The Wilders: Falling for the M.D.. Teresa Southwick

a deep breath, Bethany walked out of her bedroom and to the front door on legs she willed to be steady.

      Opening the door, she summoned her brightest, most carefree smile—or some reasonable facsimile thereof.

      And then she saw him. Peter was wearing a formal tux. God, but he looked handsome.

      “Hi,” she heard herself murmur through lips that felt frozen in place.

      The next moment, she saw Peter’s dark eyes slowly travel down the length of her before returning to her face. Unable to tell what he was thinking, she held her breath, waiting for the verdict.

      He already knew, even if she professed not to, that Bethany was beautiful. But in this dress, she transcended anything that had come before. The word vision didn’t even begin to cover it, but it was the only word his numbed brain would come up with.

      Realizing that he was staring, Peter cleared his throat. He was stalling, searching for his voice. There was a very real danger of it emerging in a squeak. She did take his breath away.

      When he smiled, she could feel warmth spreading all through her.

      “I should have brought my portable defibulator,” he murmured. When she raised a quizzical eyebrow, he explained, “I think my heart just stopped.”

      Was he teasing her? Telling her it was inappropriate? Rather than become defensive, she bowed to his experience. This was her first fund-raiser at Walnut River General and she didn’t want to look out of place.

      Bethany looked down at her dress. “You think it’s too much?”

      He laughed at the innocent question. “On the contrary, I don’t think it’s enough.” He saw the uneasiness enter her eyes and quickly added, “I mean, it’s fine with me, but I’m not sure I’m up on my dueling techniques.”

      “Dueling techniques?” she repeated, confused.

      He nodded. “The way I see it, I might be called upon several times this evening to defend your honor.”

      He was teasing, but in a nice way. Pleasure whispered through her.

      Bethany caught her lower lip between her teeth in an unselfconscious, endearing way that just further evaporated his breath. At this rate, he was going to need an oxygen tank before they reached the hotel ballroom.

      “I could change,” she offered.

      He didn’t see that as an option. She was almost too beautiful to bear. “And break the hearts of every single male over the age of eight within ten miles? I think not.”

      So what was he telling her? That he liked the way she looked? Or was he trying to say something else? Bemused, she shook her head. “You certainly know how to confuse a girl with a compliment.”

      He couldn’t help but laugh at the word she’d used. He would have thought that the term “girl” would have offended her. She was more reasonable than he’d given her credit for. He liked that.

      “Trust me, Bethany,” he assured her. “You might still feel like a girl inside, but outside, you are all woman.”

      She felt her cheeks warming. This was getting to be a habit around him. She tried to divert his attention from the deepening hue of her skin. “When did you learn to be so charming?”

      “About two minutes ago, when you opened the door.”

      It wasn’t the answer she was expecting. He definitely wasn’t the stiff, humorless man she’d initially taken him for. Bethany picked up her coat and her purse from the sofa where she’d placed them earlier. “You really are full of surprises, aren’t you?”

      Peter took the long black coat out of her hands and helped her into it. “The same can be said of you. Those two-piece business suits you wear at the hospital don’t begin to adequately convey what’s beneath.”

      She tried her best not to glow at the compliment, but it wasn’t easy. “Nice to see you out of a lab coat, too.” Turning around, she looked at him again. His overcoat was open, giving her a full view of the tuxedo he wore. She noticed something else, as well. “You look younger.”

      “That could be because tonight, I don’t have the weight of the world on my shoulders.” With his hand at the small of her back, he escorted her out the door. Bethany paused to lock her door. Turning, she took hold of his arm before she realized what she was doing. It just seemed like the natural thing to do. He smiled, completing his thought. “Just a beautiful woman on my arm.”

      The cold wind carried the scent of another impending snowfall, whipping around, chilling any exposed area it could find.

      “About that vision test …” she began playfully as she took small, careful steps to the curb where he had parked his vehicle.

      “You should schedule to have one immediately,” he agreed. “You’re obviously not seeing how beautiful you really are.”

      Blushing, she slid into the passenger seat and waited for him to round the hood and get in on his side. When he did, she said, “Uncle.”

      Seat belt in his hand, he stopped mid-motion and looked at her quizzically. “Excuse me?”

      “Isn’t that what you cry when you know you’re outmatched?” Bethany asked. She vaguely remembered hearing that once. “Uncle?”

      Peter turned the key in the ignition. After a second, the car started up. He was going to have to remember to check his antifreeze level, he told himself. “Yes, but why—”

      She sat back in her seat as they pulled out of the driveway. “I didn’t think that such a person existed, but you can clearly outtalk me.”

      He spared Bethany a glance and smiled at her warmly. “Nice to know.”

      Just as he’d expected, everyone in the ballroom turned their way when they walked in. Bethany looked far too stunning tonight for people to nonchalantly absorb her into the group without first appreciating every sensual inch of her.

      The first to approach them, with the other members of the board not to far behind, was the chairman. The expression on Wallace’s moonlike face was that of extreme pride, as if he’d had a hand in inventing Bethany.

      Wallace hadn’t even been the one to hire her. That had been his father’s doing, in order to get the hospital to run more smoothly, Peter thought. At least he could thank his father for something.

      An odd sensation undulated through him. It took Peter several moments before he recognized it for what it was: possessiveness.

      What was that all about? he demanded silently.

      This was just a casual date. No commitments involved. There was nothing for him to feel possessive about.

      Yet there it was, this feeling nibbling away at him, leaving tiny grooves in its wake.

      As if to prove to himself that this was absurd, that he felt no such attachment, Peter began to step back. To his surprise, Bethany tightened her hold on his arm, forcing him to remain where he was.

      This was a new turn of events, he thought. A couple of weeks ago, she would have been relieved to have him go.

      “Would you like something to eat?” He leaned forward, whispering the question in her ear.

      It was only through the greatest control that Bethany managed to stifle the shiver that shimmied up and down her bare spine in response to the feel of his breath along the side of her neck.

      “That would be very nice,” she murmured. Any second now, her heart was going to pound right out of her chest.

      He continued to linger, to draw in the subtle scent of perfume in her hair and along her skin. “Anything in particular you’d like?

      She turned to face him. “Surprise me.”

      Damn but he’d like to. He’d probably surprise all of them