The Surgeon's Cinderella. Susan CarlisleЧитать онлайн книгу.
the past couple of years she’d seen Tanner’s name in the news a few times. He was an up-and-coming surgeon in the heart transplant field. So why did someone as good-looking and eligible as Tanner need her help in finding a mate?
Whitney chuckled drily. For the same reasons her other clients did. They didn’t have the time or energy to weed out the unsuitable. She handled the nitty-gritty work of finding people with similar backgrounds so they only connected with the people most appropriate for them. It was a one-and-done process.
She rolled through the gate of the airfield minutes before she was due to meet Tanner. Would he recognize her? Why should he? She’d just been one of those people who had been a filler in a couple of his classes. Plus she’d changed a great deal since then. At least on the outside. She’d lost fifty pounds. She’d long outgrown having a crush on Tanner. Heavens, she didn’t even really know him.
Pulling into a parking spot in the lot next to a red single-story, cement-block building, she turned off the engine. A gleaming white jet sat on the tarmac in front of the terminal. There were a couple of men working around it. Was Tanner going somewhere? Probably off to Hawaii for the weekend.
Normally Whitney liked to have her initial interview in a neutral and laid-back place. A local café, the park. Out of the client’s high-pressure work world so that they were more relaxed, less distracted. She found that even though people’s favorite subject was themselves, when it came to their personal life they weren’t as forthcoming. Men tended toward telling about half of what she needed to know. The more successful her client was, the more insecure or demanding or both they were about their choices for mates.
At the sound of an ambulance siren, she glanced into the rearview mirror. The noise abruptly ended as the vehicle rolled through the gate at a normal speed and continued until the ambulance stopped close to the plane. A group of people dressed in green scrubs exited the back.
What was going on?
One of the men in the party broke away from the group and started toward her. That must be Tanner. It had been years since she’d seen him. He’d changed as well. His shoulders had broadened and his face had lost its youthfulness, having matured into sharper angles. He was still an extremely handsome man. Maybe even more so now.
With a wide stride that spoke of a person who controlled his realm and was confident to do so, he approached her. She stepped out of the car, closed the door and waited.
“Whitney?”
He didn’t recognize her. Was she relieved or disappointed? She extended her hand when he was within arm’s reach.
“Whitney Thomason.”
Tanner took her hand and pulled her to him, giving her a hug.
What was he doing?
Her face was pressed into the curve of his shoulder. He smelled not of hospital antiseptic but of clean, warm male. Whitney was so surprised her hands fluttered at his waist. What was going on? She was released almost as quickly as he had grabbed her.
Tanner glanced over his shoulder. “Please just go along with me. First names only. No titles.”
She looked beyond him to see the others in his party watching them. He made their meeting sound like a covert operation. She took a small step away from him. “Okay. I’m Whitney.”
“I’m Tanner. I would prefer we keep my request between the two of us.” His dark brown eyes beseeched her.
“I understand. I assure you I am discreet.” Most professionals she worked with wanted their interactions with her to remain low-key. Either they didn’t want others to know they needed help in their personal life or were just embarrassed they couldn’t find someone on their own. Whatever it was, she respected their desires. But no one had gone to the extent that Tanner was to keep his secret.
So why was he meeting her in front of his colleagues? “Then why here?” She nodded her head toward the group at the plane.
“I didn’t know I was going to have to go after a heart and I wanted you to get started on this right away.”
“After a heart?” Her voice rose.
“I’m a heart transplant surgeon. I’m in the process of retrieving a heart.”
“Oh.” He made it sound like that was commonplace. For him it might be, but for her it was a little unnerving.
He looked over his shoulder as the jet engines roared to life. “So what do you need from me?”
And he wants to do this right now, right here?
“It usually takes an hour or so for me to get enough information from a client to form a good idea of the type of woman they are best suited to.”
Tanner glanced back to where the others were loading the plane. “I don’t have an hour. I have a patient who needs a new heart.”
“Then I suggest we postpone this meeting.” Whitney reached for her car door handle.
“I’d like to get the process started. I’m up for a promotion and the board is breathing down my neck to settle down. I’ve got to do something right away about finding a wife. But with my caseload I don’t know when I’ll be able to sit down and talk anytime soon.” His voice held a note of desperation that she was confident didn’t appear often. “What I’m looking for is someone who takes care of herself, is good in social situations, wants to be a mother and would be supportive of my career.”
Really? That’s all he wanted? He hadn’t said anything about love. This would be a tough order to fill. “Those are pretty broad requirements. I like to know my clients well enough that I don’t waste their or their potential partner’s time.”
“Hey, Tanner,” the last man getting on the plane called. “We gotta go. This heart won’t wait on us.”
Tanner looked back to her. “I’ve got a patient that’s been waiting for months for this heart. I have to see that he gets it. Look, I’ve heard you’re the best in town. Do your thing. I’m sure you can find someone for me. Here’s my contact information.” He handed her a business card. “Call when you have something. Don’t pull away. I’m going to give you a quick kiss on the cheek. I need for these guys—” he nodded toward the plane “—to think that you’re my girlfriend.”
Before Whitney could agree or disagree, his lips brushed her face and he jogged away.
The man’s nerve knew no bounds!
Minutes later Whitney watched as the plane lifted off the ground and flew into the darkening sky. Somehow tonight the Tanner she’d had such a crush on and worshipped in college from afar had become a mortal man. The thing was she really didn’t know this Tanner any better than she knew the old Tanner. If she did manage to find him a match, would he take the time to get to know the woman or just expect her to bow to his list of requirements? Whitney’s goal was to find love matches, and Tanner had said nothing about wanting that.
And while they worked together there would be no more physical contact. She was a professional.
* * *
Tanner looked down from his window seat of the plane at the woman still standing beside her small practical compact car. She looked like a matchmaker. Simply dressed. Nothing sexy or suggestive about her clothing—he’d even characterize her style as unappealing. Her hair was pulled back into a band at her nape.
He didn’t go around kissing strangers but he had kissed her. Little Ms. Matchmaker had the softest skin he’d ever felt. She was nothing like the women he was attracted to yet he found her no-nonsense, straight-to-the-point personality interesting. People generally didn’t speak to him so frankly.
Did he know her from somewhere? Maybe she’d been a member of one of his former patients’ families? But she’d said nothing about knowing him. He was good with faces. It could be her smile that drew him. It was one of the nicest he’d ever seen. Reached her eyes.