Doctors in the Wedding Read online

  Reaching up to nudge his hat with his thumb, he drawled, “At your service, ma’am.”

  Oh, my. Turned out there was a very nice face hidden beneath the brim of that dashing fedora. Dark hair, dark eyes, olive skin, white teeth, just a hint of a dint in a strong, square jaw. Yum.

  Remembering that he had asked her a question, she silently cleared her throat before explaining, “My parents met at a sci-fi convention in the ’70s. My late father was an avid Trekkie, and mom still likes science fiction.”

  He chuckled, and she took another quick sip of her drink. He was even more attractive when he smiled. She couldn’t help noticing that the right side of his mouth tilted into a hint of a dimple just at the corner of his lips.

  “And what about your costume?” He lowered his dark gaze from her face to study her revealing outfit. “Are you portraying a particular character?”

  She felt a funny little quiver follow the path of his survey all the way down to her exposed leg. Taking another sip of her drink, she shook her head. “Just a generic gypsy fortune-teller.”

  “You’re much too stunning to be described as generic,” he commented, his deep tone intensifying her quiver to a full-blown tingle.

  “Thank you. You look quite dashing, yourself.” She took another long swallow of the drink, looking up at him through her heavily darkened lashes.

  “That drink looks good.”

  She lowered the now-empty glass. “It was. Very good.”

  “There are some tempting snacks on those tables across the room. Would you like to join me on a food raid, Esmeralda?”

  Amused by his wording, she lifted an eyebrow. “Esmeralda?”

  With a chuckle, he shrugged. “Sounds like a gypsy fortune-teller name to me.”

  She hesitated only a moment before setting her glass on a tray and tucked a hand beneath the arm he offered with a flourish. “I’d be delighted to accompany you on a food raid, Dr. Jones.”

  “Maybe after we eat, you can read my fortune in the champagne glass.”

  A little giggle escaped her. “That’s tea leaves. I don’t think they’re serving tea tonight.”

  “Then you can read my palm.”

  She rather liked the image of cradling his hand in hers. “Maybe I will.”

  His arm flexed a little beneath her fingers, and she felt the strength there. Obviously this man stayed in very good physical condition. He carried himself with an athlete’s grace befitting his choice of costume.

  She supposed they should get around to introducing themselves eventually. But at the moment, it was so much fun pretending he was a globe-trotting archeologist and she a mysterious gypsy. Threading their way through the milling partygoers, they approached the tables. He nodded familiarly to several of the people they passed, a few of whom did visible double takes upon recognizing him. Either they hadn’t expected to see him there, or this was not the costume they would have predicted from him.

  “Dude. Looking sharp,” someone said, tipping her off that the latter guess was likely correct.

  “So, Jones—see anything that looks good?” she asked, studying the almost-dizzying array of sweets and treats on the snacks tables.

  “As a matter of fact, I do.” He wasn’t looking at the food.

  She savored the little ripple of sensual awareness that coursed down her spine in response to his tilted smile. It had definitely been too long since she’d spent an evening flirting with a charming stranger.

  A colorful selection of more mixed drinks was displayed nearby. She plucked a tall, thin glass from the table and tasted the clear liquid appreciatively. “Mmm. Good. You should try this.”

  He reached out to take the drink from her, holding her gaze with his when he lifted the glass to sip from exactly where her lips had just touched. “You’re right. That is good.”

  The ripple of awareness turned into a tsunami. She snatched the glass back from him. He reached for a drink of his own. Their backs to the rest of the party, they stood close together while they filled their snack plates. It was necessary to stand that close, just so they could hear each other over the music.

  Right.

  She laughed when he slipped a pecan tart onto her already-full plate. “No more,” she insisted. “I can’t eat all of this.”

  He eyed his own equally full plate with satisfaction. “I’m going to make a valiant effort.”

  Turning away from the table, which was becoming crowded as other guests followed their example in helping themselves to the food, he peered into shadowy corners where seating had been arranged. “Where shall we take these?”

  He was making the assumption that she would be eating with him. Fair enough. “Wherever we can find an empty space, I suppose. Not too close to the speakers, though. That music is really loud.”

  “Werewolves of London” was the current selection, and every wailed “aaahoo” made her eardrums vibrate. She wished someone would turn down the volume a bit. And then she winced, deciding she was sounding old and stodgy again. She renewed her earlier vow to abandon herself to the party tonight. Starting with sharing decadent snacks with a handsome adventurer.

  If he found her comment off-putting, he didn’t let it show, to her relief. “I have an idea. Follow me.”

  Happily, she thought, staying close behind him as he wound his way through the costumed revelers. She didn’t even hesitate when he slipped through a set of French doors that led out to a cobblestoned courtyard.

  Beautifully landscaped and discreetly lighted, the courtyard was small and quiet, fenced with wrought-iron. There were no tables, but several iron benches lined the sides. A pretty little fountain in the center of the circular garden added the soothing sound of splashing water to the tableau.

  Madison was a little surprised that they were the only ones outside on this nice autumn evening. October had been accompanied by very warm temperatures in Dallas this year, and while the air had cooled with sunset, she was comfortable even in her off-the-shoulder blouse. She supposed it was still early enough in the party that the others weren’t yet ready to escape; or maybe no one had yet spotted the doors hidden among the over-the-top decorations.

  Her companion nodded in satisfaction. “We can eat in peace here, if you don’t mind balancing your plate on your knees.”

  “I don’t mind at all.”

  “Maybe you can tell my fortune while we eat?”

  So they were still in character. Fun. She glanced at his coiled whip. “Only if you promise to protect me if any evildoers try to attack.”

  “It’s a deal.”

  She chuckled and sank onto one of the benches, setting her drink on the wide arm. He sat beside her, leaving sufficient room between them that she didn’t feel uncomfortable but close enough to be companionable. She popped a shrimp puff into her mouth and sighed in satisfaction.

  He dabbed at his mouth with a black paper napkin. “Good food. I had a sandwich for lunch—I think. It was so long ago, I hardly remember.”

  She smiled. “Digging up mysterious artifacts keeps you that busy?”

  “You have no idea.”

  She wasn’t in any hurry to discuss work, neither her own nor whatever his job might be. That would only lead to talk about other everyday topics that would bring an end to this diverting charade. Of course she was curious about this man’s real name, what he did, how he knew BiBi and Carl—but she was content to savor the passing moments until they got around to that point.

  “Did you get one of these chocolate-dipped apricots?” he asked.

  She glanced at her plate. “No, I don’t think so.”

  He held an apricot to her lips. “You should taste it. Really good.”

  Her gaze locking with his, she took a bite.

  The noise from the party
drifted through the glass doors behind them, seeping into the quiet of the courtyard. A cool breeze toyed with her hair and brushed her cheek like a faint caress. Overhead, a misty gray cloud drifted across the face of the silver moon, adding to the fantasy feel of this beguiling encounter.

  “Good?” he asked, his voice low, deep.

  “Mmm.” She licked a spot of chocolate from her lower lip. “Very good.”

  “You missed a spot.” Still looking into her eyes, he touched his fingertip to the corner of her mouth.

  Feeling that contact all the way to her bone marrow, she lifted her eyebrows and spoke lightly. “I think you are flirting with me, Dr. Jones.”

  His soft laughter was as rich and delicious as the chocolate. “I don’t believe it takes a crystal ball to see that, lovely Esmeralda. And my name is Jason, by the way.”

  So she knew his real name now—at least part of it. And it didn’t affect the magic at all, she realized. “I’m Madison.”

  He grinned as though acknowledging how amusing it was that they’d waited this long to get around to swapping first names. “Delighted to meet you, Madison.”

  Her gold bracelets jingled when she set her almost-empty plate aside and lifted her drink to her lips again, watching him over the rim of her glass. She supposed she should get back to the party—she hadn’t participated at all, actually, and BiBi would surely wonder where she was—but how often did a girl get to sit in the moonlight with a fantasy hero?

  “Speaking of crystal balls—” he set his own plate and glass aside “—you were going to read my palm after we ate?”

  Looking up at him through her lashes, she drew a fingertip slowly down the center of his outstretched hand. “I see danger and adventure in your future, Dr. Jones.”

  His lips twitched as though she’d said something wryly amusing. “Do you, now?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “And do I survive all that danger and adventure?”

  “No question,” she assured him. “I can tell you are a man who is successful at any challenge he takes on.”

  Actually, she thought she might be right about that, though she based the presumption more on intuition than mysticism.

  Looking pleased by her words, he asked in the same light tone, “Do you foresee a dance with a captivating gypsy in my near future?”

  She liked the idea of being held in those strong arms, nestled against that broad chest. “I’d be—”

  But her acceptance was cut short abruptly when the French doors opened and a couple of partiers spilled out into the courtyard, laughing so loudly and freely that there was no doubt their humor was fueled at least in part by alcohol.

  “Ooh, are you telling fortunes out here?” a giggly vampiress in too-little black fabric and too much red lipstick demanded of Madison. “Tell mine!”

  “No, I—”

  “Here, read my palm.”

  The woman stuck out her hand toward Madison, then stumbled a little on her stiletto heels. The chubby caped hero with her caught her before she fell, but not before she knocked Madison’s glass out of her hand. Madison gasped as the cold liquid trickled down her blouse and between her breasts.

  “Oops.” The other woman covered her mouth with one black-nailed hand, trying not to laugh but failing. “Sorry.”

  Madison was already on her feet, as was her now-frowning companion. She was sure he was trying only to help when he reached out with his napkin to dab at her wet chest.

  She caught his wrist, keeping him from swabbing any lower. “I’ll just slip into the ladies’ room and tidy up.”

  “Oh, uh—” As if he’d suddenly realized what he was doing, he grimaced sheepishly and drew back his hand. “Good idea. I’ll clear away our dishes.”

  “Thank you.”

  “I’ll find you later?” he asked as she moved toward the doors.

  She sent him a look over her shoulder. “You can try.”

  He grinned. “I’m always up for a challenge.”

  Oh, wow, that grin was as dangerous as the whip hanging from his belt. She continued reluctantly toward the ballroom, resisting an impulse to fan her cheeks with one hand. Behind her, she heard the unabashed vampiress say loudly, “Come dance with me, Indiana. Old stodgy here doesn’t like to dance.”

  “Hey!”

  Leaving them to sort it out, Madison made her way through the mingling crowd toward the ladies’ room.

  She was just finishing her cleanup when the restroom door opened and BiBi entered. Her genie hat was askew, and she paused in front of the mirror to straighten it.

  “Some dippy woman on the dance floor just about knocked me off my feet,” she complained. “Waving her arms around like she was sending semaphore flag messages and calling that dancing. Didn’t even bother to apologize when she lurched off the dance area and into the group I was trying to talk to.”

  “Let me guess—she’s dressed like a vampire?”

  BiBi laughed wryly and looked at Madison’s drying blouse. “Yep. I don’t know her, she must have come as a guest of one of Carl’s associates. You’ve met her, I take it?”

  “So to speak.”

  “I don’t think it’s blood she’s been drinking tonight.”

  “Not unless it’s ninety-proof blood,” Madison agreed ruefully, dabbing one last time at her blouse before tossing the paper towel into the trash.

  “So where have you been? I haven’t seen you since we came down from my suite.”

  “Just having snacks and mingling,” Madison evaded.

  She wasn’t quite ready to share her evening’s harmless diversion with her friend. She didn’t want to risk having BiBi tell her that the debonair adventurer she’d flirted with in the moonlight was really a twice-divorced used car salesman with three kids he didn’t support and a reputation for running cons on gullible, overworked, romance-starved women.

  She was amused by her own overwrought imagination. From hero to pig, she thought with a shake of her head. She imagined reality was somewhere in between. But for now, she’d like to keep the hero fantasy alive. Just for a little while longer.

  “Have you been having fun?” she asked to take the attention away from her own activities.

  BiBi beamed. “Oh, yes. Carl looks so handsome in his astronaut uniform—have you seen him yet?”

  “Yes. He looks great. Did you choose his costume, too?”

  “Of course. Everyone’s been toasting us, and telling us how great we look and how much they look forward to all the wedding festivities. I have to admit, I’m digging this bride thing. You probably aren’t surprised to hear that I’m loving the attention.”

  Laughing, Madison shook her head. “Not at all surprised. But I’m delighted for you, Beebs. You deserve all the happiness you and Carl will have together.”

  “Aw, thanks, Maddie.”

  “So, what about Corinna? Has the alien princess captured her reluctant prince’s heart this evening?”

  BiBi’s dreamy smile dipped into a scowl. “We haven’t even seen him tonight. I guess he decided not to come, or he got tied up at work or something. I thought he said he was staying here at the hotel to avoid having to commute back and forth from his condo on the other side of Dallas, but maybe he changed his mind, or isn’t checking in until tomorrow. Corinna’s disappointed, even if she is getting plenty of attention from other guys, and even though she’s pretty sure nothing’s going to happen, anyway. Maybe instead of encouraging her, I should be advising her to give up and try to find someone else. I worry that she’s going to get her heart broken.”

  “I hate to say this, but it sounds to me as if he’s just not that into her. I mean, that’s what he told her, right?”

  BiBi sighed. “Yeah. But this weekend could be the perfect chanc
e for him to change his mind if he and Corinna spend some quality time together, you know?”

  “I think it’s very sweet that you’re looking out for your sister,” Madison answered diplomatically. “I also think you’re seeing the world through very romantic eyes right now, understandably so.”

  “Maybe you’re right. As a matter of fact,” BiBi added with a giggle, “there’s someone I want you to meet. I think he’s just your type. I can’t wait to introduce you.”

  Wouldn’t it be interesting if the man BiBi had in mind was dressed as Indiana Jones tonight? Because, talk about her type…

  “His name is Allen,” BiBi added with a toss of her ponytail.

  Madison told herself she wasn’t disappointed. Of all the men in attendance at tonight’s party, what were the odds that Jason would have been the match BiBi had chosen for her?

  Three women in colorful costumes swept into the restroom before Madison could politely assert that she wasn’t looking for a fix-up while she was in town. Descending on the stalls and mirrors, the newcomers greeted BiBi, who introduced them all to Madison. Their conversation effectively at an end, Madison and BiBi then headed back to the party.

  Madison scanned for a battered fedora as soon as she entered the raucous ballroom. A squarely built soldier in a red coat, ruffled shirt, khaki breeches and a white, ponytailed wig stepped into her path, blocking her view. He studied her with bright blue eyes as he asked BiBi, “Who is this lovely lady with you this evening, Lady BiBi? Can you wrinkle your genie nose and convince her to give me a dance?”

  Laughing at his foolishness, BiBi slapped the man’s arm playfully. “Allen, you’re so silly. We were just talking about you. Maddie, this is Carl’s cousin, Allen Burleson. Allen, this is Dr. Madison Baker, one of my dearest friends since college.”

  Sweeping his tricorn hat into a deep bow, Allen grinned up at Madison. “Delighted to meet you. May I have the pleasure of this dance?”

  Calling on the manners her mother had drilled into her from birth, Madison smiled brightly and gave him her full attention, rather than continuing to search the room as she was tempted to do. “Of course.”