Helene’s mouth opened and closed without a sound coming out as if she were in shock.
Andrew released the doctor’s shoulder, hoping he didn’t wet the seat. “Well, now you know.”
“I most certainly do,” the doctor said. He edged away from Andrew. He looked like he was about to say something, then changed his mind, and strode off. The haste in his steps removed all dignity from his retreat.
With an amused grin, Andrew plopped in the chair on the other side of Helene. “I told you he was a douche. You’re welcome.”
“Which part am I supposed to be thanking you for? The part where you lied about being my boyfriend? Or when you threatened my date?” Helene didn’t get angry often, but she’d had all day to fume over the kiss the man before her had given her earlier that day. That kiss had not only dominated her thoughts all afternoon, but it had killed any excitement she’d had about going out with Gil.
He crossed his arms across his chest. “You were cringing every time he touched you.”
“That’s not true,” she protested, hating that it was. “Okay, so it wasn’t going well, but that doesn’t mean I wanted your help or that big, stupid, smug smile you’re beaming at me. You should be apologizing. You embarrassed me.”
His smile dimmed. “It was for your own good. A date like that wasn’t going to get better. They never do. Guys are assholes.”
Helene waved her hand at him. “You’d know that better than I would—being both yourself.”
The corner of his mouth twitched as if he were about to smile again. “My intention was not to embarrass you. That guy was a creep.”
Helene took a deep calming breath, a long gulp of water, then another deep breath. She’d never had a man jump to her protection because it had never been an issue. “I appreciate that you wanted to help me, but your delivery sucked. I can only imagine what Gil is going to tell everyone back at the clinic. My uncle thought my presence at the hospital would help, but it’s more like I’m single-handedly fueling the gossip mill.”
“Your uncle?”
“Are you going to pretend you don’t know who I am?”
“I’m not really the pretend-anything type.”
That much she was beginning to believe. “I’m Dr. Clarence Stiles’s niece.”
She could have sworn he muttered, “That figures,” but she wasn’t certain.
“What did you say?”
“How long have you worked for him?”
“Why does that matter?” If he was after her uncle, she wasn’t going to give him any information.
“I’m not sure it does.”
Helene threw her hands up in the air with exasperation. “I know why you’re talking to me.”
“You do?”
“And it won’t get you anywhere.”
“No?” The smile returned to his face.
“No. Go back and tell whoever you’re working for that trying to dig up dirt on my uncle was a waste of time. He’s a good man who has not only run a successful clinic for over thirty years, but he has also done a lot for this community. Ask around, you won’t find a single person who doesn’t love him.”
“Really? Care to test that?”
There was a challenge in his eyes that was infuriating and sexy at the same time. “Sure.”
Andrew waved a waitress over. Of course, it had to the be the one that only a few minutes earlier she’d seen write her phone number on a napkin for him. The woman’s expression turned guarded when Andrew asked her if she knew Clarence Stiles.
“Everyone knows him. He owns the largest private clinic on the island.”
“How would you describe him?” Andrew pressed.
The woman shifted from one foot to another before answering. “He has done many good things for the people of Aruba.”
“But?”
She looked around as if making sure she was not overheard. “Some people are too powerful to have an opinion about. They just are. I’m sorry, was that all? I have to get back to the kitchen.”
“Yes, thank you,” Andrew said slowly.
The exchange left Helene feeling uncomfortable and more than a little disloyal to her uncle. She took a few bills from her wallet and put them on the table. “Would you mind making sure the check gets paid? I have to go.”
Andrew dropped another bill and joined her. “It’ll be fine. I’ll walk out with you.”
She made it all the way outside the restaurant before she spun on him. “When I said I have to go, I meant without you.”
He rubbed a hand over his face. “She didn’t say anything bad about your uncle.”
Helene waved a hand. “It wouldn’t have mattered if she had. Tell her that when you sleep with her later.”
He frowned. “When I what?”
Angry with herself for even caring, Helene glared at him. “I saw you take her number.”
His hand went to the pocket where he’d placed the napkin. “And you thought we were hooking up?”
“I didn’t think anything because I don’t even know you. I couldn’t care less about who you do what with.”
The stupid grin returned to his face. “Liar. Don’t worry, I didn’t like the idea of creeper doctor touching you, either.”
With a frustrated growl, Helene spun away and started walking. She hadn’t brought a car because Gil had picked her up; she’d worry about how to get home later. Right then all she cared about was getting as far away from Andrew Smith as she could. She halted without looking back at him. “Is Andrew Smith even your name?”
“Andrew is.”
I knew it. She forced herself to start walking again.
“Helene?” he called out softly.
She stopped again. “What?”
“You forgot something.”
She instantly felt for her purse and was relieved she’d remembered to grab it. She opened it and did a quick check for her wallet and phone. By the time she looked up he was beside her. “I have everything,” she said in confusion.
“Oh, then I forgot something.” With that he cupped her face between his hands and kissed her with a boldness that shocked her into submission. His tongue teased her lips to open, and they did as if it were the most natural thing to do. As if kissing a complete stranger in the middle of a parking lot was something she did regularly. He explored her mouth with a gentleness she hadn’t expected and with a thoroughness that had her melting against him.
A young female voice called out loudly, “Hypocrite.”
Andrew broke off the kiss but continued to look into her eyes, his ragged breath warming her skin. “She’s right. I am. But you do something to me.”
Helene stepped back, covering her mouth with shaking fingers. He did something to her, too. He made her forget who he was and why it was important to stay away from him. “You need to stop kissing me.”
“I’m trying,” he said without humor. He studied her face. “Do you have a way to get home?”
“I’m not getting in a car with you.”
“How about a cab I call for you?”
“Who are you?”
He seemed to consider his next words carefully before saying, “Andrew Barrington.”
“Did someone send you to dig up dirt on my uncle?”
“No.” She sagged with relief until he added, “They sent me to find a nurse who used to work for him.”
“Why?”
Another long pause. “My brother died at your uncle’s clinic twenty-nine years ago.”
It took a moment to absorb what he was saying before asking, “How?”
“He was born prematurely.”
“That’s sad, but I don’t understand why you’d think it was the clinic’s fault.”
