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“Like I said, old custom.”
Hungry, she enjoyed her meal, but by the looks of it, Lev had been even more famished. He made his rack of lamb disappear. She wiped her mouth. “So where is home?”
“Montana.”
“Really?”
“Why so surprised?”
“I don’t know. I guess because it’s cowboy or pioneer country. I thought you’d be more the New York type.”
He furrowed his brow. “I’m like a pioneer.”
Rachel could see him as an eighteen century Russian fur trapper or explorer, but could also imagine him hobnobbing in Manhattan as well. The sexy stubble on his face could go beard for mountain man or shaved gentleman for the opera. Ugh. Her brain turned to romantic mush. She killed the romance by talking about her work for Doctors Without Borders. He listened, not the least bit bored or intimidated by what he might perceive as a threat to his ego. “How exactly did you meet my father?”
“He saved my life.”
“You mean he performed a lifesaving surgery?”
“Yes. If not for him, I would not be walking.”
Good one, Howard. No wonder he’s beyond grateful. “Still doesn’t explain how you met.”
“I was shot in the back, my spine severed and your father was the surgeon on call.”
“Shot?” In battle, by a criminal, or by the police? She had a million questions. When she met his eyes to ask, she felt compelled to change the subject. “Sorry, I’m being too nosy.”
“I enjoy your curiosity, but some matters are too delicate to discuss.”
“I’m starting to realize Howard has plenty of secrets.”
“Don’t we all?”
“Have you ever seen those claw marks on my father’s arm?” Most of the time, he wore long sleeved shirts, but when he returned from a run, she saw them and asked. He’d given her some lame story about being attacked by a big guard dog. It made no sense. Dogs bite, not claw.
Lev stiffened for a fraction of a second. “I imagine he might have been attacked by a wild beast. Perhaps a bear.”
She snorted. “He said a dog, but honestly, the scars looked too deep and even perfectly aligned. Almost like a tattoo.”
“If I ever run across your father, I’ll ask.”
She poked at her fish as if combating her curiosity. “I guess you don’t travel in similar circles.”
“We do not. During my recovery, Howard and I became friends. Don’t you ever meet former patients outside your circle of friends?”
“Yes, but none of my patients travelled far and wide to offer me a gift.”
His tone turned harsh. “I am grateful and owe him my life.”
She flinched. “Yes, of course.” The way he spoke seemed over the top intense, as if confirming a vow. And even more unusual, her need to question him quelled.
His voice softened. “Would you like dessert?”
“No. I’m good.” The type of dessert she wanted was not on the menu, but on the porn channel. She glanced at her watch. “Actually, I should head back soon.”
He signaled the waiter. “Check.”
“Thank you so much for dinner. Are you sure you don’t want me to pitch in?” She took out her wallet.
