Page 60 of White Collar Rancher

It would be easier to be bitter and defensive if the woman didn’t seem so nice. As it was, LaShay gushed about Natasha’s fund-raising efforts and the quality of the children’s hospital. There was no spite in Emmett’s date. Only excitement and compassion glittered in her intelligent eyes.

Emmett had not only moved on, but had done so with someone who seemed genuine and was probably skilled and talented in her own right. It’s not like Emmett would have settled for less, of course. Priya wanted to feel good about getting over Emmett, even if it was because a sheep rancher had stolen her heart and trashed it. Maybe Emmett would pity her and put her on a bypass machine so she didn’t have to deal with the pain of losing someone who didn’t love her back.

The night’s not about me. If she said that enough, maybe she could get out of the doorway and fund-raise. Then she could tuck herself into bed with a whole bottle of champagne.

“LaShay is a physician, too. A cardiologist.” Surprisingly, there was no conceit or pointedness in his tone. Only pride and affection. So unfair.

“What’s your specialty?” LaShay asked.

“OB/GYN.” She hoped LaShay put up with Emmett’s superiority complex, or better yet, stabbed him with one of her three-inch stilettos when he got uppity. Since the next question would be where she worked, she answered that as well. “I went back to my hometown in Minnesota to practice.”

Emmett’s brow furrowed as he frowned. “Wasn’t one of the topics of Natasha’s seminars about a death at your clinic?”

How had he— A hot flush licked up her spine, flushing her face. The information she’d given Natasha for the case study was supposed to remain anonymous and for educational purposes only as far as patient name and location. But their circle of friends from medical school was close, and Natasha had probably given little thought of mentioning the specifics to him.

Since the confidentiality threshold had been crossed, she had to add a little detail. She didn’t have the luxury of being detached from those she treated. “She wasn’t just a patient. She was my best friend growing up.”

Emmett tsked. “Treating friends is tricky. Feelings are bound to get in the way of objectivity.”

LaShay’s expression morphed into pity, which a touch of well-meaning you should’ve known better.

A deep rumble from behind Priya interjected. “I can’t imagine that’s possible to avoid in a town of ten thousand.” The voice sent spirals of desire through her belly, pooling between her legs. Her body lit up like the chandeliers hanging from the ceiling, sparking to life after too long away from him.

No. She had to be hearing things. But she wasn’t.

“Priya treats old classmates, their moms, their grandmas. Another five to ten years, their daughters will be her patients. But a true professional can be objective in spite of their feelings. Or because of, perhaps.” Justin ended on a smooth note, a little hint of question with knowing undertones. A guy who could put Emmett in his place, but in a way that would make him agree with everything that was said.

She chanced a look at Justin and did a double take. Gone was the scruffy beard. Cleanly shaven, his hard jaw was prominent and—was that a cleft in his chin? He’d trimmed his hair, too. Tapered, the longer hair on the top was smartly combed to the side. His keen gaze was planted directly on her.

“Justin. What are you—”

“Sorry I’m late.” Justin grinned at Emmett and LaShay. That calculating smile. This was the man who closed deals in the boardroom. She’d stupidly assumed that room was more like the small staff lounge in the hospital.

But, no. This guy was comfortable in his Tom Ford tux, the one she’d gushed over.

He leaned toward Emmett like he was telling them a secret. “I didn’t think I could come, and I had to do some of the toughest negotiations in my career with Natasha to score an invite.”

Priya feathered her fingers across her collarbone. Damn her nerves. “And how did you score an invite?”

That grin was aimed in her direction. She almost sighed, but the effect was too powerful. “Other than begging to be your plus-one? I spent plenty of years making stupid money before I settled into sheep ranching. Now I can put some of it to good use.” He cocked his head. “If you can convince me.”

LaShay’s tinkling laughter cut between them. “A sheep rancher with deep pockets. Sounds absolutely juicy. We’ll have to plan a meet up before the weekend is over.” She glanced over her shoulder at the ballroom floor. “But speaking of raising money, we’d better go work the crowd.”

She dragged Emmett away, but Emmett cast one last furtive glance between her and Justin. What was her ex’s perplexed expression for? He didn’t believe she could’ve, or would’ve, moved on after him? Or was her own expression so full of disbelief and indecision that he was concerned?

No time for Emmett. Justin was here.

“What are you doing here?” she asked tightly.

“Apologizing.”

She stared at him. Where was that server with all the champagne?

“You look beautiful,” he whispered, his voice full of longing.

“You’ll have to do better. I was already called gorgeous tonight.”

He shoved his hands in his pockets. Were those suits designed just to make the male figure more devastating? It didn’t help that she knew what he looked like underneath it. “By who? The ex with the fiancée with the giant rock?”

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