His Valentine Bride. Cindy KirkЧитать онлайн книгу.
him before Betsy noticed.
What you see is what you get?
Ryan knew Cole’s mind had gone totally in the wrong direction. Betsy was his new legal assistant, not a potential lover. And perhaps, a friend. A guy couldn’t have too many friends.
He smiled and nodded. Yep, from what he’d seen so far, Betsy was the type of woman who’d make a great buddy.
Chapter Two
When Friday night rolled around, Ryan already had his evening planned. Meet some friends at Wally’s Place, toss back a few cold ones and play a game or two of darts. Then he overheard Betsy talking on the phone to Adrianna and learned there was a party at Michelle Kerns’s house that evening.
Ryan knew the young ob-gyn but not well enough to merit an invitation to her home. When he heard Adrianna was going to be there, his plans for the evening did a one-eighty. Somehow, someway, he would attend that party.
He made a few calls and within a matter of minutes, Mitzi Sanchez reluctantly agreed he could go with her. Mitzi was an orthopedic surgeon he’d dated a few times. As much as he enjoyed the feisty Latina’s company, the chemistry wasn’t there. Now they were simply good friends. Okay, that might be stretching it a bit.
Still, they were good-enough friends that he could tag along with her. Mitzi had made it clear that once they got to the party, he was on his own.
“Would you quit primping?” Mitzi said in a disgusted tone as they made their way up the walk to Michelle’s townhome. “I swear you’re worse than any girl.”
He finished adjusting the cuffs of his sweater. “I love you, too.”
She made a retching noise and rolled her eyes.
“Seriously, thanks for making me your plus-one tonight.” He glanced down at his black jeans and cowboy boots. While the sweater under his jacket dressed up his party attire, he hoped he hadn’t gone too casual. Adrianna was a hard woman to impress, and he’d already blown several opportunities.
“You’re not my plus-one,” she said. “You’re some guy I’m dragging along because I didn’t have the sense to say no.”
That’s what Ryan liked about Mitzi. She told it as she saw it. It was a shame there was no chemistry between them, because not only was she a beautiful woman, she could also sing karaoke like a pro.
“I don’t know you,” he said as they reached the stoop. “Once you get me through the front door, that is.”
“You’ll owe me, Harcourt.” She brushed back a strand of brown hair that looked as if it had been streaked with peanut butter. Although part Argentinean and part Mexican, with her light hair and blue eyes Mitzi looked more Irish than Latina.
“The first time you get slapped with a malpractice suit, I’m your man.”
“What a pleasant thought.” She reached out to press the doorbell, but he gently pushed her arm down.
“Allow me.”
“Such a gentleman,” came the sarcastic reply.
“I aim to please,” he said just as the door opened.
Before she could object, Ryan placed an arm loosely around her shoulders. He half expected Mitzi to shrug it off or punch him in the side. Instead she gave a long-suffering sigh. “Michelle, I believe you know Ryan Harcourt.”
“Of course.” The hostess clasped his hand firmly in greeting. She was tall, with honey-colored hair and big blue eyes. “Welcome. We have wine and beer and snacks. Help yourself to whatever you want.”
Ryan wondered if that meant he could help himself to Adrianna.
He felt Mitzi’s eyes on him as he placed his coat in Michelle’s outstretched hand. For an uncanny moment he had the feeling he could read her mind.
“The answer is no,” Mitzi said as the hostess stepped away, leaving them alone.
“You don’t even know the question,” he protested.
“I have my suspicions.”
“Ryan,” a familiar voice behind him gasped. “Why didn’t you mention you were coming tonight?”
He turned to see Betsy standing in the hallway near what was obviously the kitchen, holding a glass of white wine. Like the hostess and most of the other women in the room, she wore jeans and a sweater suitable for the ski slopes.
She’d done something different with her hair. He narrowed his gaze. “You look nice.”
“You like it?” Pleasure ran through her words. She raised a hand to her hair that had been long and sleek during the day and now stopped at her shoulders and had a bunch of layers. “I got it cut after work.”
The new style emphasized her large eyes and made her cheekbones more pronounced. He realized suddenly that his friend’s sister—and his new employee—was a very attractive woman. “I do like it.”
Even if he hadn’t, the blinding smile she shot him would have been worth any lie. But it was the truth and he was glad he’d said it. Even after only three days in the office, he’d discovered Betsy responded best to positive reinforcement.
“Are you and Mitzi dating?” she asked, twisting the toe of her shoe into the hardwood.
Ryan glanced across the room where his “date” stood chatting with Benedict Campbell, one of the physicians in her practice. Even though Mitzi claimed to hate the man, she’d protested so much that Ryan suspected there were some red-hot sparks beneath that animosity.
“Nah,” he said. “She just didn’t want to come to the party alone, so I agreed to come with her.”
He glanced around the room. Smooth jazz was playing low in the background and the wine was being served in crystal glasses. Although everyone was dressed casually—practically a given in Jackson Hole—Ryan instantly knew that this wasn’t his kind of party. Although he’d gone back East for law school and had attended many elegant events, he was a country boy at heart. Give him a can of beer, a bowl of chips and football on the flat screen and he was happy.
“Who did you come with?” he asked Betsy politely. Not because he was particularly interested in who she was dating, but rather to pass the time while he searched the room for the woman he’d come to see.
“Oh, look, there’s Adrianna,” Betsy said.
Like a hunting dog that had just gotten a whiff of a delectable scent, Ryan stiffened. He forced a casual smile to his lips. “I haven’t seen Adrianna in months. I bet I wouldn’t even recognize her.”
Even as he said the words, Ryan had to stifle a smile. As if he’d ever forget even the minutest detail about anything to do with Adrianna.
“Oh, I’m sure you would,” Betsy said with great earnestness. “She looks the same. The stylist tried to get her to do something different, but you know Adrianna. She dug in those heels and refused to let him touch her hair.”
“Her hair is beautiful,” Ryan said without thinking. “It would have been a shame to cut it.”
“Ryan agrees with you,” Betsy said and he shifted his gaze to see Adrianna standing there.
“Really.” Adrianna’s cool green eyes settled on him. “About what?”
“About cutting your hair,” Betsy said, seemingly oblivious to the sudden tension in the air. “He said why fool with perfection?”
Ryan didn’t remember saying those exact words, but it was a true sentiment nonetheless.
Adrianna didn’t appear impressed. In fact she was looking at him as if he was the lowest form of worm. Surely she wasn’t holding that one little prank all those years