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Tamara laughed. The sultry sound filled the confined space, sending shivers up Duncan’s spine. He suspected the woman pressed to his side was unaware of how sexy her voice, laugh and curvy body were concealed under a man’s shirt and body-hugging jeans.
“I became a doctor to spite my mother.”
Chapter 2
Tamara couldn’t believe she’d just told Duncan something she’d never told another living soul—and that included the man whom she’d believed was the love of her life before he’d become the bane of her existence. It didn’t matter what she said to Duncan Gilmore because after they were rescued from the elevator the odds were she would never see him again.
“Spite her how?” Duncan asked.
How, she mused, had she not noticed the low, sensual timbre of the voice of the man pressed against her side? Physically he was perfect, and she felt an unexpected jolt of envy for the woman who claimed him for herself.
“I spent all of my childhood and the beginning of my adult life trying to get the approval of my overly critical mother. I’m the youngest of three girls and my sisters Renata and Tiffany are black Barbie dolls, and there wasn’t a day when my mother didn’t remind me that not only was I taller but I also weighed much more than they did.”
“How much do they weigh?”
“Tiffany claims she’s one-ten, while Renata admits to being one-thirteen.”
“How tall are they?”
“Both are five-eight.”
“Aren’t they anorexic?”
Tamara forced a smile. “I’d say they are. At thirty-six and thirty-eight they wear a size zero and a size two after having several children. But Mother says they’re perfect. They had debutante cotillions, but I was denied one because my mother claimed she didn’t want me looking like I was wearing a white tent.”
Duncan stared at Tamara’s hands, which were balled up in fists. He didn’t know whether she’d been an overweight teen, but she definitely wasn’t now. Her figure was full, rounded and undeniably womanly. Everything about Tamara Wolcott was feminine and as close to perfection as a woman could get.
“Were you overweight?”
“No. I was five-ten and weighed one forty-five. My pediatrician constantly told Mother I wasn’t overweight. But she has her own set of standards that were and are totally unrealistic. The Wolcotts have been educators for more than a century, so when I graduated from college it was expected that I go into teaching. I never told anyone that I wanted to be a doctor, so I took a lot of math and science courses pretending that I planned to teach science or math.
“My oldest sister was getting married and Mother was so focused on making certain Renata would have the wedding of the season that she didn’t have time to monitor my life. I took the GMAT and the MCAT, and got nearly perfect scores. Meanwhile I’d applied to medical schools.”
“Where did you go?”
“New York University. I’d been accepted at SUNY Stony Brook, but decided against it because that’s where my father is head of the sociology department.”
“Did you live on campus?”
Tilting her chin, Tamara stared at Duncan. “Not the first year. Getting up before dawn and commuting from Long Island into Manhattan five days a week left me with little or no time for studying. Once I was approved for campus housing my life changed and I swore never to live at home again.”
Resting his hand over her clasped ones, Duncan gave it a gentle squeeze. “Were you screaming, ‘Free at last?’”
“How did you know?”
“I knew a few people who had parents who refused to cut the umbilical cord.”
Tamara laid her head against his shoulder again as if it was something she’d done countless times. “Did it happen with you, Duncan?”
“No. I think it’s different with guys, because we’re expected to grow up and be men, while daddies think of their daughters as little girls even when they’re grown women.”
He recalled the in-depth conversation he’d had with Kalinda’s father who’d said he expected his daughter to be still a virgin when she married. What the older man hadn’t known was that Duncan wasn’t the first man who’d slept with her, but there was no way he was going to reveal that to his future father-in-law.
“Unfortunately the double standard is still alive and kicking,” Tamara drawled, adding an unladylike snort. “I hope you don’t make distinctions between your children whether they’re girls or boys.”
“If I had children, I doubt that I would consciously treat them differently. What I can say for certain is that if some guy decides he’s going to take advantage of my daughter, he’d better make funeral arrangements, because I’d definitely take him out.”
“But you are making a distinction, Duncan,” she argued softly.
“Do you have any children, Tamara?”
“No.”
“Since we’re both childless, then the topic is moot.”
“Because you say so,” she retorted.
Duncan groaned. “Tamara, Tamara, Tamara. Why are you so argumentative?”
Tamara pulled her hands away. “You think I am?”
“Yes.”
She sobered. “Sorry. I didn’t realize I came off sounding that way.”
It was Duncan’s turn to be repentant. “Perhaps I used the wrong word. I should’ve said you appear defensive.”
“Don’t tell me you’re a therapist.”
“Nope.”
The seconds ticked off. “What are you?” Tamara asked when he seemed reluctant to answer her question.
“I’m a financial planner.”
“Are you a financial planner or an accountant?”
“I’m both.”
“Do you practice accounting?”
Duncan shook his head. “Not in the traditional sense.”
“Why did you get an accounting degree if not to practice or teach?”
“It’s a long story.”
Tamara gave him a winning smile. “Didn’t you say we have nothing but time? And besides, you have a captive audience.”
Duncan returned her smile with a dazzling one of his own, unaware of the effect it had on the woman beside him. “I’ll tell you on one condition.”
She gave him a skeptical look. “What’s that?”
“If you snap at me again, then you’ll have to take me out to dinner. Then I’ll tell you what you want to know.”
“And if I don’t?”
“Then I’ll take you out.”
“What are you going to say to your wife or girlfriend about taking a strange woman to dinner?”
Duncan angled his head as he met Tamara’s eyes. There was amusement shimmering in the black orbs. “I don’t have a wife or girlfriend, so the issue is also moot.”
Tamara gave him a long, penetrating stare. “I should’ve met you years ago before I was going through what became a very contentious divorce.”
“Are you married now?”
“No. And I’ve never been happier.”
“You didn’t like being married?”
“I loved being married,” she admitted. “It was just how it ended. My ex cleaned out our joint bank accounts, and because I wanted to be rid of the bastard I gave him our Upper Eastside co-op. And if that wasn’t enough he also wanted my dog.”
“Did you give up the pooch?”
Tamara’s eyes filled with tears when she remembered the fluffy white bichon frise that had been her constant companion. Edward Bennett had refused to sign off on the divorce papers until she gave up the apartment and the dog, then he promptly sold the co-op and gave her pet to an ex-wife she knew nothing about.
“Yes. It was either give up Snowflake or go to prison for murder.” Her delicate jaw hardened. “I lost many sleepless nights thinking of the different ways I could take him out.”
Duncan winced. “It was that bad?”
“I was at the lowest point in my life and he knew it. I’d just completed my PGY-3. Third-year residency,” Tamara explained when Duncan gave her a confused stare. “I was just recovering from taking the fourth part of the medical boards and my nerves were shot from working thirty-six hours with little or no sleep. I suspected something was wrong because Edward started complaining that we never got to see one another, and when we did, I paid more attention to Snowflake than I did to him.”
“Didn’t he know that when he married a doctor?”
“He knew exactly what it took for me to become a doctor. He’d been through the same course of study. But it was apparent he’d forgotten.”
Duncan went completely still. “He’s also a doctor?”
Tamara nodded. “We met during my first year in medical school. He was my anatomy professor,” she said after a comfortable silence. “I was twenty, impressionable and very, very gullible. Edward was fifty-six, elegant, erudite, and I didn’t know at the time that I was to become his third wife, or that his daughter was also a medical student at Harvard.”
“How did your parents react to your marrying a man more than twice your age?”
“My father was upset because he and Edward were about the same age, but Mother, being the social climber that she is, was thrilled that her daughter had chosen to marry a doctor.”
“How long were you married?”
“Six years, and in the end I walked away with what I’d brought into the marriage—the clothes on my back. The apartment was his and he’d given me Snowflake as a gift.”
“What about alimony, Tamara? You were at least entitled to that.”
“I thought I was until my lawyer told me that Edward was paying alimony to two ex-wives and college tuition for three children.”
Duncan was momentarily speechless in his surprise. It was no wonder she was angry, abrasive. Tamara had married a stranger, a man who’d managed to conceal his past until it had caught up with him. Was her ex that wily, or was Tamara that naive? It was probably the latter. If she was engrossed in med school, studying for the boards and working around the clock as a resident, then delving into her husband’s past was not a priority for her.
“Do you still see your ex?” he asked.
“Thankfully no. He transferred to a small medical school in Rhode Island.”
“Has he remarried?” Duncan teased.
“I hope not,” Tamara countered. “Being married to Edward taught me one thing—never to put all of my eggs in one basket. When he emptied the bank accounts he took the money my grandparents had given me as a gift for my education. I had to take out a loan to get an apartment because I knew I couldn’t continue to live with Edward, and also to have enough to pay a lawyer to handle the divorce. After I got my license, I worked double and triple shifts to pay off the loans.”
“Your lawyer should’ve forced him to return your money.”
Tamara heard the censure in Duncan’s normally melodic tone. He probably believed she’d given up too easily, that she’d permitted a man to take advantage of her. “There was no money for him to return, Duncan. He’d lost every penny in Atlantic City.”
“If he was that broke, then your attorney should’ve insisted he sell the co-op and return your money.”
“Easy, Duncan,” she teased, “you’re snapping at me again.”
His face was a mask of icy anger. “You were screwed twice. Once by your ex and again by your lawyer.”
“Don’t worry. It’s never going to happen again.”
“Because you say so, Tamara?”
“Yes, because I’ll never trust another man as long as I live.”
“Do you think that’s fair?” Duncan asked.
“What?”
“That you lump all men into the same category.”
“It’s not about what’s fair and not fair,” Tamara countered. “It’s about how men have treated me.”
“It’s how you have let men treat you,” Duncan said in a quiet voice.
“Oh, so you’re blaming me for not knowing that my ex hid the fact that he’d been married before? Or that he’d had children from his previous marriages? It didn’t dawn on me to do a background check on him.”
Tamara inhaled and held her breath before letting it out slowly. The heat inside the elevator car was stifling and she was beginning to perspire—something she detested. She’d gone to a colleague’s apartment in the highrise to shower and change her clothes instead of going to her aprtment in the East Village. If she’d known she was going to be stuck in an elevator, then taking the downtown subway several stops would’ve been preferable, even though she avoided riding the subway whenever possible. Her usual mode of transportation was either a bus or a taxi, the latter only in an emergency.
Despite the build-up of heat in the elevator, Duncan draped an arm over Tamara’s shoulders, pulling her closer. “I’m not beating up on you, Tamara. I just want you to realize that all men aren’t like your ex or the lawyer who swindled you out of your money while not bothering to represent you.”
Tilting her chin, Tamara stared into the large, clear brown eyes with the dark centers. “If I’d known you, would you have advocated for me?”
“If I’d been your financial planner, I would’ve told you to keep your money separate from your husband’s, especially if it was money that you’d accumulated before the marriage.”
