Chapter Eight
Claire
After three days at work, the gala seemed like a dream spun out of a fairytale. My nurses pushed me for details, so I gave them a severely edited version: my dress was a hit, I danced, Reese drank too much, and we left early.
Then Julie found a photograph of Steele and I spinning across the dance floor.
"You didn't tell us you danced with Steele Channing!" Julie charged over from the nurse's station and waved the printed photograph over my patient's broken leg.
"Like the billionaire?" the young man asked.
"Exactly." Julie brandished the photograph again. "And you didn't think that was an important detail?"
I shrugged. "It didn't really come up. All the men were in tuxedoes, everyone looked like a million bucks," I said.
Julie dropped the photograph on the gurney and threw her hands up in disgust. I glanced over to see the other nurses crowded around their computer. If they were that excited, how would they react if I told them Steele and I had kissed?
Just the thought kicked on a furnace deep in my belly. I could feel the heat reaching all the way up to spread a blush across my cheeks.
I still couldn't believe it had happened. No matter how many times a day my mind drifted to that tight staircase and Steele's smiling eyes level with mine, it just didn't seem real.
"Whoa, Doc, is that you?" the young man with the broken leg asked.
I rolled my eyes. "It was just one night. An anomaly. This is more my speed."
He glanced up from the photograph of my black satin gown and gave my blood-smeared scrubs a critical look. "Bummer," he said.
"Dr. West, you have a phone call. Dr. West, you have a phone call," the PA system announced loudly.
I glanced over and saw Julie holding out the phone receiver and waggling her eyebrows.
"You're feeling better now?" I asked my patient. He nodded now that the pain medicine was kicking in. "I'll be back in just a moment to set your leg and then we'll get to work on that cast."
I peeled off my gloves and trudged over to the nurse's station. Julie hopped from one foot to another in excitement and I noticed the other nurses hovering nearby.
"Your phone service forwarded the call. It's a gentleman for you," Julie said.
"It's probably just Reese," I said.
In fact, I hoped it was my brother. The morning after the gala, he'd apologized profusely and then slunk away before I left for work. He'd stayed out of the way for days, but the peace and quiet were anything but comforting.
I took the phone from Julie. "Hello? This is Claire."
"You're a hard woman to get ahold of, Claire," Steele said. "Sorry to bother you but your phone service connected me. I hope I'm not interrupting anything."
I smothered a smile. If Steele had been connected through the phone service then he would have no idea he had reached me in the middle of the ER. Otherwise, he would have known that my day was nothing but interruption after interruption.
"I'm so glad you got ahold of me," I said. "Though, fair warning, I might have to go soon."
Steele chuckled. "Me too, so I'll make this brief. You, me, dinner and drinks tonight. Can I pick you up?"
My head spun like a carousel and the sensation made me want to giggle. Instead, I straightened my face and glared at the hovering nurses. "I'll meet you," I said.
"Then it's a date," Steele said. "I'll leave the details with your phone service."
We said quick goodbyes, both relieved that the other was just as pressed for time. I turned back toward my patient with the broken leg, but Julie barred my way.
"That wasn't your brother," she said.
I brushed her aside and gave the orders for the cast materials.
"How do you know?" I asked when she dogged me across the ER floor. "I barely spoke more than ten words."
"Reese keeps you on the phone longer. And you don't smile like that when it's your brother," Julie said.
"And I don't discuss my personal life at work," I said.
My friend glared at me and accepted the challenge. "Fine. I'll swing by in the morning and we can commute together. Unless you end up with company at breakfast."
I laughed but turned my attention to the task at hand. Still, as I set the patient's broken leg and began the cast, Steele was in the back of my mind. My hand was on his cheek, his arms slipping around my waist, our lips brushing each other’s. . .
"Dr. West?" Julie called me back to the present. "I believe our young man here would prefer green to hot pink."
I looked down at the roll in my hands and shook my head. I reminded myself that I'd have plenty of time to think about Steele's lips later, during our date.
* * * * *
The first words out of Steele's mouth made me laugh. No sooner had I sat down across from him had he asked, "How was work?"
I'd spent the entire day trying to keep work and my date separate. "Wine first?" I asked.
Steele grinned. "Work should stay at work? I like it. What kind of wine do you like?"
I glanced around but couldn't come up with a good answer. The restaurant was small but lavishly decorated: all dark shining wood and flickering mercury glass candle holders. I eye balled the thick, leather-bound wine list and knew I was far out of my league.
"Red?" I asked.
Steele flicked his wrist and the sommelier rushed over. "We're taking the night off from decision-making, Devon. The wine choice is in your hands. Something red," Steele said.
"Will Chef be choosing your menu then, sir?" Devon asked.
I shrugged so Steele nodded and the sommelier rushed off to inform the staff.
"So, besides busy at work, how have you been?" Steele leaned across the table and caught my hand.
I tried to remain casual as his threaded his fingers through mine even though every nerve in my body was doing a bright jig.
"Fine? Sorry. I don't know. Busy at work feels like all there is sometimes," I said.
"No more drama with your, um, friend?" Steele asked.
I sighed. "No. Not yet. Though I have a feeling I'll be hearing from Reese again soon. He always pops up at the worst times."
Discussing Reese would only stir up my growing concern for my brother, and that was the last thing I wanted to be thinking about with Steele across from me.
Steele nodded sympathetically. "I've known plenty of friends like that. The kind who only shows up when they need something."
"How about you?" I asked, changing the subject. "What sort of things do you do outside of work? Hobbies?"
Steele chuckled. "I'm not really the arts and crafts kind of guy."
"So, what kind of guy are you?" I asked.
We reluctantly let go of hands as the sommelier returned with our first glass of wine. A white-gloved waiter appeared behind him and gave us a selection of appetizers prepared especially for us by the chef himself. After Steele went through the motions of sampling and approving the wine selection, the food and drinks were forgotten.
"If I had to choose a hobby, it would be motorcycles," Steele said.
I was glad I hadn't picked up my wine glass because I would have sloshed it all over the fine linen tablecloth. "Motorcycles? Like one of those fancy Ducati?"
Steele shook his head vehemently. "No crotch rockets for me. I'm a Harley man."
I considered him, taking in his designer suit and silk tie. No matter that his tailor was a genius, Steele's shoulders still strained against the fine material. And I knew from experience that his arms were solid, hard muscle beneath his crisp white dress shirt.
"You know, I can actually see that. I bet it feels good to do something so different from your day to day," I said.
Steele looked up from where he'd been picking at his napkin. "It does. I'm so glad you get it."
I smiled, charmed by his shyness and sudden relief. "Some days I wish I could just tear out of work and do something wild like that. Leave it all behind even if it's just for a few miles," I admitted.
Steele picked up his wine glass and we toasted to leaving work behind for a while. "Though you've never told me what it is exactly that keeps you so busy all day," he reminded me.
I opened my mouth to tell him about the ER when I felt a buzzing in my purse. "Sorry. Speaking of work, I need to check this message."
He winked at me and turned his attention to the appetizers while I quickly checked my text message. Instead of the update on a gunshot victim I had been expecting, it was a hurried message from Reese:
Need you. Pick me up. ASAP.
"What is it? Something happen?" Steele asked. He put down a delicate crab cake and leaned forward, his concern reflecting my reaction.
"Oh, god. I'm so sorry, but I think I have to go," I said. Three more messages buzzed into my phone, all Reese, all desperate.
"Was it something I said?" Steele joked.
I shook my head, fighting back tears. "This is terrible. I wouldn't go if it didn't seem urgent. It's a family thing."
All humor gone, Steele stood up and held out his hand. "I'll walk you to your car."
I opened my purse and pulled out my wallet. "What about dinner?" I asked.
Steele laughed. "No. Put that away. Don't worry about a thing. Raincheck?"
"Are you sure? So far, I've been a terrible date," I said.
He took my hand and squeezed it. "Normally it's me that has to jump up and leave to take care of some work emergency. It's nice to give someone else a turn for a change."
We walked hand in hand around the corner to where I'd jammed my car into a parallel parking spot. The street lamp above us flickered and went dark. I looked up and Steele kissed me.
"Sorry." He mumbled against my lips. "You have your mind on other things."
I threw my arms around his neck and kissed him back. Steele stumbled in surprise and pressed me up against the side of my car. The pressure of his body against mine caused a surging response of desire. I stretched up and leaned further into the kiss.
Only the insistent buzzing of my phone broke up our rising passion.
"I have to go," I whimpered, painfully disappointed.
Steele rested his forehead on my shoulder for a moment and chuckled. "Just give me a second. You make me feel like a teenager again."
"Well, we did just make-out in the middle of the street," I said.
"Continue this tomorrow?" Steele stole one more tasty kiss before he stepped back.
I nodded then knotted my fingers into a fist. "I have to work tomorrow until late."
"Late doesn't bother me. I have overseas conference calls all the time, so I'm used to staying up late," Steele said.
I couldn't resist putting a hand on his handsome cheek. "You're so sweet. Thank you for understanding."
His eyebrows reared up in surprise. "No one has ever called me that before."
"Sweet or understanding?" I asked.
Steele gave a rueful grin. "Neither."
"Well, you're both and I plan to make all of this up to you," I said.
He groaned and gathered me into his arms for one last mind-melting kiss. My body clung to him like a magnet and the idea of pushing away seemed impossible. All I wanted to do was get closer to Steele. Much closer.
"I know a great little jazz club open late," Steele whispered against my lips.
"Or a midnight matinee. Since we're already acting like teenagers, maybe we can ignore the movie and make out in the balcony," I joked.
The heat in Steele's eyes went straight to my cheeks and I blushed furiously.
"So, you'll call me?" he asked, his voice gravelly.
I nodded. "Tomorrow."