter interrupted, and he ordered two glasses of
Merlot. She chose a northern Italian salmon pasta with artichoke hearts
and he ordered the steak and lobster.
After the waiter brought their drinks, he raised his glass, but his hand
trembled just as it had the first time he’d entered a delivery room,
which was ridiculous. Seeing Rebecca was nothing like taking his first
giant step into medicine. “Can we start over?”
She nodded and met his gaze. This time her vibrant blue eyes sparkled
with interest, and his belly tightened.
“To f-friendship.”
She clinked his glass. “To
Hundreds of Years to Reform a Rake