Millionaires' Destinies(137)

Beth glanced up from her examination of Tony’s vital signs to see Mack standing in the doorway. Her heart did a little hop, skip and jump, even though she’d been firmly telling herself all day that he’d never really mattered to her.

“You’ll have to come back later,” she told him stiffly.

“Aw, Dr. Beth, don’t send Mack away,” Tony protested weakly. “I’ve been waiting all day for him to get here.”

“I’ll be right outside,” Mack promised. “I’ll come in the second Doc gives me the all-clear.”

Beth heard the message intended for her, as well. She wasn’t going to get rid of him so easily, especially not after ducking his calls all day.

“Oh, come on in,” she said grudgingly. “I’m almost finished anyway.”

“Are you sure?” Mack asked, studying her intently.

“Sure, why not?” she said, hoping she sounded totally unconcerned about his presence.

The minute he stepped inside, though, her pulse rate escalated predictably. He looked so darn good. He was dressed in one of those light-gray perfectly tailored custom suits of his with a silk-blend shirt with mono-grammed cuffs and a tie in a slightly darker tone of the same dusky blue. He was the epitome of the successful businessman with the well-honed body of a trained athlete. She’d never realized before meeting Mack just how incredibly sexy that combination could be. She almost sighed with regret that he was no longer hers.

Not that he’d ever been, she reminded herself sharply. That was something she shouldn’t forget. Recent weeks, all that time they’d spent together, had been no more solid than an illusion.

She finished up her quick examination of Tony, made a few notes in his chart and turned to leave. Mack stood directly in her path.

“Did you get the flowers?” he asked.

“You sent flowers to Dr. Beth?” Tony asked, his eyes bright with excitement. “That is so awesome. How come you didn’t tell me, Dr. Beth?”

Mack grinned at him. “Maybe she thought her personal business was none of your business,” Mack teased.

“Or maybe I didn’t think it was any big deal,” she said, gazing directly into Mack’s eyes.

She saw that he immediately got the message. Guilt and regret darkened his eyes.

“We need to talk,” he said in a lowered voice.

“I don’t think there’s anything left to say,” she replied.

“Beth, don’t do this,” he said with surprising urgency. “You owe me a chance to explain.”

She regarded him quizzically. “I owe you a chance to explain?”

“Yes. You owe it to both of us. How about if I come over in an hour or so? I’ll bring dinner. We can talk privately and get this settled, before the whole ridiculous thing gets out of hand.”

Beth wanted to turn him down flat. She wanted to protect what was left of her tattered pride, but fairness dictated that she needed to hear him out, even if she couldn’t imagine that he had anything to say worth hearing.

“Forget dinner, but you can come by,” she said eventually. “I don’t expect it to change anything, though.”

“Maybe not, but I have to try.” Mack tucked a finger under her chin and met her gaze. “This is important, Beth. Really important.”

Her skin tingled at the innocent touch, proving that even as hurt and angry as she was, he still had the power to get to her. She should have told him no, should have protected her heart better. The only problem with that was that it was already way too late.





Mack had been talking nonstop since he walked through the door. Beth had heard every word he said, but she was trying so damn hard to fight the desire to give in and accept his apology. It didn’t help that he kept touching her—casual, innocent touches it was impossible to protest but that managed to inflame.

“Is any of this getting through to you?” he asked eventually. “What happened last night was totally innocent. I was not out with Cassandra. She was barely at the table more than a minute, and Ben and Richard were right there. They’ll back me up.”

“You’ve explained that,” she said, trying not to take too much comfort from it. “But it’s going to happen again, Mack. This Cassandra person is just the tip of the iceberg when it comes to your past. I’m not sure I can live with that kind of attention. I don’t want to wake up every morning and wonder what I’m going to see in some newspaper gossip column.”

He nodded slowly. “I can understand how that would get old,” he admitted. “Even if it’s not through any wrongdoing on my part.” He regarded her with obvious misery. “Maybe Destiny was right.”