Read Online The Surgeon's New-Year Wedding Wish by Laura Iding - Free Book Online
Authors: Laura Iding
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larger, more prestigious one.”
“I couldn’t care less about the prestige offered by any top medical center.” Quinn lifted his glass of wine and took a tentative sip, then nodded to the waiter to pour more. “I came here for Danny.”
His simple statement rang with truth, causing a pang of guilt for her initial assessment of his priorities. Clearly, Quinn loved his son.
“Very admirable,” she murmured, thinking of how difficult it must be as a single man to raise a son on his own. Especially a mute son. She might never have wanted her own children, but she still enjoyed them. Their innocence. Their unconditional love.
“Not admirable. Practical. I grew up in New York and went to college in Boston. But I like it here. Cedar Bluff is a nice change.” His tone was brisk, matter-of-fact, and didn’t encourage further discussion. “Leila, are you ready to order?”
“Of course. I’ll have the apricot grilled salmon,” she told the waiter.
“And I’ll have the house specialty prime rib, prepared medium-rare,” Quinn said, closing his menu with a snap.
The waiter disappeared, leaving them alone again.
She sneaked a glance at his handsome, chiseled features. His white shirt and black trousers with the charcoal-gray coat looked elegant on him. What was she doing here with a man like Quinn? He dressed as if he posed as a magazine cover model. He was so different from George, and not just because her husband had been a few years older and had preferred the typicalprofessor tweed. They were different in almost every single way.
She stared through the window at the red and green lights reflected on the water. They didn’t even have their meal yet. What on earth would they talk about during the next hour? She couldn’t begin to imagine.
She was tempted to finish off her wine in one large gulp. “I guess I’m out of practice,” she said with a sigh.
“No, it’s not that.” Quinn reached over to take her hand in his large brown one. His thumb stroked the back of her hand, sending shivers up her arm. “You’re thinking too much.”
Thinking at all was nearly impossible with him touching her. But she refused to let him distract her. “It’s no use, Quinn. This was a very nice gesture, but I think it’s rather obvious we don’t have anything in common.”
“You don’t think so?” He tightened his grip on her hand, urging her to meet his gaze. “ Quierda, you’re wrong. We have this in common.” He lifted his other hand, displaying the fine tremor. “See what you do to me with a mere look?”
She swallowed hard, trying to tug her hand from his. “There has to be more than this,” she whispered.
“Do you feel anything remotely like this with anyone else?” he demanded, his impatience taking the form of arrogance. “Well? Do you?”
Slowly she shook her head.
“It’s the same for me,” he said, in a low urgent voice. “I haven’t felt anything like this for a woman in a long time.”
“Just because you’re lonely—” she began.
“No.” He cut her off abruptly. “This isn’t lonelinessand you know it. There is something palpable between us. I don’t understand. Why do you insist on pretending this chemistry, this complete awareness we share doesn’t exist?”
“Because I don’t want it to exist.” Irritated, she pulled her hand away, nearly spilling what was left of her wine. She knew it was a mistake to come here with him. He was a man who was far too accustomed to getting his way. “Lust is overrated,” she said, wishing at the moment she really believed it.
She knew in her head that lust was an empty feeling, something that would burn away quickly, leaving nothing but regrets behind, but at the moment her traitorous body was trying to convince her otherwise.
“No, Leila, I disagree. Love is the complication neither of us needs. I want you, Leila. Very much. We’re two uninvolved, consenting adults and I promise to be discreet.” He leaned closer, as if he
“I couldn’t care less about the prestige offered by any top medical center.” Quinn lifted his glass of wine and took a tentative sip, then nodded to the waiter to pour more. “I came here for Danny.”
His simple statement rang with truth, causing a pang of guilt for her initial assessment of his priorities. Clearly, Quinn loved his son.
“Very admirable,” she murmured, thinking of how difficult it must be as a single man to raise a son on his own. Especially a mute son. She might never have wanted her own children, but she still enjoyed them. Their innocence. Their unconditional love.
“Not admirable. Practical. I grew up in New York and went to college in Boston. But I like it here. Cedar Bluff is a nice change.” His tone was brisk, matter-of-fact, and didn’t encourage further discussion. “Leila, are you ready to order?”
“Of course. I’ll have the apricot grilled salmon,” she told the waiter.
“And I’ll have the house specialty prime rib, prepared medium-rare,” Quinn said, closing his menu with a snap.
The waiter disappeared, leaving them alone again.
She sneaked a glance at his handsome, chiseled features. His white shirt and black trousers with the charcoal-gray coat looked elegant on him. What was she doing here with a man like Quinn? He dressed as if he posed as a magazine cover model. He was so different from George, and not just because her husband had been a few years older and had preferred the typicalprofessor tweed. They were different in almost every single way.
She stared through the window at the red and green lights reflected on the water. They didn’t even have their meal yet. What on earth would they talk about during the next hour? She couldn’t begin to imagine.
She was tempted to finish off her wine in one large gulp. “I guess I’m out of practice,” she said with a sigh.
“No, it’s not that.” Quinn reached over to take her hand in his large brown one. His thumb stroked the back of her hand, sending shivers up her arm. “You’re thinking too much.”
Thinking at all was nearly impossible with him touching her. But she refused to let him distract her. “It’s no use, Quinn. This was a very nice gesture, but I think it’s rather obvious we don’t have anything in common.”
“You don’t think so?” He tightened his grip on her hand, urging her to meet his gaze. “ Quierda, you’re wrong. We have this in common.” He lifted his other hand, displaying the fine tremor. “See what you do to me with a mere look?”
She swallowed hard, trying to tug her hand from his. “There has to be more than this,” she whispered.
“Do you feel anything remotely like this with anyone else?” he demanded, his impatience taking the form of arrogance. “Well? Do you?”
Slowly she shook her head.
“It’s the same for me,” he said, in a low urgent voice. “I haven’t felt anything like this for a woman in a long time.”
“Just because you’re lonely—” she began.
“No.” He cut her off abruptly. “This isn’t lonelinessand you know it. There is something palpable between us. I don’t understand. Why do you insist on pretending this chemistry, this complete awareness we share doesn’t exist?”
“Because I don’t want it to exist.” Irritated, she pulled her hand away, nearly spilling what was left of her wine. She knew it was a mistake to come here with him. He was a man who was far too accustomed to getting his way. “Lust is overrated,” she said, wishing at the moment she really believed it.
She knew in her head that lust was an empty feeling, something that would burn away quickly, leaving nothing but regrets behind, but at the moment her traitorous body was trying to convince her otherwise.
“No, Leila, I disagree. Love is the complication neither of us needs. I want you, Leila. Very much. We’re two uninvolved, consenting adults and I promise to be discreet.” He leaned closer, as if he
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