Her Mr. Right? Read online

  “You said you believe in keeping promises and commitments. How did you look at getting a divorce?” As soon as she asked the question, her cheeks turned red and she shook her head. “Never mind. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked that.”

  If anyone else had asked, he probably would have gotten angry. But Isobel…He knew she wasn’t making a judgment, she just wanted to know.

  He slid his hands into his jeans pockets, gazed down the treelined street then answered her. “My marriage to Sonya never should have happened. I don’t know how much in love we were. We met after I quit the Boston P.D. We liked each other. I think we saw marriage as a convenient way to get on with our lives.”

  He brought his gaze back to Isobel now. “But she didn’t anticipate how much I’d be away. I didn’t know how much I didn’t want to share myself with anyone. Your father was right last night. Although neither of us understood what we were doing, we set boundaries we didn’t want to cross. Since then, I’ve realized a couple can’t have boundaries like that. They have to be willing to go deep into each other’s territory, even if it’s uncomfortable, and even if it hurts. Sonya and I weren’t willing to do that, so we were never as close as we should have been. Eventually closeness became something we avoided.”

  The furrow between his brows deepened when he added, “In spite of that, I was committed to her and to our marriage. But she was lonely, and she found someone who would make her feel less lonely. So to answer your question, I rationalized. I told myself she broke our vows first by being unfaithful. But in reality, maybe I broke our vows first by isolating myself from her.”

  “You’ve thought a lot about this,” Isobel remarked quietly.

  “I don’t like to fail at anything. That’s not the way I’m made. I grew up believing success was the bar every man should use to determine whether he’s had a good life.”

  “We learn more when we fail than when we succeed,” she suggested.

  “You’re a deep thinker, aren’t you?” he asked.

  She smiled wryly. “I’m not sure that’s a compliment.”

  “Sure it is. You don’t just consider the surface, but what’s below the surface.”

  The screen door slammed. Chad jogged to where they were standing by his bike.

  “We were just admiring it,” Neil told him.

  “I remembered I didn’t put it away. I have to be careful and chain it up wherever I take it.”

  “Unlike my bike,” Isobel teased him. “Nobody would want it.”

  “Do you ride much?” Neil asked.

  Before she could answer, Chad did. “She used to ride at least ten miles every day. But she doesn’t have time since she moved in with Grandpa. Do you ride?” Chad asked Neil.

  “I used to. Now I spend more time on the life cycle at the gym than on a real bike.”

  “If you want to use mine to go riding with Aunt Iz, you can.”

  “I’ll think about that,” Neil assured him.

  As Chad wheeled his bike around to the side door of the garage, he called over his shoulder, “Mom said she baked a chocolate cake today. It’s on the table whenever you’re ready.” Once Chad had taken the bike inside the garage, Neil realized the sun was setting and in a few minutes, the shadows would turn to darkness.

  “We could go riding sometime,” he said casually. It wasn’t so much an invitation as a gambit to see what Isobel would say.

  She shook her head. “That’s probably not a good idea.”

  “Because we’re on opposite sides?”

  “Because your job is still the main priority in your life and when this investigation is over, you’ll be headed for the next one.”

  She was right. If it weren’t for his job—

  Would he still be married?

  Would he have kids?

  Would he be living in the suburbs with a picket fence and a minivan?

  “You’re a planner, aren’t you, Isobel? When you take a first step, you want to know what the next one will be.”

  “Is there anything wrong with that?” She sounded a bit defensive.

  “I just wonder if you’re not missing out on joy and excitement along the way.”

  “I’m not a risk taker.”

  “I’m sorry you’re not.” He’d like to get to know her better. He’d like to take more than a bike ride with her, but he could see she wasn’t even going to give them the chance to enjoy a few hours together. He represented danger to her—danger because the risk of getting involved with him would only hurt her. He couldn’t blame her for wanting to keep her heart safe, but he was filled with regret that they wouldn’t be taking a step past the first kiss.

  “I guess we’ll have to call our game a draw,” he decided.

  “You were ahead,” she reminded him.

  “Being ahead doesn’t mean I won.”

  “Neil, I wish—”

  Before she could move away, he hung his arm around her shoulders, ignoring the stirring in his body that told him he wanted a hell of a lot more than the casual contact. “Don’t wish. You have to be true to what’s right for you. In the meantime, we’ll eat chocolate cake and have a damn good time doing it.”

  He thought her eyes looked unnaturally moist but with darkness falling, it was hard to tell. As he guided her inside, he felt as if he’d lost something important to him.

  Because of his past?

  Because of his job?

  Or because he still wasn’t ready to open his heart?

  Chapter Five

  Isobel was out of breath as she braked to a stop on her bike in front of the Walnut River Inn. When she’d started out, she’d really had no intention of coming here.

  Neil might not even be here.

  She could just tell him she’d been out for an evening ride and…what? She just happened to pass the Inn?

  She was almost ready to turn around and head down the street when she heard, “Isobel.”

  That was Neil’s voice. He was standing on the porch wearing black jeans and a red polo shirt that seemed to emphasize his broad shoulders. His sandy-brown hair blew in the breeze. She couldn’t see the color of his eyes from here but she knew their golden depths were trained on her.

  He was coming down the steps now and she couldn’t pretend she didn’t hear him call her. Wheeling her bike up the curved path, she parked it beside the porch.

  “Hey,” he said with a smile. “Did you just happen to be passing by, or did you come for a reason?”

  Leave it to Neil to be blunt. When he wanted to know something, he just asked.

  “I don’t think that was a difficult question,” he remarked, grinning now.

  She felt foolish. Her hair was damp from her exertion but she had chosen a crisp yellow cotton blouse and her best pair of jeans to ride in. “Both, I guess. I didn’t particularly have this destination in mind when I started out.”

  “If you want to talk, we can go up to my room. Or if you’d rather, we could go for a walk. But then, of course, some of the fine citizens of Walnut River might see you with me.”

  Pulling her helmet from her head, she hung it on her handlebars. Should she go to his room? This conversation would be short, and at least they’d be able to discuss things in private. “Do you have any water in your room?”

  “In fact, I have a small refrigerator stocked with juice, soda and water.”

  She wasn’t afraid of Neil. He was the kind of man a woman could trust. No, she hadn’t been around him that much, but she did have sensitive radar in her line of work. “Juice would be terrific.”

  Opening the door, he led the way through the foyer and to the staircase. She admired the hardwood banister, the fine-quality blue-and-white wallpaper.

  Neil had let her go first and at the head of the stairs, he directed her, “Second room on the left.”

  Neil was staying in the Lighthouse Room. It overlooked the backyard with its profusion of bushes and trees, which were all green with spring life. But she hadn’t come here to admire the inn or
the nautical décor in the room. She could see Neil had made himself at home. His laptop was open on the small blue desk and there was a stack of papers beside it. He was wearing deck shoes but sneakers were tumbled haphazardly under a straight-back chair next to the double bed. On the nightstand, a psychological thriller lay open next to the phone.

  She’d come here tonight for a reason and one reason only. “I think we should talk about what happened in the stairwell.”

  Neil closed the door and the little click made her realize how alone they were, and more aware of how attracted she was to him—his height, the sandy hair on his forearms, his strong chin. He motioned to the red upholstered chair by the window, but she shook her head.

  “So I guess this is going to be a short conversation,” he remarked glibly.

  “How can you joke—”

  “I’m not joking, Isobel. Apparently you came to get something out of the way. You just want to do it and go on home again. No muss, no fuss.”

  He sounded almost angry and she had no idea why. “I don’t want to take up any more of your time than I have to. And for your information I’m working on a fund-raising auction for the senior center. We have two more weeks to get donations and there’s still a lot to do.”

  “Then why do we need to talk about the kiss at all?”

  “Because…because it affects our interaction together—professionally,” she added quickly.

  “Oh, you mean whenever you see me at the hospital, you’re going to think about the kiss?”

  “Why are you making this so difficult?” She really was puzzled.

  “Tell me something. Are you and Peter Wilder involved?”

  “No.” Isobel was so shocked she couldn’t think of anything else to say.

  “When I left the two of you, you looked pretty chummy.”

  “Peter is engaged to Bethany. They’re getting married next month.”

  Neil’s expression didn’t change.

  Now she was getting mad, too. “Do you honestly think I’d even be tempted to get involved with someone who is already promised to someone else?”

  When he didn’t answer, she had had enough. “If you do think that,” she headed for the door, “I shouldn’t be here at all.”

  He caught her arm. “Isobel, wait. No, I don’t think that. But you seemed very friendly with Wilder.”

  “Are you digging now? For professional reasons, or personal ones?”

  He frowned and admitted, “Personal ones.”

  She could see that Neil was serious, that maybe after their kiss he’d even been a little bit jealous. That idea made her heart flutter faster. “Peter and I…” She stopped and shook her head. “We’re colleagues.”

  “And you can’t say more than that because he’s perhaps consulting you about something?”

  She kept silent.

  Releasing her arm, he placed a hand on both her shoulders and nudged her a little closer. “So…” he drawled. “What did you want to talk about?”

  After a shaky breath, she laid it out. “I can’t get involved with you. There’s no point. Not when you’ll be leaving after a few weeks.”

  “Isobel,” he said in a soft, gentle voice that made her name sound romantic. “Have you ever taken a roller-coaster ride?”

  Her eyes widened because she absolutely didn’t know where he was going with this question. “Actually no, I never have.”

  His brows arched and he rubbed his thumb back and forth over her collar bone, distracting her immensely. “You don’t know what you’re missing. As an amusement-park ride, it’s meant for fun and excitement and thrills. You start out slowly and you think, Oh, this isn’t so scary, but then you start mounting the first hill. The excitement builds. You’re still going very slowly but although the earth is far below, you don’t seem to be in any danger. But then you come to the top of the hill. It seems like you’re suspended there for a moment, just a moment, and then, so fast that you don’t know what hit you, you’re over the top, down the dip, on a straight stretch into another dip, up another hill, down with a whoosh. There’s absolutely nothing like it, except maybe a kiss like we shared. Except maybe thinking about another kiss.”

  “Neil,” she protested softly.

  He nudged her a little closer and at the same time, he moved in, too. “Tell me you don’t want to experience another dip and whoosh.”

  “Fun and excitement and thrills have never been driving forces in my life.” She practically squeaked because she was so deprived of air.

  “Maybe it’s time to change that.”

  Getting hold of herself, she managed to ask, “How many affairs have you had since your divorce?”

  Now it was his turn to look startled. “I thought I asked tough questions,” he commented wryly.

  She waited.

  “I’m not a thrill-seeker either, Isobel. I’ve only dated two other women since my divorce.”

  If he was telling her the truth, that information truly astonished her. “Two women in two years?”

  “I’ve gone out with a few others, but nothing developed from it. I don’t take every woman I date to bed. I’m careful, I’m selective, and to be honest, I work too much to have a social life.”

  “So you see me as a diversion from your job?”

  “No, Isobel. I see you as someone special. The moment you walked into my office, I felt it. Didn’t you?”

  If she admitted that—

  “I thought it was a fluke,” he went on. “I thought I’d been cooped up for too long, asked too many questions, interviewed too many personnel. So when an attractive woman walked in, sure, she got my attention, but then minute by minute, that current between us never subsided. By the time you left, I was having a hell of a time keeping my mind on what I was supposed to be asking you.”

  “You could have fooled me.”

  “Yeah, well, usually I’m great at compartmentalizing. I can separate the work from my personal life. That’s why I’ve never dated anyone involved in a case.”

  “Never?”

  “Never.”

  “So…are you considering dating me?”

  He laughed. “Dating? Let’s put it this way. I’d like to spend more time with you.”

  “And what about the investigation?”

  “I’ve been doing this a long time, Isobel. You’re not involved in anything going on at the hospital. If something is going on. In fact, I think you could be a help to me.”

  “What kind of help?”

  “I’d like you to go through some of the files and computer data with me and answer questions I might have. No one else is willing to do that, either because they don’t want to get the hospital in trouble, or because they do. I can’t trust either side because of the takeover issue. But I think you would be honest with me. You’re an insider. You know the goings-on. I think you could be an asset. No one has to know you’re helping me if we do it in our off-hours.”

  “You really trust me that much?”

  “I do.”

  Could he be playing her? Could he be using her? Could he be telling her he trusted her to get her to trust him?

  “So many suspicions,” he said with a rueful shake of his head. “Maybe this will help prove I’m telling the truth.”

  She’d thought about Neil’s kiss since it had happened. She hadn’t been able to think about much else. But now she had the opportunity to kiss him again. Did she want to take that roller-coaster ride? Did she want to change her life and put a few thrills in it?

  Staring into Neil’s forthright brown eyes, she simply couldn’t resist the romantic notion that he was attracted to her, or the excitement of being desired.

  She lifted her lips and he didn’t hesitate. His kiss took her back to the stairwell and then sent her head spinning. His tongue was so erotically sensual, all she could do was hold on, breathe in his scent, feel his strength and ask for more. Not in words, but by stroking his tongue, by pressing her breasts against his chest, by letting her leg settle between
his.

  He groaned, pressed her even closer, then broke the kiss and lifted his head. “Damn it, Isobel. If you don’t want to end up in that bed, we’ve got to stop now.”

  She almost smiled—almost—though her heart was still racing, her body still tingling. Neil was looking at her as if she were “special.” That was almost hard to take, hard to accept, hard to feel because she’d never felt that kind of special with a man before. Finally the haze of sensual hunger diminished as each second ticked by.

  She backed away from him another step. “I’d better go.”

  “You didn’t have your juice.”

  “I’d better go,” she said again.

  His face was stoic now as he nodded and let her precede him out the door. They didn’t speak as he walked her down the steps, as they made their way through the foyer and out over the front threshold.

  He looked as if he might want to kiss her again. She knew if she let him do that, they’d end up back in his room, on his bed, in his bed.

  She descended the porch steps.

  “Isobel.”

  She turned to look at him.

  “Will you help me?”

  There was only one rule of thumb she used to guide her actions. Not what other people thought, not what her friends might say, not even what her coworkers might do. It was something her mother and dad had taught her well. She always tried to do what was right. And helping Neil get to the bottom of the hospital’s problems seemed right.

  “Yes,” she said softly.

  Without looking at him again, without witnessing a desire in his eyes he couldn’t quite bank, without feeling the yearning for yet another kiss, she flipped up her kickstand, wheeled her bike to the sidewalk, hopped on and rode away.

  The following afternoon, Isobel stopped by Peter’s office, curious as to why he wanted to see her.

  “I suppose you didn’t eat lunch,” he began.

  “I blocked off this time for you today. I’ll grab something later.”

  “I know the hours you put in. Everyone here appreciates that.”