creating awareness for a good cause?”
The eyes staring at him were wide and stunned. Why, he wasn’t sure, since they’d dined together the night before. Surely if she’d heard about the photo and gossip, she would have said so. Still, she just stood there, her lips parted but mute.
“Is my English not as good as I think it is? I asked if you’d attend a party with me. Did I accidentally ask you to eat worms?” he teased, hoping to get a real smile and a yes from her.
“Um, no. Your English, as you well know, is better than most who speak it as a first language.” The smile she gave him was strained, but it was a start. “But I’m afraid I can’t come with you.”
“Why not?”
“It just...wouldn’t be right. Excuse me while I check back with Cameron.”
He watched her tear from the room as though that gorgeous hair of hers was actually on fire and not just shimmering with flaming hues. He wasn’t used to being turned down flat and wondered if it just might have to do with her running from the barely banked-down heat they’d shared last night.
Remembering that the whole reason he’d come to NICU had been to find some inner calm, he turned to little Skye, sweetly and innocently lying in her crib. But he wasn’t really seeing her. He was seeing Gabriella’s expression as she’d looked at the infant, and he knew without a doubt that whatever had caused that anguish was something she’d been carrying for too long.
Yes, he’d been given orders from headquarters—which meant his parents—to hide from the past, unwelcome limelight for a while. And maybe it would be a mistake to expose Gabriella and whatever secrets she carried to the heavy weight of that microscope along with him. But thinking about her somehow told him with absolute certainty that hiding wasn’t the answer. Not for him, and not for Gabriella. It was time for both of them to put their pasts behind them, and the first steps to making that happen would take place at a certain charity ball. A ball with plenty of supporters. Allies who’d be more than happy to convince her to attend with him.
“EVERYTHING LOOKS GREAT, Freya, with baby the perfect size for a healthy fetus, four months in gestation,” Gabby said, smiling. “And you look wonderful too. Your skin is positively glowing. Can I admit to being jealous?”
She’d said the words to make Freya happy, but right after she’d spoken them, the unpleasant, unexpected, and unwelcome cloud weightily slipped over her head again. Why were the memories becoming more frequent, instead of more distant? She had no idea, but dwelling on it accomplished nothing, and she did her best to shake off the gray gloom, because Freya deserved the true joy Gabby felt for her friend and employer.
“I do feel wonderful, honestly.” Freya’s smile was big enough to banish some of Gabby’s moping and make her smile too. “Though several friends have told me to enjoy it while it lasts, because after it arrives I’ll be so sleep-deprived I’ll forget the baby’s name.”
Freya’s words dashed the final remnants of gloom, and Gabby had to laugh. “Maybe not quite that much. But no matter how many times I warn new mothers that a lot of babies refuse to sleep, no one really hears it until they’re living it.”
“Well, either way, sleep or no sleep, I’m beyond excited.” Freya sat up and adjusted her exam gown. “Half-dressed isn’t the way to talk business, but since we’re both so busy I’m going to take advantage of this time alone to chat.”
“About?”
“The charity ball. Rafael Moreno told me he asked you to go with him, but you told him you didn’t want to.” Her voice became chiding. “Really, Gabby, why in the world would you say that?”
Her stomach plunged and tightened as she stared at Freya in surprise. How was she supposed to answer that? Oh, I find him too sexy and attractive, that’s all, and my life is devoted to my work now.
“Well, he’s a little overbearing, don’t you think? And arrogant.”
And unbearably hot.
“I think it’s confidence more than arrogance,” Freya said with a smile. “But you don’t have to be best friends with him, or even particularly like him, to attend the ball with him, Gabby. The purpose of the fundraiser is to raise awareness and money for the Bright Hope Clinic. When one of our own obstetricians, temporary or not, who happens to also be a prince attends the ball, that’s news. Like it or not, that’s the way the world works. Rafael pointed out to me that if the head midwife at the hospital is the prince’s date for the night, that’s even bigger news, and exactly the kind of public relations opportunity I’m always looking for.”
How weird was it that Freya’s words sent Gabby’s stomach sinking in dread at the same time her chest lifted in excitement and her darned subconscious immediately imagined what kind of dress she should wear to such an event? Clearly Rafael Moreno’s arrival at The Hollywood Hills Clinic had sent her sanity a little off-kilter, since she really should be annoyed that he’d gotten Freya involved, using that kind of manipulation to get her to attend with him. Another example of the man’s colossal ego!
But even if her entire body had been filled with dread instead of that peculiar mixture of emotions, it wasn’t like she could say no. She believed in what the Bright Hope Clinic was doing, and if she could contribute in any way, big or small, she wanted to.
“Fine. I’ll go.” She hoped Freya didn’t notice that her gruffly sighed answer was charged with anticipation too. After all, what woman in her right mind—or even confused one—wouldn’t want to be Cinderella for just one night, attending a ball with a handsome prince?
She’d just have to be sure to leave her glass slippers buried deep in her closet at home.
* * *
When Gabby had decided to install a new top-to-bottom door mirror in her closet, she’d never dreamed that she’d be needing it to look at herself in a long gown. A gown she’d be wearing to attend a ball with a handsome prince. Gabby snorted and shook her head at herself, wondering how a grown woman could feel so wrapped up in thinking about a party and what she’d be wearing, like a teenager going to the prom. Ridiculous.
She studied the lines of her dress. Turned side to side, looked at the back, then the front again. And sighed. Because she knew full well that the majority of women attending the ball tonight would be wearing designer dresses that cost more than her month’s rent, not to mention that there wouldn’t be a single one there who’d made her own gown.
Filled with jitters of doubt now, she worried that maybe she shouldn’t have done that. Why had she been so convinced she shouldn’t just buy one off the rack? The answer was because she knew anything she could afford would be made from substandard fabrics, compared to the glamorous, designer dresses the rich and famous would be wearing tonight. And she knew how to sew, didn’t she?
Her strong, female ancestors had not only studied midwifery and spent their lives helping others, they’d been talented seamstresses. Hadn’t learning at her grandmother and mother’s knees given her the skills to pull this off? Staring at her dress now, she wasn’t so sure. The ring of her doorbell...a loud, silly horse whinny the previous avid horseracing fan tenants had installed...made her jump. Then laugh out loud. Clearly Cinderella’s carriage had arrived, except the prince was already on board, not waiting at the ball.
Resisting the urge to wipe her suddenly sweaty hands down the emerald-green fabric of her gown, she opened the front door. Then stared, her breath hitching.
She’d thought Dr. Rafael Moreno had been attractive in the scrubs that showed his strong physique? In a dress shirt and pants at the clinic, and when they’d gone to dinner? Those Rafael Morenos had nothing on this one, who exuded royal arrogance from head to toe in a tuxedo that fitted him so perfectly she knew it had to have been tailor-made for him. His shirt was so white it was practically blinding, his classic