Charade by Sandra Brown Read Free Book Online

"Don't underestimate your notoriety, Dr. Spicer. You've become almost as famous as your companion." "Fan magazines," Dean said with a self-effacement he didn't truly feel. He enjoyed the public recognition he received for being Cat Delaney's "significant other," as a Hollywood gossip columnist had recently labeled him. "The publicity generated by the tabloids hasn't detracted from your renown as a cardiologist," Webster told him. "Thank you." He paused. "I only wish I could give all my patients as good a prognosis as Cat's. Her recovery has been remarkable." "Are you surprised?" "Not at all. I expected it of her. She's not only an exceptional patient but an exceptional individual. Once she made it through the first difficult weeks of recovery," Dean continued, "she resolved to live to a ripe old age. She'll make it, too. Her greatest asset is her optimism. She's the pride of the entire transplant program at our hospital." "I understand she's a very vocal proponent of organ transplants." "She speaks on behalf of donor awareness and frequently visits the transplant patients who are waiting for organs. When they get down, she encourages them not to give up hope. They look upon her as an angel." He chuckled and smiled affectionately. "They don't know her as well as I do. She has the fiery temper redheads are noted for." "In spite of her temper, you're obviously an admirer." "Very much so. In fact, we plan to marry soon." That wasn't entirely the truth. He planned to marry Cat. She continued to hedge. He'd asked her many times to move into his Beverly Hills home, but she still resided in her beach house in
    Malibu, claiming that the ocean was therapeutic, vital to her spiritual and physical health. "I draw strength just from gazing at it." She also maintained that her independence was essential to her well-being. The independence issue was a flimsy excuse for them not to marry. Dean certainly didn't intend to shackle her to the kitchen stove once she became his wife. In fact, he wanted her to continue her career. The last thing he needed was a hausfrau. They dated each other exclusively. No ghosts from past relationships haunted either of them. Upon her full recovery, he'd been delighted to discover that they were sexually compatible. Each was financially secure, so it wasn't a matter of unbalanced earning capacity. He could see no viable reason for her continued refusal of his proposals. He'd patiently deferred to her wishes, but now that her transplant was considered a total success and her stardom was firmly reestablished on Passages, he intended to apply more pressure for a commitment. He had resolved not to give up until Cat Delaney was wholly his. "Then congratulations are in order," Webster said, raising his glass of champagne. Dean returned Bill Webster's smile and clinked glasses.
    While listening to an advertising executive wax poetic about her incredible courage--he'd never before actually touched someone who'd had a heart transplant--Cat was looking beyond his shoulder at Dean and the man to whom he'd been talking for the last several minutes. She didn't recognize him; her curiosity was aroused. "Thank you so much for all the cards you sent during my convalescence." As unobtrusively as possible, she pulled her hand from the ad exec's clasp. "Please excuse me now. I just spotted a friend I haven't seen in a while." With the practiced ease of a diplomat, she negotiated her way through the crowd. Several people tried to engage her in conversation, but she paused only long enough to exchange pleasantries and respond to congratulations and compliments.
    Because she had looked so bad for so long before her transplant, she felt quite justified in her conceit over how fantastic she looked tonight. Her hair had regained its luster, although the steroids she'd had to take immediately following the surgery had turned it a darker, but no less vibrant, shade of red. For tonight's festivities, she'd swept it into a topknot designed