Wyoming True - Diana Palmer Page 0,3
key back to Cindy when he’s done.”
She was just standing there, surprised at how easily he organized things. A voice was coming over the smartphone.
“Oh, sorry,” she said into the receiver. “Listen, I’ve had the offer of a ride. I’ll leave the key inside the café with Cindy. She can give it to you and you can hand it back to her when you finish. That work? Great. Thanks so much. I’m really sorry... Of course. Thanks.”
She hung up. She glanced at Jake warily. “You’re sure it’s not out of your way?”
He shook his head. “Give me the key.”
She handed it to him. He gestured to a red Mercedes and used his own smart key to unlock it. “Go ahead and get in. I won’t be a minute.”
He didn’t wait to see if she complied; he turned and strode back into the café. Ida stared after him with mingled discomfort and appreciation. He was very handsome. Tall, fit, muscular without it being overly obvious. He had beautiful manners and eyes that seemed to pierce all the way to the soul. If she’d been able to find a man attractive, he’d have been at the top of her list. As it was, that was impossible.
* * *
SHE WAS SITTING in the passenger seat with her seat belt fastened when he climbed in beside her.
“I’ve never driven a Mercedes. Are they nice?” she asked, to make conversation.
“They’re immortal and almost never break down. Where are we going?” he added abruptly.
“Sorry. Aspen Street, just past the bakery.”
He nodded, cranked the big car and pulled out of the parking lot.
She held her bulky purse in her lap and dug her nails into it. He couldn’t know how difficult it was for her to sit with a man who was more or less a stranger. He disliked her and made no secret of it. Jerking out of his arms and running at that party they’d attended separately had just made things worse.
She stared out the window as he drove, not even trying to make conversation.
She directed him to the parking lot of a group of orthopedic surgeons. He didn’t comment, but she was young, or seemed to be. He associated orthopedics with elderly people.
“Thanks for the ride,” she said quietly.
“You’ll need a ride home,” he replied. “Give me your cell phone.”
He spoke with such authority that she handed it over without thinking.
He took it and pulled up her contact list. It was blank. He looked at her with a faint scowl.
She swallowed, hard. “Why do you need my phone?”
He pulled up a screen and put his own contact information into it. He handed it back. “That’s my cell phone number. Call me when you’re through here and I’ll drive you back to your car.”
“I can get a cab...”
He just looked at her.
She bit her lower lip. “It will be an imposition.”
She was fascinating him. The image of her he’d built up seemed nothing like the reality. She was uncomfortable with him, shy, withdrawn. He’d only seen her being vivacious, the life of the party. Was it a mask?
“I have to check in at my feed store and look over some accounts with the manager. It won’t be an inconvenience.”
“Well...okay, then. Thank you.”
He shrugged. He turned off the engine, went around and opened the door for her. She actually flushed.
“Is that not allowed in our modern, too-liberal society? Opening doors for women?”
“I like nice manners, and I don’t care if it’s acceptable or not,” she stammered.
He cocked his head and looked down at her with open curiosity.
“Thanks again. I’ll be late,” she added, glancing at the plain watch on her wrist. She turned and walked slowly toward the building.
It wasn’t really blatant, but he could see that she limped a little when she walked. Odd. An old injury? he wondered. A fall or something? Not his business. But he was curious about her. Far more curious than he wanted to be.
* * *
IDA SAT IN the waiting room for her turn to see Dr. Menzer and tried to understand why Jake McGuire, who obviously disliked her, had been so kind to her. She didn’t expect kindness from men. She pretended to be a wild woman, just to make men leave her alone. She exaggerated her reputation, let it be rumored that she had high standards for her bedroom and talked about fictional men she’d had affairs with to give the idea that she’d gossip about a man who didn’t measure up to her expectations. As she’d