Prognosis: Romance (Doctors in Training 4)

She took another sip of her iced drink. “It finally occurred to me after dating him for several months that he was deliberately grooming me to be the companion he considered fitting for his status. I realized then that I was going to have to break up with him or break his pompous nose. I decided on the former—though the latter would have been much more satisfying,” she added reflectively. “We broke up a little over a year ago, and since then I’ve focused on establishing my own identity.”

“Was your former boyfriend—the one before Dr. Philip Smith—also a doctor? Or a dentist?”

“No. Greg was my high-school boyfriend. Captain of the football team, class vice president, leader of the popular crowd—you know the type. We were engaged for a couple of years after graduation while he went to a small, state college on a football scholarship after it turned out he wasn’t quite good enough to play for any of the big schools. I took a few classes but never decided on a major, and then I tried a couple of unsuccessful jobs in search of an identity other than Greg’s girlfriend and personal cheerleader. He dumped me for someone else when I stopped letting my life revolve entirely around him.”

She lifted her glass to her lips again, more to shut herself up than because she particularly wanted another sip. She always tended to babble, she admitted freely—a Gambill family flaw—but something about James made her blab even more than usual. Maybe it was because he revealed so little of himself either in words or expressions, and she seemed to need to fill the silences between them with her own revelations.

Besides, she told herself with an attempt at rationalization, he had asked why she was so leery of take-charge men. She was merely answering him honestly.

“So, ignoring your earlier relationship, on the basis of one bad experience with a pompous dentist, you’ve sworn off all doctors as potential friends?”

Now she was the one to shift in her seat. He made it sound so petty when he phrased it that way. “That’s not exactly what I said.”

“What you said, exactly, is ‘doctors are accustomed to giving orders and having them followed without question. Making decisions on behalf of other people. Telling people what’s good for them.’ Apparently, you’re basing all that conjecture on your brief relationship with Dr. Smith.”

She blinked a couple of times before saying, “Eidetic memory?”

“Just good recall. But you still haven’t responded to what I asked.”

The man was as tenacious as a pit bull. Totally focused on solving the puzzle of why she’d concluded she wouldn’t date doctors. “You really are a scientist, aren’t you?”

He frowned. “I’m just trying to understand.”

“I’m not really accustomed to discussing my dating history with virtual strangers.”

As he eyed her over the rim of his cup she felt her cheeks warm.

“You started this conversation. You approached me in the parking lot of the restaurant and then invited me to join you here for coffee so we could discuss your reasons for turning down my dinner invitation,” he said.

“Oh. I guess you’re right. Sorry.”

His gaze lingered on her wry smile in a way that had her reaching hastily for her iced drink. She suddenly felt a little too warm.

But his voice was bland when he said, “You don’t have to apologize. Though I am curious as to why you felt the need to explain your reasoning for turning down my invitation. All you had to say was no. I realize I asked twice, but I got the message the second time. I wouldn’t have asked again.”

“I know. It’s just—well, I hurt your feelings in the toy store, when I said you made me nervous. I really hate hurting people. I just wanted you to know it wasn’t anything about you personally, just my own hang-ups.”

“You thought you hurt my feelings.”

“I know I did.”

“Interesting.”

She tilted her head. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Picking up his cup again, he murmured, “You’re very intuitive. Most people don’t—”

He drowned the rest of the sentence in another sip of espresso.

She had a feeling she knew what he’d started to say. Most people probably had a hard time reading his feelings, hurt or otherwise. He did seem to keep them well hidden. Was that a deliberate choice or just the way he was? Either way, it was another difference between them. Everyone always claimed her face revealed her every thought. Well, those thoughts she hadn’t already expressed verbally, she added with a mental wince.

“So you think I’m pompous,” he said, lowering his cup. “But you don’t want to hurt my feelings about it because it’s simply your personal hang-up that you don’t date pompous men.”

Startled, she shook her head. “I didn’t say you were pompous. I’ve never seen you behave that way at all.”

“Just a bossy, take-charge doctor-to-be, is that it?”

She struggled against a smile in response to his politely interested tone. “Well, you did pay for my coffee, even though I said you shouldn’t. It starts with those little things.”