Praise for Karen Rose Smith:

“…powerful characterization, balanced emotional moments, and a tense, compelling story line.”

—Romantic Times on His Little Girl’s Laughter

“Karen Rose Smith has penned a delightfully heartwarming tale filled with faith, hope and joy.”

—Romantic Times on Just the Man She Needed

“Dynamic, skillful and refreshing, Karen Rose Smith’s writing keeps the reader turning pages and begging for more. Ms. Smith’s near flawless style, realistic characters and tension-filled plots make for a satisfying experience every time you read one of her books.”

—Cataromance.com

“Karen Rose Smith writes her books with heart, flooding her words with emotion and demanding a reaction from the reader. Ms. Smith is a shining star in the romance world….”

—WritersUnlimited.com

“Karen Rose Smith stories are what romance is all about.”

—RomanceJunkies.com

The Good Doctor
Karen Rose Smith

www.millsandboon.co.uk

Dear Reader,

Revisiting a Texas setting is a pleasure for me. Returning to the Double Crown and the Fortune family is exciting. The family is steeped in history and intrigue that surrounds likeable characters, as well as villains. In this continuity, I had the opportunity to write about Ryan and Lily Fortune again, along with my hero and heroine who are doctors. The research surrounding all of it was fascinating. One aspect of writing a continuity I particularly enjoy is working with the other authors to coordinate story lines and characters. While writing a continuity, I reconnect with old friends and make new ones.

In The Good Doctor, Violet Fortune and Peter Clark face obstacles in their path to love. The continuity characters have their own hurdles to overcome. Writing about the Fortune family is always a challenging adventure. I hope you laugh and shed a tear as you read this story. If you do, I know I’ve accomplished my goal—making the Fortunes real for my readers.

All my best,

To my agent, Evan Marshall. It’s hard to believe we’ve been together over ten years. Thank you for your ongoing support, encouragement and counsel.

Many thanks to Dr. Steve Goldberg and his wife Kristi for their help with medical research.

The information you provided was invaluable.

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Epilogue

Bonus Features

One

“You’ve got it all now,” Linda Clark decided as she appraised her brother.

“Just wait till those nurses get a gander at you,” Stacey agreed, her smile as wide as her sister’s.

Dr. Peter Clark swiftly closed his office door, hoping no one had heard. “Cool it, you two,” he demanded in a stern voice as he strode to his desk, wondering how long this visit was going to last. He had an appointment in fifteen minutes. His sisters weren’t in awe of him as some of his patients were, so it might be hard to kick them out. He loved them dearly but sometimes…

“I don’t know why I let you dress me like a mannequin,” he grumbled. He was still not sure the navy tweed blazer was something he would have chosen on his own. He definitely wouldn’t have bought the silk shirt and the patterned designer tie.

“You turned thirty-nine yesterday, and you wouldn’t even let us give you a party. The least we could do is spruce you up a bit,” Linda teased, brushing her dark brown hair away from her face. “Now tall, dark and handsome really applies. I like the new haircut, and we didn’t even have anything to do with that.”

“My regular barber was out of town.”

A laugh came from Stacey’s direction. “Thank goodness! The only thing we could add now is color contacts to make your eyes a little greener.”

He’d had enough. They’d taken him to lunch and then accompanied him to a men’s store to pick up his tuxedo for Friday night. Despite his protests, they’d insisted on buying him a blazer, shirt and tie as birthday gifts, convincing the store manager to have them pressed so he could wear the outfit back to the office. His usual routine wasn’t as frivolous, not by a long shot. Most days he was in the hospital or in surgery from dawn to dusk. This venture into the lighter side of life just didn’t fit him any more than some of those blazers he’d tried on.

He deliberately checked his watch. “I have an appointment in ten minutes.”

“We’re not leaving until you assure us you’ll show up on Friday night.”

Counting to five, he tried to keep the impatience from his voice. “You talked me into the bachelor auction because it’s for a good cause. I never go back on my word. Not even if that means I have to endure the humiliation of standing on a runway and having women bid on me. Now, as I said…”

Linda sighed. “Your life is much too serious. I couldn’t stand doing what you do. A pediatric neurosurgeon holds too much power in his hands. How do you handle that responsibility?”

“Very carefully,” he replied seriously.

Nothing meant more to him than his work and the kids he treated. In fact there was one right now who was breaking his heart. The bachelor auction would be raising money for high-tech equipment for the pediatrics wing to help children like Celeste. That was the only reason he’d agreed to be a part of it. That, and the fact that the wing had been built as a memorial to his mother. If only there was someone like his mom to help with his little patient. She needed loving care as much as she needed high-tech equipment and surgery—maybe even more.

There was a knock on his office door and Katrina, his receptionist, poked her head inside. His office would be chaos without her. He was in partnership with two other neurosurgeons and she made sure the organization of their schedules and appointments didn’t interfere with the work they did. She was a petite dynamo in her forties with short-cropped, curly black hair, a round face and an impish smile.

“Dr. Violet Fortune is here. I didn’t think you’d want to keep her waiting.”

Linda’s brows arched under her dark bangs. Stacey’s mouth rounded as she digested the Fortune name.

“A Fortune coming to see you? What’s all that about?” Linda asked. Then, as if a lightbulb went on in her head, she snapped her fingers. “Oh, I get it. Violet Fortune’s a neurologist with a reputation almost as good as yours. Maybe she came all the way from New York to consult with you.”

“Okay,” Peter said, rising to his feet. “You did not hear a name. You have amnesia about anything Katrina said.”

“We’ll see Violet Fortune on our way out. Her picture has been in the Red Rock Gazette now and then,” Linda concluded. “You know, that paper you never read because medical journals are more important.”

His sisters were successful women in their own right. Stacey owned a small boutique in one of San Antonio’s gallerias, and Linda was a loan officer with a major financial institution. Both of them, however, seemed to be able to see the lighter side of life much better than he could. Maybe because he’d been the firstborn. Maybe because when their mother had died, the event had shaken his world the most. Perhaps that was why they’d been able to accept his father’s quick remarriage afterward—as well as their stepmother—and he never could.

Both of them were on their feet now, realizing he did have work to do. Linda gave him a quick hug. “Happy day-after-your-birthday once more.” She patted the sleeve of his blazer. “Really hot,” she kidded again.

He couldn’t help but laugh then as Stacey hugged him, too, and added, “If not before, we’ll see you Friday night. Just make sure that black tie’s straight before you stroll down the runway, okay?”

When his sisters stepped into the hall, he decided to walk them out. He didn’t want them waylaying Dr. Fortune out of curiosity. They must have sensed that because they grinned at him, waved and cast a few long glances at the woman sitting in his waiting room. Seconds later they were gone and he turned his attention to Violet Fortune.

As soon as he did, he was caught off guard. She was stunning. Absolutely stunning. Her reputation as a brilliant diagnostician had already reached Texas. At only thirty-three, she’d already made her mark in her field. Maybe he’d envisioned her in a lab coat, with a severe hairdo and a no-non-sense demeanor, but the flesh-and-blood Violet Fortune was the polar opposite.

Her hair was light brown with sun streaks, chin-length and had obviously been cut and styled by someone who knew what he was doing. It was silky and bouncy, complementing the patrician lines of her face. Her eyes were light blue, sparkling and vulnerable. That surprised him, too, but then he didn’t know why she was here. Certainly she knew he had a pediatric neurosurgery practice. Did she have a child? Had his friends Ryan and Lily Fortune recommended him?

“Dr. Fortune?” he asked, just to make sure.

Standing, placing the magazine she’d been paging through on the chair beside her, she gave him a smile that socked him in the solar plexus. “Yes, I’m Dr. Fortune. Are you Dr. Clark?”

“Last time I looked,” he countered with his own smile, ignoring the lightninglike signals his libido was sending his body.

Since October in Red Rock, Texas, could still be warm, she was wearing a full-skirted royal blue dress with a yellow-and-red design around the hem. He suspected the short, boxy jacket covered straps to a sundress. Dark red high heels showed the curves of her legs to perfection, he noticed, then he quickly jerked his gaze up to hers.

When he extended his hand, the action helped him focus and he could more easily ignore the reaction he was having to her. “It’s good to meet you, although I’m a bit puzzled as to why you’re here.”

“Ryan and Lily have spoken highly of you.”

The soft grip of her hand registered along with everything else about her. She seemed to be looking into his eyes with the same intensity he was looking into hers, and that created electricity.

“I think highly of them,” he said, releasing her hand and pulling away.

Breaking eye contact, she quickly glanced around the office but no one else was in the room. Despite the fact his receptionist was behind her glass window, still Violet kept her voice low. “This visit has to do with Ryan.”

All business now, hearing the somberness in her voice, he motioned down the hall. “Let’s talk in my office.”

Having decided long ago not to follow in any man’s footsteps, Violet kept up with Peter’s long strides, studying him while he didn’t have his attention on her, wondering why the earth had seemed to shake a little when he’d taken her hand in his. She didn’t react that way to men, especially not male doctors. In fact, she’d begun to think something was wrong with her—that she was frigid. Since her teenage years when she’d so desperately sought a boy’s attention, something in her heart had simply turned off when it came to romantic relationships. Peter’s tall, lean but muscular physique, his short but thick black hair and his piercing green eyes had created a twitter inside of her she couldn’t seem to still.

His office door was open, and he stood aside so she could enter before him. A gentleman, she thought. Wasn’t that rare? She’d grown up with four brothers who treated her as a projection of themselves. Chivalry had never been part of their relationship, though the brothers were fiercely protective of her.

The aroma of coffee wafted around the office and Peter gestured to the pot on the credenza that had obviously just been brewed. “Katrina must have snuck in here and started that for me. Would you like a cup?”

“No thanks. I’m fine.” Violet was worried and anxious enough. She didn’t need caffeine revving her up more. Maybe that was why she felt this attraction to Dr. Clark, because her guard was down. It had been down for over two months now. That was why she’d come to Texas to her brothers’ ranch.

Apparently deciding his own mug of coffee could wait, Peter Clark lowered himself into the high-back, leather swivel chair behind his desk. He waited until she’d seated herself in one of the gray tweed chairs across from it. The barrier and the bit of distance made her feel more self-possessed than when he’d greeted her in the reception area.

“So what can I do for you?” he asked, curiosity evident in his expression.

Taking her dark red clutch bag in her hands, she opened it and extracted a legal-sized envelope. When she handed it to him, she concluded seriously, “You’d better read this first. It’s from Ryan.”

After he glanced at it, he looked even more perplexed. “Essentially it’s a release form giving you permission to discuss him with me.”

She nodded. “That’s precisely what it is. I’m not only a relative and good friend to Ryan and Lily, but I’m a neurologist, as well.”

“I know that. I’m familiar with the articles you’ve published. You’ve made a name for yourself in a short amount of time.”

“I guess New York isn’t as far from Texas as I sometimes think it is.”

“The world is getting smaller, but it’s more than that. Red Rock is a small community and the Fortune name means something here. Besides your relationship to Ryan and Lily, your brothers have established themselves, too.”

Her brothers Jack, Steven, Miles and Clyde had vacationed in Red Rock as kids and they all had decided to settle here as adults. Steven and his new bride, Amy, had bought his own ranch, Loma Vista, and was renovating it. A gala, during which the governor was going to present Ryan with an award, would take place there next month. Miles and Clyde’s cattle and chicken ranch, the Flying Aces, where she was staying, was thriving. Her oldest brother, Jack, had just married recently and settled here, too.

“What I’m getting at,” Peter continued, “is that the Fortunes are continuously discussed in Red Rock, and that includes you.”

“Me? I don’t even live here.”

“No, but your name and career are bandied about along with all the other Fortunes. Most people in town know your history.”

“What history would that be?”

“Education history for one thing. I heard with tutors you graduated high school a year early. You also did a four-year college program in three. In med school, you earned respect quickly and began seeing patients in New York City when you joined a prestigious neurological practice there. Your life’s an open book,” he added with some amusement.

An open book? Not by a long shot. No one but her immediate family knew why her parents had hired a private tutor for her and why she’d concentrated so hard on her studies. Not even Ryan and Lily knew what had happened to her as a teenager, the wrong decisions she’d made and the foolish choices.

Rerouting the conversation back to her visit, she nodded to the letter in Peter’s hand. “I’m here because Ryan asked me to speak to you.”

“About?”

“He’s having symptoms.”

“What kind of symptoms?”

She took another paper from her purse, opened it and laid it on his desk. “First of all, I need to tell you that Lily knows nothing about this and that’s the way Ryan wants it. That’s also why he took me aside at Steven and Amy’s wedding to talk to me privately. He’d begun having severe headaches and he didn’t want to consult with a doctor in Red Rock or San Antonio because he’d tried to brush off the pain at first. He also didn’t want any more rumors to get started. There have been enough about him concerning…everything.”

“He’s not still a suspect in the Christopher Jamison murder, is he? The police certainly should have ruled him out by now.”

It sounded as if Peter had no doubts about Ryan’s innocence. “Apparently they haven’t ruled him out. That stress alone could cause headaches. But he told me he’d never had this type of headache before, so I took him seriously.”

“Are you staying at the Double Crown?”

“No, I’m staying with Miles at the Flying Aces while Clyde and my new sister-in-law Jessica are on their honeymoon. Miles insisted I stay there so we can visit. I can’t show too much concern about Ryan because Lily and everyone else will become suspicious.”

Peter took the evaluation form she handed him and looked it over. His expression became more somber as he did. “He’s having some tingling in his arm?”

“Yes.”

“You said he didn’t want to see anyone local. Why come to me when my speciality is pediatric neurosurgery?”

“He trusts you, Dr. Clark. You’ll keep all this confidential, including my involvement. I’ve recommended he have testing done but I’m not licensed to practice in Texas and I don’t have hospital privileges here. You, however, do. Ryan thought if the two of us worked together, we could get to the bottom of whatever is wrong. It would safeguard his privacy.”

After a second look at the report she’d written, Peter’s gaze met hers. “I want to talk to Ryan myself.”

“He’d rather not come here, and he doesn’t want Lily or anyone else in the family to know.”

When Peter rubbed his chin thoughtfully, Violet couldn’t help but notice what a definitive jawline he had, what large strong-looking hands. “All right. I’m glad Ryan believes he can trust me. We can meet at my house. I can examine him and then we can decide what to do next.”

“When are you available?” Violet asked.

“Tonight.”

Obviously Peter Clark didn’t like Ryan’s symptoms any more than she did. “I’ll call Ryan and see if he’s free.”

She took her little blue cell phone from her purse. A few minutes later, after a brief conversation with Ryan in which they all agreed on a time, she closed the phone and dropped it back into her handbag.

“Ryan said to make sure to tell you he’ll pay you double your usual fee because he knows this is an inconvenience.”

“Ryan’s a friend. There won’t be a fee, not for tonight.”

“He won’t like that.”

Peter smiled. “Maybe not, but it will be my only condition for examining him.”

“I can see why he respects you,” she said softly.

Silent communication passed between them and because of their concern for Ryan, a bond was formed. However, that bond seemed to be more personal than professional.

Standing, she met his gaze. “It was good to meet you, Dr. Clark. I don’t want to take up any more of your time.”

“It’s Peter,” he corrected her.

“Peter,” she murmured.

Holding her gaze, he seemed to be waiting for something. Finally, with a wry smile turning up the corners of his lips, he asked, “And should I call you Dr. Fortune or Violet?”

She felt her cheeks turn hot and couldn’t remember the last time she’d blushed. “Violet’s fine,” she decided, feeling much too warm in the small office.

When he rose to his feet and came around the desk, they were standing very close. “Ryan is lucky to have you in the family.”

“He and my dad have always been close. I grew up respecting him, and he’s like a favorite uncle. I don’t want anything to happen to him.”

“This could be serious.”

She already knew that, the possibilities having kept her awake the past few nights. Still, she realized Peter felt he had to put the probability into words, so that she could take it as a warning, so that she wouldn’t deny what might be the cause of Ryan’s problems. “I know this could be serious. But on the other hand, stress and tension could cause symptoms, too.”

“That’s possible. We’ll proceed one step at a time.”

Feeling as if she could stand there all day just looking at Peter, absorbing his strength, his concern and his compassion, she gave herself a mental shake. She didn’t need any of those things from him. Ryan did.

With a deep breath, she stepped away from Peter’s powerful aura and walked toward the door. “You don’t have to see me out. Ryan says he knows where your house is located, so I guess I’ll see you tonight.”

“Tonight,” Peter agreed, his deep voice making the word sound like a commitment.

As Violet escaped into the hall and closed the office door behind her, she knew Dr. Peter Clark’s commitment was to Ryan Fortune.

“That’s the one—number seven-seventeen.” Ryan directed Violet to Peter Clark’s house on the western outskirts of Red Rock.

Developments were springing up randomly in the small community, and it was getting larger. When Violet was growing up and her family visited Ryan and his family on the Double Crown, she loved their little excursions into Red Rock with its rural fields, its round parklike town square with the white gazebo, its ice-cream parlor and family restaurants. Not that Violet had ever wanted to live here. She loved New York City and that was her home.

“I can’t believe all these houses just sprang up over the last year,” Ryan grumbled. “Pretty soon Red Rock’s going to stretch out and meet San Antonio.”

Red Rock was a twenty-mile drive from San Antonio. “I don’t think you have to worry about that quite yet.”

“The garage door’s going up. Peter must have been watching for us.”

Peter Clark’s house was a country-ranch style and angled across the lot in an upside-down open V.

“Looks like a lot of house for a bachelor,” Ryan commented as she pulled into the garage next to an SUV.

A light was on in the garage and Peter stood in the doorway leading into the house. Dressed in khaki slacks and a black polo shirt, he looked taller and more broad-shouldered than he had this afternoon. The sight of him seemed to make Violet’s pulse race faster, but she told herself she was just anxious about Ryan. Deep down, though, she was eager to know more about Peter—too eager. For all she knew, he might be involved with someone. For all she knew, he might have moved into this new house in order to share his life with his significant other.

Sharing her life with someone had never come close to competing with her career.

Her career.

The Washburn case had shaken her confidence more than anything else ever had. She’d taken a cruise to try to gain perspective on what had happened. That hadn’t helped. So since she was coming to Red Rock for her brother’s wedding, she’d cleared her schedule for a few more weeks to try to get her head on straight again.

She didn’t need a sexy neurosurgeon making it spin. In a few weeks she’d be returning to her practice in New York. There was no doubt about that, and no room in her life for an emotional entanglement that would only hurt her when it had to end.

“Are you ready?” she asked Ryan, noticing he hadn’t unfastened his seat belt.

“No, I’m not ready. But let’s get this over with anyway.”

After they exited the car, Peter’s smile was congenial as he held his hand out to Ryan. “It’s good to see you again.”

Dressed in boots, jeans and a green plaid, snap-button shirt, Ryan was solidly built from years of ranch work. He was still darkly handsome at age fifty-nine, deeply tanned from riding and working under the Texas sun. Violet admired his good heart as much as his accomplishments on the Double Crown and at Fortune TX, Ltd., where he acted as an advisor and sat on the board of directors.

The doorway from the garage led past the mudroom into a large living room. Violet noticed an expansive deck that seemed to go on forever outside of the living room’s sliding glass doors.

“Interesting place you’ve got here,” she remarked as they walked into the kitchen and stood peering into the great room with its cathedral ceiling and immense fan.

Sliding glass doors from that room also led out onto the deck, and Violet glimpsed a hot tub. The fireplace in the great room was fashioned of beautiful gray stone. A mission-style sofa and chair were grouped around it, their cushions woven with fabric striped in gray, tan and black. The living room had been equipped with an entertainment center, large TV and contemporary glass tables. In that room, the decor was an extension of the outdoors with earth tones and rustic textures. It still looked a bit empty.

“I really like the design of this house,” she said with admiration.

“It’s different,” Peter agreed. “And it suits me. I’m not here often enough to enjoy it, though. If I don’t soon put something on the walls, my sisters are threatening to do it for me.”

“You come from a large family?” Violet asked.

“Two biological sisters. My parents took in a lot of foster kids, and they feel like brothers and sisters, too.”

Peter’s gaze passed over Violet’s light blue, short-sleeved blouse and indigo jeans. She felt herself get very warm. She’d been tempted to wear something less casual but had told herself what she wore was simply not important.

“Would you like something to drink?” Peter asked.

Ryan shook his head. “I don’t want to tie you up too long.”

“All right. Violet, if you’re interested, help yourself to anything in the refrigerator.” He motioned to a hall that led to the other side of the house. “My study’s down this way. Let’s go in there.”

Then the men disappeared and Violet was left standing in the center of Peter Clark’s house all alone.

She couldn’t help snooping a bit. Well, not snooping, but absorbing Peter’s surroundings.

Her apartment was cluttered with mementoes from her childhood—presents her brothers and her parents had given her and selected items that simply carried memories. Now as she wandered toward a pine cabinet with glass doors, she peeked through the glass. There was a picture in a silver frame of a woman dressed in bell-bottomed slacks standing with a man who looked very much like Peter. Beside it stood three leather-bound books that were classics, a photograph of the same woman, older now, standing with five children. On another shelf, Violet spotted a duck decoy carved from wood and intricately painted, a Kachina and a wicker basket filled with seashells. There were several arrowheads and a picture of two young women. Peter’s sisters?

Glancing toward the study, she realized she was taking inventory to keep her mind off what was happening in there. Would Peter’s findings be different from hers?

A half hour later, Violet was staring out into Peter’s backyard unseeingly when Ryan and the neurosurgeon emerged from the study.

Ryan raked his hand through his hair. “He made me do all the same things you did and asked a heck of a lot of questions.”

“I think Ryan needs an MRI,” Peter advised calmly. “I’ll call a colleague of mine in Houston, where I did my residency, and see if he can set it up there.”

“But you’ll be my doctor?” Ryan asked hopefully.

“My speciality is children, Ryan, but let’s not jump ahead of ourselves. We’ll do the test and then go from there.”

“You’re right. That sounds reasonable.” He looked from Peter to Violet. “I know you two probably want to talk about me. I’ll just go on outside and take a look around.”

As if knowing neither of them would argue with him, he unlatched the sliding glass doors and stepped outside.

After Ryan had closed the door and walked farther out onto the deck, Violet asked, “Do you think his condition is serious?”

“At this stage, there’s no way of knowing. The MRI will tell us what comes next.”

“Is there any reason why Ryan shouldn’t drive? I convinced him to let me bring him tonight, but he’s not the type of man who likes to be chauffeured.”

“I asked him about blackouts and he said he hasn’t had any. He insists he hasn’t been dizzy, either. So until something other than the headaches develop, I can’t tell him he shouldn’t drive.”

When Violet thought about the possibilities of what could be wrong with Ryan, she felt her chin quiver. Suddenly the idea of losing Ryan was much too real.

Coming closer, Peter studied her for a long moment. “What?”

Feeling embarrassed, she shook her head. “He’s…he’s more than a patient to me.”

A tear escaped the corner of her eye and rolled down her cheek, and she quickly swiped at it.

Reaching out, Peter clasped her shoulder. “Don’t borrow trouble.”

“I can’t help but worry. It hasn’t been that long since he and Lily found each other again. They’re so happy.”

“Yes, they are. But whether this is stress or something more serious, I know she’ll support him just as you will…just as I will.”

Peter’s hand on her shoulder was comforting. It was as if she could feel his strength seeping into her. “You’d never know I deal with life and death and grim diagnoses all the time.”

“Grim diagnoses?”

“There just seems to have been a lot of them lately. Before I left New York there were two young women with MS, and a pregnant mother who died—”

She stopped abruptly, not knowing what she was doing. She didn’t unload. That simply wasn’t her nature. She handled what came her way without leaning on anyone.

“What else?” he asked, his green eyes kind.

“Nothing, really. I don’t know what’s gotten into me. All I’m doing is riding, catching up on medical journals and visiting with my brother Miles. You’d think I’d be as happy as the proverbial lark.”

“Anyone can get burned out.”

“Do you?” she asked.

With a wry smile and a half shrug, he answered, “Not yet.” Then he became more serious. “But it can sneak up on you.”

Gazing into Peter’s eyes, Violet couldn’t seem to look away. His hand was still resting comfortingly on her shoulder, but the comfort was becoming an awareness that easily could turn into something else.

Self-consciously, she motioned toward the deck. “I’d better tell Ryan I’m ready to go or he’ll think we’re keeping something from him.”

Dropping his hand to his side, Peter agreed. “Yes, he probably will. I’ll call you tomorrow as soon as I talk to my friend in Houston.”

“I’m staying in the pool house at the Flying Aces. It doesn’t have a phone, but I can give you my cell phone number.”

She took a card from her purse and handed it to him. “I’ve written the number on there.”

When he took the card from her, his fingers grazed hers.

Her gaze lifted to his strong profile.

She was acting like a schoolgirl with a crush and that had to stop. Going to the glass doors, she opened them. Ryan hadn’t told Lily where he was actually going tonight. In fact, he’d lied to her. He’d told her he was taking Violet to see a horse he was thinking about buying. On their drive home, she was going to convince him to tell his wife what was actually going on.

That way Violet wouldn’t think about Peter Clark. That way she could ignore all the sensations she’d always wanted to feel but had never felt before.

She didn’t need a man in her life. She did not.

Two

Violet drove up to the main house on the Double Crown Ranch the following morning, parking in front of a garden where sage plants and ornamental grasses grew. She was worried. By nature, she hated lying, even by omission. Yet she owed Ryan confidentiality and couldn’t tell Lily where the two of them had been last night. She wished Ryan would tell his wife about his symptoms and that Peter was going to have an MRI arranged.

Peter.

Shaking her head, as if that could rid her thoughts of the neurosurgeon, Violet walked through the arched entryway and opened the wrought-iron gate. A curved stone walkway led through the outer courtyard where native plants and rocks were arranged in a miniature arroyo. Flowering vines perfumed the area as she mounted the steps that led to a wide wooden door in the covered entryway.

At her knock, Rosita Perez opened the door. Pleasantly plump, dressed in a peasant blouse and a long gauzy skirt, she patted her bun as if to make certain it was still there, then smiled.

“You’re right on time. Lanie Meyers isn’t here yet. Traffic from Austin could be keeping her. But Mr. Ryan and Lily are waiting in the inner courtyard. Come on and I’ll get you a cup of coffee.”

This brunch had been planned since last week. Next month the governor would be honoring Ryan with his presence at Steven’s new ranch. The gala was already being organized. The governor’s daughter, Lanie, acting as an emissary for her father, would be coming to brunch to tell Ryan and Lily how glad she was that Ryan was being honored with the Hensley-Robinson Award. It was a preliminary meeting to fill in the Fortunes on some of the arrangements, and Lily had invited Violet to join them.

The foyer of Ryan’s ranch house opened up into a great room with a high, beamed ceiling.

As Rosita showed her through the room, Violet asked, “How’s Savannah?” Savannah was married to Cruz Perez, Rosita’s son. The couple had a five-year-old and were expecting another child soon.

Rosita smiled. “She’s doing well now after that premature labor scare. She just has to take it easy, and Cruz is making sure she does that. I help out with Luke whenever I can.”

“Tell her I hope to see her soon and that I wish her and Cruz well.”

Giving Violet’s hand a little squeeze, Rosita nodded, then opened one of the wood-framed glass doors that led into the inner courtyard. Violet loved the area where a fountain bubbled and an old-fashioned swing stood under a vine-covered arbor. Descending the few steps, she headed toward one of the glass-topped tables.

Right away she could feel the tension. Whatever Ryan and Lily had been discussing had put a frown on Lily’s face. Had he told his wife he was at Peter Clark’s last night?

However, Violet soon knew that wasn’t the case because Ryan gave her a barely perceptible shake of his head.

Spotting Violet, Lily quickly replaced her frown with a smile. At fifty-nine, she was still beautiful. Her Apache and Spanish heritage had given her high cheekbones and large dark eyes framed by thick lashes. She had a wonderful figure and wore her hair in a shiny bob a little longer than Violet’s own hair. She was wearing white slacks today with a colorful striped sweater.

“I’m so glad you could join us this morning.” She gave Violet a hug, which Violet affectionately returned. Always comfortable with Lily, she could usually talk to her easily. That was why it would be so hard to hide anything from her.

Ryan gave Violet a hug, too, as Lily asked, “So how did you like that horse Ryan took you to see last night? He tells me it’s a Morgan, brown with a white blaze.”

Violet’s thoughts seemed jumbled as she tried to come up with an appropriate response. Fortunately, just then, the chime of the doorbell could be heard in the courtyard.

As Rosita hurried away, Lily poured a cup of coffee for Violet from a silver serving set. “That should be the governor’s daughter.” Forgetting the horse her husband had mentioned, Lily motioned to the coffee. “You take it black with sugar, right?”

“Sure do. Coffee in the lounge at the hospital is usually strong and stale. The sugar helps. I’ve gotten used to it that way.”

Lily motioned Violet to a seat and placed the cup of coffee there. “We are definitely creatures of habit, maybe too much so.” Her gaze shot to Ryan.

His mouth tightened and some unspoken message seemed to pass between them.

Hearing footsteps, Violet turned and saw Lanie Myers coming down the steps. She was a beauty and, from what Lily had told her, often in the society pages with her blond hair, blue eyes and voluptuous figure. She had a reputation for being a bit wild, at least that was what the gossip columnists said.

After greetings all around, Lanie joined them at the table.

Ryan asked good naturedly, “How’s your father’s reelection campaign going?”

“It’s going,” she observed in a wry tone that made everyone laugh. “Well, it is,” she added with a little shrug. “I don’t know how he does it, shaking all those hands, trying to please so many people. I just got back from a shopping trip in L.A., so I escaped the fray for a while.”

When Violet gave the former debutante an appraisal, she noted Lanie’s cream halter dress shouted designer label all the way. “Do you ever fly to New York to shop?”

Lanie took a few sips of the orange juice Rosita had placed before her. “I love New York—not only the shopping, but the shows. I try to get there a few times a year. Lily told me you live there. It must be wonderful to have access to the theater district, the symphony and ballet all the time.”

“It is, and I should take advantage of it more. But I don’t.”

“Violet’s a neurologist,” Lily interjected. “When she’s not tied up with patients, she’s writing articles. She also sits on the board for a battered women’s shelter.”

“You have a terrifically serious life,” Lanie mused. “No wonder you don’t have much time for the theater.”

“Violet’s mother, Lacey, has been fighting for worthwhile causes since she was a young woman,” Lily explained. “That couldn’t help but rub off on Violet.”

Lily was right about that, Violet thought. Her mother was still fighting for causes she believed in. When she was growing up, Violet had mistakenly believed that her mom’s causes were more important than her family. But she’d been wrong about that. It had taken a crisis to prove to her that both of her parents as well as her brothers valued her more than anything else in their lives. Her experience at fifteen might have made her reticent to become involved in intimate relationships, but it had also made her realize she truly wasn’t alone.

Deflecting conversation from her life, Violet said, “We’re so excited Ryan’s getting the Hensley-Robinson Award. My brother can’t wait to host the party.”

“He recently married, didn’t he? My mother mentioned that.”

“Yes, a few days ago.”

Although Ryan had been fairly quiet up until this point, now he added, “Violet has another brother who got married the same day. When will Jessica and Clyde be back from their honeymoon?”

“Next week some time. The woman my brother Clyde married was a friend of mine. I can’t wait until she gets back so we can really visit.”

“After the experience she had, she and Clyde deserve a long honeymoon.” Lily went on to explain to Lanie how Jessica had been stalked and how Clyde had apprehended the man.

As Rosita served brunch, the conversation flowed easily. Lanie filled them in on details of the gala her father would be attending and the security measures that would be taken.

They’d finished the fruit tart and were enjoying more coffee when Rosita appeared in the courtyard again and stood beside Ryan. “Chuck called from the barn. He said that horse you’re going to gentle just rolled in.”

Ryan looked torn as if he wanted to go down to the barn, yet knew he should stay because of Lanie.

Obviously sensing his predicament, she smiled. “Mr. Fortune, if you need to leave, that’s fine. I have to be going myself. I have an appointment back in Austin this afternoon.”

As she rose, so did Ryan. “Are you sure you have to leave so soon? My foreman can unload the horse.”

“Really, I must be going,” Lanie said. “It was nice to meet you, Violet.”

After goodbyes all around, Ryan said, “I’ll walk you out.” Then he gave Lily a quick kiss and escorted the governor’s daughter through the great room. After Rosita cleared the table except for the coffee, she took the tray of dishes to the kitchen.

Lily gave Violet a weak smile that told Violet brunch had been an effort. “That young woman doesn’t seem to have a path to her life,” Lily commented.

“Maybe some women don’t need one.”

“I found my path when I married Ryan.” That troubled look came over Lily’s face again. “But I wouldn’t change one curve or twist in the path. Sometimes I wonder if Ryan would, though.”

“I don’t understand.”

“I’m worried about him. He had a call from the police again this morning. They want him to come in for more questions. I wish they’d understand he didn’t even know Christopher Jamison. Why can’t they see he’d never hurt anyone?”

That was the question of a loyal wife, but Violet knew the authorities had their own agenda. The link between the Fortunes and Jamisons hadn’t been made public, but there was one. She just hoped that the authorities would soon find the murderer of Christopher Jamison and that Ryan would be cleared.

“The two of you usually draw together when there’s a crisis,” Violet reminded Lily.

“Up until now. But Ryan’s so unpredictable sometimes. For the past few months he leaves and doesn’t tell me where he’s going. I’m beginning to wonder—”

Her voice caught and Violet could see tears well up in Lily’s eyes. One thing she was sure of—Ryan Fortune adored his wife and would never be unfaithful to her.

“Maybe he doesn’t tell you because he doesn’t know where he’s going to go. Maybe he just needs time alone to decompress. Have you talked to him about it?”

“Yes, but he just gives me flimsy excuses.”

“Maybe they seem flimsy because he’s not hiding anything.”

“I hope that’s true,” Lily said fervently.

Since Ryan was hiding his symptoms from his wife, that was why Lily suspected he wasn’t being truthful. Maybe soon that would change. After the MRI, she hoped Ryan would tell Lily about his headaches and they could get their marriage back on a strong footing again. They might need to for whatever came next.

When Jason Jamison opened the door to his “mansion,” he considered why he’d bought it when he moved to San Antonio. It was befitting the station in life he intended to rise to. The second reason, just as important, was that Melissa had liked it. She might have been a cocktail waitress, but she had damn good taste.

Noticing the security alarm was off, he realized she must be at home. It was early for him to get home, not even six-thirty. He made a point of working late at Fortune TX, Ltd. so he looked like a go-getter, so he caught Ryan Fortune’s attention, so he could put everything into the plan that was coming to fruition.

When he heard the upstairs shower running, he dropped his briefcase in the marble-floored foyer and hurried up the wide sweeping staircase. His footsteps were muffled by the plush carpeting, and he liked the idea of surprising Melissa. He didn’t like surprises but he liked taking others off guard. He especially looked forward to surprising Ryan Fortune.

He was working on a plan to bring down Ryan and get the revenge his grandfather had always wanted. His grandpa Farley was the only one who had understood him and paid attention to him. During his visits to Farley Jamison’s cabin, Jason had been a rapt listener when his grandfather related tales of Iowan politics. Farley’s own children and wife had abandoned him. Although they were connected by blood, Kingston Fortune hadn’t wanted anything to do with him, either. Someone had to carry on his grandfather’s legacy. Farley had always believed it was because of the Fortunes that he was living his life in a beat-up shack, and he’d convinced Jason to believe it, too.

But Jason had to figure the best way to get what he wanted. With a new face, he was unrecognizable to relatives. Creating a different identity and going under the name of Jason Wilkes, he could accomplish anything.

As he walked down the hall, he took off his suit jacket and loosened his tie. One of his teachers in high school had called him a sociopath. If stabbing a friend and lying to get what he wanted made him that, he didn’t mind the label. His conscience didn’t bother him one whit that he’d killed Christopher. They’d always been like Cain and Abel, the angel and the devil. So much for angels, he thought, as he remembered dumping his brother’s body into Lake Mondo.

After he stepped into the luxuriously furnished bedroom, Jason tossed his tie and suitcoat over a fuchsia chair, hurriedly unbuttoned his shirt and threw that to the pile, too. He couldn’t wait to get his hands on Melissa. He couldn’t wait to feel her hands on him. She knew how to do things—

Flipping off his Italian loafers, ridding himself of his socks, he unbuckled his belt as he went through the dressing room into the bathroom. There was a sunken tub, but his gaze went straight to the shower where he could see the shadow of Melissa’s body behind the frosted glass door.

Before he could open it, she turned off the water and stepped out.

“Jason!” she yelped.

“That’s me,” he said with a smile that was supposed to convey his intentions.

It must have done just that because she shook her head, her bleached blond hair falling in wet tendrils across her shoulders. She hadn’t dried off and she looked sleek and more than ready for what he had in mind.

However, she nipped his desire before he could act on it. “I can’t. Not now. I’m already running late. I have a meeting at seven-thirty.”

“What meeting?” he demanded to know.

“A group of us is getting together to plan a clothing drive for the teen shelter at Christmas.”

“All this charity work you’re doing is getting tedious, and I’m beginning to wonder why you’re doing it.”

Still dripping wet, Melissa came very close to Jason. “Aren’t we pretending to be an up-and-coming married couple?”

“Yes, but—”

She put a slim finger on his chin and studied him with her brown eyes. “No buts. Just as you’re setting up Ryan to take the fall for mistakes in his company, I’m planting a few seeds of my own.”

“And they are?”

“You’ll see.” With the same finger that had played on his chin, she traced his right cheekbone. “How is your project coming?”

“It’s moving along. Fortune TX, Ltd. is spending money on a phony oil deal and Ryan’s fingerprints are going to be all over it.”

“Do you really think they’ll kick Ryan off the board of directors?”

“That’s what I’m hoping.”

Gazing into Melissa’s eyes, Jason saw a flicker of something. What was it? Was she planning something on her own? How would that affect him?

Melissa never let him get too close or see too far inside. Now her hand settled on his chest then slipped lower, over his navel and inside the waistband of his trousers. “Maybe I do have ten minutes,” she murmured with a wide-eyed, sultry look that aroused him to a painful level.

Taking the foreplay out of her hands, he scooped her into his arms. She was wet and wild and hot.

“Ten minutes,” she warned him as he carried her into the bedroom.

He dropped her on the bed, let his trousers fall, pushed down his briefs and stretched out on top of her.

“It’ll take what it’s going to take, and your meeting be damned.”

When he saw the look of triumph in her eyes, he knew this was what she’d wanted all along. As she opened her legs to him and kissed him like there was no tomorrow, he had to wonder who really had the power here.

He was going to get it back…one way or another.

It was almost 4:00 p.m. on Tuesday when Peter finally got the chance to call Violet Fortune. Still in his scrubs, he used the phone in the doctor’s lounge. As her cell phone rang, he didn’t have to use many memory cells to conjure up her face. He’d been thinking about her too damn much since she’d left last night, and he didn’t like the invasion into his usually ordered thoughts.

There were several reasons why she should be off-limits for him. Number one—he no longer dated women whose career demands consumed their lives. He’d gone that route once before, and once in a lifetime down that particular road was enough. Number two—not only did Violet Fortune have a demanding career, but the career was in New York. In a few weeks, she’d return to New York City and pick up her life where she’d left it. Long-distance relationships didn’t work. His life, family and future were here in Red Rock. Number three—Violet Fortune rocked his world a little too much. He liked to be in control. Last night, being around her had thrown him off balance. It was an odd feeling that hadn’t happened to him before, not even with his ex-fiancée Sandra.

“Hello,” came a breathless voice after the fourth ring.

“Violet? It’s Peter Clark.”

“Oh, Peter. Hi.”

He heard the rustle of bags. “Did I catch you at a bad time?”

“No, this is fine. I was just setting down the groceries. I stopped at the store on the way back from the Double Crown.”

“You saw Ryan today?”

“Yes. I had brunch with him and Lily and the governor’s daughter. But we didn’t have a chance to talk. Lily’s so worried about him. She sees the stress he’s under. She and I went riding this afternoon and I’m afraid she’s imagining all kinds of things.”

“Hopefully, soon we can put both of their minds to rest. My colleague in Houston has made arrangements for Ryan’s MRI on Saturday. We have to be there by ten. Since our appointment with him for the results is later in the day, I’m wondering if we should stay in Houston overnight. Ryan might be tired. Can you talk to him about it and see how he feels? I can clear my schedule to drive back Sunday morning. One of my partners can cover for me.”

“With no questions asked?”

“With no questions asked.”

A multitude of questions raced through his head concerning Violet. He wondered what her life had been like growing up with Lacey and Patrick Fortune and four brothers. As the only daughter, had she been a tomboy? Somehow he doubted that.

“I’ll talk to Ryan,” Violet assured him. “He mentioned that he and Lily will be attending a fund-raiser for San Juan Hospital at the Madison Hotel on Friday night. He told me the money would be used for high-tech equipment in the pediatrics wing that’s a memorial to your mother.”

“Ryan and Lily have always been supportive of fund-raising attempts for the pediatrics wing. Lily was instrumental in helping me launch the first fund drive.”

Despite the good cause, this was one event Peter didn’t want to be reminded of, thanks to his sisters and that god-awful bachelor auction. In spite of himself, he couldn’t help asking, “Will you be attending the fund-raiser with them?”

“I’m thinking about it. My brother Miles is one of the bachelors being auctioned off.”

“I wonder who bribed him,” Peter grumbled.

“Uh-oh,” she said with a laugh. “Does that mean somebody bribed you?”

“No, with me it was blackmail. My sisters warned me that if I didn’t volunteer, they’d list my name in the personal ads on the Internet.”

When Violet began laughing again, he liked the sound of it. He didn’t feel at all as if she were laughing at him, but rather laughing with him.

Finally, she said, “Thank you, Peter. That felt good. I haven’t had much to smile about lately.”

“Because you’re worried about Ryan?”

“Yes.” She paused then went on, “I came to Red Rock to get away from my practice for a little while.”

“That burnout we discussed?”

There was more silence and he suddenly wondered if she’d confided in anyone about her real reasons for coming to Red Rock. Irrationally, he wanted her to confide in him.

“Yes.”

When she didn’t go on, he said, “Burnout happens.”

“I guess it does, but this time when I lost a patient, not only her husband questioned my judgment. I did, too.”

“You’re a perfectionist,” he said kindly, without criticism.

“Aren’t you?” she shot back. “Don’t we have to be?”

The first day they’d talked, he’d felt a bond with Violet because of Ryan. Now he realized they had another bond, too—their work. “We have to use our skill the best way we know how. We can be perfectionists but we’re not God.”

When she took a deep breath, he heard it. As doctors, they had power, but sometimes they didn’t realize their power was finite.

“You’re right, of course,” she murmured. “And usually I take what happens in stride. For the past couple of months I haven’t been able to do that. I took a cruise to get some perspective.”

“Did it help?”

“It was a distraction but no, it didn’t help.”

“Maybe once we know what’s going on with Ryan you’ll find perspective again.”

“Maybe.” She sounded doubtful.

Peter’s pager beeped. “I’m being paged,” he said to Violet. “Hold on a minute.”

Seeing the extension number, he knew he had to go. “I have to check on a patient, Violet.”

“I know the sound of a pager when I hear it,” she assured him with complete understanding. “I’ll talk to Ryan and one of us will be in contact with you.”

In spite of the conversation they’d just had, Peter hoped that person would be Ryan. Violet Fortune was simply too interesting, too intriguing and too beautiful for his peace of mind.

However, when he said goodbye, he wondered if she would be at the bachelor auction Friday night.

Whether she was or wasn’t didn’t matter. He was going to sleepwalk through it, get it over with and take whoever bought him to the Riverwalk the following weekend. That would be his contribution to charity.

Giving up fistfuls of money would be a hell of a lot easier.

As Peter headed to the third floor to answer his page, he couldn’t sweep Violet from his thoughts. At least not until he stopped at the nurses’ desk in Pediatric ICU, learned which patient needed him and went down the hall to Celeste Bowlan’s room. The six-year-old was crying and nothing the nurses tried could console her. For whatever reason, Peter’s presence always seemed to calm her. He strode toward her bed now, his heart going out to the little orphan with the straggly straight black hair, bangs and huge dark eyes.

“Hey there,” he said softly. “Nurse Carmelita told me you’re having a bad day.”

When Celeste turned her tearstained face to his, he saw her desolation and sorrow. Over a year ago she’d been staying with a babysitter when her parents, who had gone out for the evening, had been involved in a three-car pileup. They’d both died on impact.

Celeste had been entered into the system and placed with a foster family. But her foster family hadn’t cherished her as her parents had. Apparently her foster father had been a closet alcoholic who’d been driving drunk with Celeste in the car. They’d been in an accident, and Celeste’s back had been fractured. Along with spinal injuries, a lung had collapsed, and she’d experienced belly trauma. Peter was going to operate to fuse her spine, but he had to wait until she was more stable.

The social worker on Celeste’s case had told him she wouldn’t be going back to that foster family, but another hadn’t been found yet. Unable to walk and absolutely alone in the world, she was desolate with good reason. He tried to visit her as often as he could.

Pulling up a chair beside her bed, he brushed a few tears from her cheek. “Come on now. Let’s see if you can stop crying so we can talk.”

Sedated and on pain meds, Celeste was groggy. Slowly she complained, “You didn’t come in all day.”

He felt a stab of guilt, but he really hadn’t had a spare moment.

“I know, but I had patients to see. They need help just as you do. I was going to come in tonight, though. I promised, remember? You said you’d pick out two books and I was going to read both of them to you.”

“Will you still come tonight?”

He had to smile. If Celeste could get two visits out of this, she was going to do that.

“Sure, I’ll come back later.” He heard the med cart being pushed by a nurse rattle across the tile in the hall. “First I just have to grab something to eat and make some phone calls.”

Her face fell and he saw tears well up again.

“On the other hand, I could buy a sandwich from the vending machine and eat it here,” he said. “Then you can tell me what videos you watched today.”

The room had a VCR, and Peter could see from the stack on the table that the nurses had picked out quite a few for Celeste. “I’ll be back as soon as I find some food.”

“Promise?” she asked.

He held up his hand like a Boy Scout. “I promise.”

All at once his conversation with Violet came to mind, and he remembered what she’d told him about being burnt out. Maybe she would consider spending some time with Celeste. A woman with time on her hands might be just what the little girl needed. He’d broach that subject when they took Ryan for his tests or if she came to the fund-raiser Friday evening.

Insisting to himself again that he didn’t care if she came or not, he went on a search for supper.

Three

The hotel ballroom was sumptuously elegant. Guests sat on champagne-colored brocade chairs at tables covered with pale rose tablecloths. Candles at each table as well as the overhead crystal chandeliers sent sparkles of light dancing off reflective surfaces.

Violet was seated with Lily and Ryan, her brother Miles and some friends of his. Often Violet’s gaze went to Ryan. He was looking worn and tired tonight, and she was concerned because his headaches might be getting worse. She was glad Peter had been able to arrange the MRI for tomorrow morning. Ryan had told Lily he was taking a trip to Houston for business. After he’d given her the name of the hotel where they’d be staying, she’d accepted the explanation. But Violet could see the tension the lies were causing.

A chamber group had been playing softly throughout dinner and now they quieted at the bustling activity on the stage. A woman tapped on the microphone a few times, smiled at the audience and said, “I want to welcome everyone to the Estelle Clark Memorial Fund-Raiser.”

The woman at the mike looked about Violet’s age. There was something about her that seemed familiar. She was a tall, striking brunette who had a beautiful sense of fashion. Her emerald chiffon gown flowed around her body as if it had been designed especially for her.

Lily leaned close to Violet. “Stacey owns a boutique in the Galleria. I shop there a lot. Besides that, she’s—”

Stacey was speaking again and Lily’s words were drowned out. “As many of you know, it’s an honor for me to be here, happy to raise money to buy equipment for my mother’s memorial wing.”

Suddenly it all clicked into place for Violet, why she thought the woman looked familiar. She was Estelle Clark’s daughter and Peter’s sister. Although Violet had been preoccupied with other thoughts, she’d gotten a quick glimpse of her and another woman as they’d left Peter’s office. That must have been his other sister. At Peter’s house she’d seen a picture of them in the pine cupboard, but they’d been much younger and Violet hadn’t made the connection.

Stacey continued, “And now, so I won’t bore you, I’ll get to the highlight of this evening—our very eligible bachelors. Mr. Kinsdale, come on up on stage.”

A tall, blond man in his thirties climbed the steps and came to stand near the microphone. When he smiled, Stacey motioned him to walk to the end of the short runway.

“Let them get a gander at you. Mr. Kinsdale’s lucky benefactor will win a day of golf at his country club along with dinner overlooking the eighteenth hole. Let’s start the bidding at one hundred dollars.”

The bids came fast and furious. Women at two particular tables were doing much of the bidding.

“They’re nurses,” Lily explained with a smile. “I understand most of them have saved up all year for this donation.”

The bidding ended at two thousand dollars.

“You should bid,” Lily urged Violet as one gentleman after another walked to the edge of the runway.

“I’m not sure that’s the best way to get a date,” Violet joked. “I think I’d rather just write a check for the equipment—”

However, when she saw Peter Clark step up onto the stage, she stopped midsentence. He was a sight in a tuxedo. Although he looked totally debonair, he also looked uncomfortable.

Stacey Clark’s voice took on a teasing liveliness as she gave her brother a quick appraisal. “Here we go, ladies. I have the fun of putting my brother on display tonight. I had to talk long and hard to get him to do this so don’t disappoint me. I want this bid to go sky-high.”

Lowering her voice, she said conspiratorially into the microphone, “He has a big ego. We wouldn’t want it to get dented, would we? Come on, ladies. For a date at the Riverwalk with Dr. Peter Clark, let’s start this bidding at two hundred dollars.”

Peter’s stride was confident though a bit stiff as he walked to the end of the runway, and Violet suspected that he hated being put on display. He must truly love his sister to do this for her. Violet had to admire his attempt at a winning smile, the thumbs-up sign he gave the audience that told them he was doing this in the spirit of fun.

The nurses started the bidding again but this time Violet couldn’t keep quiet. Her hand shot up with the number she’d been assigned in case she wanted to bid, and she called out, “Five hundred.”

Lily’s elbow nudged hers. “Way to go.”

Feeling her cheeks flush, she felt deflated when the bids kept rising above hers. Not knowing whether it was the competition urging her on or the desire to spend an evening at the Riverwalk with Peter, she helped push the price upward. Before she knew it, the bidding was up to twenty-five hundred dollars. One of the nurses, a petite blonde, wouldn’t give up. Neither would Violet. They went back and forth in increments of fifty dollars until they hit three thousand.

“Well, well, ladies. It looks as if you’d like to give Peter a night to remember.”

Violet didn’t dare look at him, but she raised her bid and did it big. “Thirty-five hundred dollars,” she called and the room went silent.

The nurse at the other table shook her head.

Stacey’s face broke into a wide grin as she announced, “Number twenty-four has just won the honor of listening to my brother discuss medicine for an evening. Peter, make sure she has a little bit of fun, okay?”

Shaking his head with the tolerance of an older brother, he gave his sister a hug and descended the steps on the far side of the stage.

Violet wasn’t sure exactly what to do.

“So go talk to him,” Lily said with another nudge.

At least now she wouldn’t have to pretend she and Peter were strangers. Maybe she could use that as an excuse for why she’d bid so enthusiastically.

Then she asked herself, Why do you need an excuse?

An inner voice whispered, Because you don’t want him to know you’re attracted to him.

Although her coral beaded gown had one very long slit from her thigh down to the hem, she didn’t feel ladylike taking long strides. Warning herself not to hurry, to pretend a nonchalance she didn’t feel, she found Peter at the rear of the stage talking to a woman she now recognized as Linda Clark.

When Peter’s gaze fell on Violet, he took a good long look from her upswept hairdo to the pearls around her neck to the formfitting gown. The light that came into his eyes excited her, and she told herself to chill. Her work had always mattered more than relationships. Deep down, she knew she used work as an excuse to protect her heart, especially now when her life was in transition and she had to make some tough choices. Her stay in Red Rock was temporary and a short fling wasn’t on her agenda. Despite all that, her pulse raced and excitement tingled up and down her spine as she moved closer to Peter.

“The woman who finally ended my misery,” he said lightly. “Linda, meet Violet Fortune. Violet, this is my sister, Linda Clark.”

Peter’s sister was gracious and friendly as she shook Violet’s hand and smiled. “You two should have a wonderful time on the Riverwalk.” She waved to someone behind Violet. “If you’ll excuse me, I have to be in ten places at once tonight. It was nice to meet you, Violet.” She gave her brother a pat on the arm. “Don’t be a stranger. Remember, Charlene and Dad’s anniversary party next Sunday evening.”

In the space of a second, Violet saw consternation slip over Peter’s face, but then it was gone and she wondered if she’d seen it at all. Didn’t he want to go to his dad’s anniversary party?

They were standing in a room with about three hundred people, yet when she looked into Peter’s eyes it was as if they were stranded on a desert island all alone. That idea was fanciful and she had to put a stop to the thought now. “I bid on you to give a donation to a good cause and so you and I didn’t have to pretend we were strangers around Ryan and Lily. I’ll understand if you really don’t want to go on a date.”

“A date was part of the bargain,” he said seriously. “I haven’t been to the Riverwalk for a while, but if you really don’t want to go—”

“I’d like to go,” she hurried to say. “I just wanted to let you off the hook. It would almost be like a blind date.”

“I’m not blind, Violet.” His gaze as it passed over her made her stomach flip-flop, and she didn’t know what to say to that.

“Do you plan to stick around here much longer?” he asked.

“I don’t know. I have to pay for my bid.”

“I’d like you to meet one of my patients. Would you come with me to San Juan Hospital?”

“Now?”

“Yep, right now.”

She waved to her gown. “Dressed like this?”

“Believe me, no one’s going to care.”

He intrigued her with his request. “All right. I’ll pay for you.” She abruptly stopped. “I mean for our date…then I’ll meet you in the lobby.”

“I’ll go with you. I want to give a donation of my own.”

Then his hand was at her elbow and he was guiding her through the people and the tables.

Violet wasn’t used to any man besides her father and brothers being protective of her, but as Peter’s fingers scorched her skin, she glanced up at him, tall and strong and broad-shouldered. She felt a quickening inside she’d never felt before. What was wrong with her?

They had to wait in line at the table set up near the doors where other women were also paying for their bids.

“Did your sisters help organize this?” she asked.

“They certainly did. They’ve been very involved with the pediatrics wing ever since it was built.”

“They did a wonderful job. Is your father here?”

“No,” Peter said tersely. Then when he realized that had sounded sharp, he offered, “After my mother died, my father went on with his life.”

“That’s a good thing, right?” Violet prompted, hoping Peter would reveal more.

“That depends on how you look at it. He remarried less than a year after my mother died.”

“How old were you?”

“I was thirteen, Stacey was eleven, and Linda was nine.”

“I’m sorry, Peter. I can’t imagine losing a parent at my age now, let alone when I was that young.”

The line had dwindled away and now the woman at the table collecting checks looked up expectantly at Violet.

Peter took his checkbook from an inside jacket pocket and she knew the conversation was closed. Maybe that was best. She and the doctor were colleagues in Ryan’s care and she should keep it at that.

A few minutes later they were walking through the lobby of the hotel when Peter commented, “I only caught a few glimpses of Ryan, but he looked tired tonight. Are his symptoms becoming any more pronounced?”

“Not that I’ve noticed, but he’s used to hiding them from Lily.”

“What did he tell her about staying in Houston overnight?”

“She thinks he’s having dinner with business associates and then a late meeting.”

The doorman held the door for them as they stepped into the night. Peter gestured to the parking area at the side of the hotel and removed a remote control from his trouser pocket. When a black SUV beeped, Violet knew which vehicle was his. She remembered seeing it in his garage the other night. To her surprise and pleasure, he opened the door for her. As she climbed in, the slit on her dress opened wide.

“So those things have a practical purpose,” he noted in a wry tone.

The panel of the dress had slipped to the side, giving him a good look at her thigh and leg. She’d worn a dress like this before. She’d felt men’s gazes on her before. But right now with Peter’s eyes lighting with male appreciation, she felt self-conscious. Lifting the beaded material, she covered her leg on the pretense that she was protecting the fabric from the door. After Peter made sure she was safely tucked inside, he closed it.

Moments later her perfume mingled with the scent of his cologne in the car. Violet couldn’t help but watch Peter’s hand as he turned the key in the ignition then backed out of the parking space and drove through the parking lot. His hands were large, his fingers were long, and she could imagine his expertise in surgery. Unfortunately, she could imagine a lot more. How long had it been since a man had touched her…really touched her?

“Ever been to San Juan Hospital?” he asked.

“I was in the E.R. a few years ago when Miles had a run-in with barbed wire and needed stitches.”

“Ouch.”

Violet smiled. “That’s not exactly what he said.”

At Peter’s chuckle, she asked, “Do you know my brothers?”

“I met Steven at one of Ryan and Lily’s New Year’s Eve parties. Your other brothers in passing.”

“Were you at Steven and Amy’s wedding?” Her brother had found the love of his life. When they had gotten married about a week ago, she hadn’t seen Peter among the guests.

“I had just arrived when I got a call from the hospital. I had to leave before the wedding even got started. I heard your brother Clyde got married, too.”

“Yep, he sure did. They’ll be back from their honeymoon next week. Steven and Amy only took a few days because they want to get his new ranch in order for the party honoring Ryan.”

“I heard he’s receiving the Hensley-Robinson Award. He deserves it.”

Peter turned into the hospital’s parking lot. Instead of heading for the parking garage, he veered toward the side of the building where signs marked the slots for physicians.

A few minutes later a security guard at the sliding glass doors nodded at Peter and gave Violet an interested glance. Her long gown obviously wasn’t a usual sight at the hospital. As Peter guided Violet through the deserted lobby, he nodded to an older woman sitting at the information desk.

“Good evening, Myra.”

“Good evening yourself, Dr. Clark. Spiffy getup. I’m glad to see you’ve been somewhere other than this hospital. He works too many hours,” she confided to Violet as if she’d known her all her life.

“I hear doctors have that problem,” Violet responded with a straight face.

“See you later, Myra,” Peter said with a wave as he cupped Violet’s elbow and guided her toward the elevators.

His touch sent electricity up her arm, and she wondered what he looked like under that tuxedo. When her cheeks grew hot, she banished the thought. She didn’t know what had gotten into her since she’d met Peter Clark, but she didn’t like it. Since she was a teenager, her head had ruled her life, not hormones, not her heart, not any other part of her. That wasn’t going to change now.

When the elevator doors swished open, they stepped inside. Peter pressed the button for the third floor. Seconds later, they were there, exiting the elevator, turning left toward the sign that directed them to the pediatrics wing.

As they walked down the white-and-tan tiled floor, Violet had to ask herself what she was doing here with Peter. What had made her say yes to his invitation without even knowing whom they were going to see?

Instead of heading down the hall toward the general pediatrics unit, he took another turn and was suddenly in Peds ICU. Bright fluorescent lights glowed above the nurses’ station, though the hall lights were a bit dimmer. The ICU rooms, directly across from the nurses’ desk, were fronted with glass.

Peter’s hand grazed the small of Violet’s back. “I want to check a chart. I’ll be just a minute.”

While she was still trying to compose herself from the brush of his hand, he stepped behind the counter, greeted the nurse on duty, took a chart from the rack and examined it.

A few minutes later he was by her side again. “We’re going to see Celeste Bowlan. She’s six and doesn’t have anybody to care about her except a social worker…and me. She was in an accident with her foster father who was driving drunk. Needless to say, she won’t be going back to that couple. When the ambulance brought her in, she had a collapsed lung and a fractured back as well as abdominal bruising. I couldn’t do surgery immediately. I’ve got it planned for Monday morning. She’s stable now, but I have her sedated.

“When she looks at me with her big brown eyes, she about breaks my heart. She needs somebody to care about her, maybe visit her. Until after her surgery, it’s only fifteen minutes on the hour, but it’ll be something. I thought maybe since you have time on your hands—”

Violet felt herself going cold all over. She stood stock-still when Peter moved to one of the cubicles.

He glanced over his shoulder. “What’s the matter?”

“I’m…I’m not sure you should have brought me here.”

“Why not?”

“Because maybe I don’t want to get involved.”

Quizzically he studied her. “Because of the patient you lost,” he guessed perceptively.

“That’s part of it. Since then I’ve…pulled back.”

“You mean you’ve detached yourself from your patients,” he guessed.

“I haven’t seen that many patients since it happened.”

“Celeste is six years old and she’s all alone,” he said simply. “Reading a story to her now and then, just talking to her could do her a world of good.”

“The mind-body connection?” Violet asked, knowing some doctors believed in it and some didn’t.

“Absolutely.”

Peter was obviously a doctor who did.

He was studying her with far too much intensity. She felt turned inside out and didn’t like it, but she knowingly couldn’t walk away and somehow he’d guessed that.

“Where is she?” Violet murmured.

He gestured toward cubicle number two. When he pushed the button on the wall, the glass door slid silently open. He crossed the threshold first and Violet hesitated only for a moment, then she stepped inside, too. The door closed behind them.

Equipment beeped and buzzed—monitors, the dispenser for the IV, the blood pressure cuff.

“Dr. Clark?” a small voice asked.

“You’re supposed to be asleep,” he scolded gently as he went to the head of the bed and switched on a small night-light.

“Read me a story?” Celeste asked in a sweet, childlike voice that wrapped itself around Violet’s heart.

“I think it’s too late for a story, but I brought someone to meet you.”

Stepping up beside him, Violet looked down at Peter’s small patient. Her eyes were dark brown and huge under her bangs. Her shoulder-length hair was absolutely straight. Violet longed to brush it for her, to soothe her, to somehow make it all better. But that was the problem. Doctors couldn’t always make it all better. She’d found that out the hard way too many times.

Leaning close, Violet laid her hand on the little girl’s, the one that didn’t have an IV line. “I’m Violet,” she said softly. “Dr. Clark tells me your name is Celeste. That’s a beautiful name.”

“My mommy and daddy picked it out,” the little girl said proudly. Tears came to her eyes. “Mrs. Gunthry told me they’re in heaven. I want to go to heaven, too.”

A lump formed in Violet’s throat and her heart felt as if it were cracking.

From behind her, Violet heard, “Mrs. Gunthry is Celeste’s social worker.”

Leaning a bit closer, gently brushing Celeste’s bangs aside, Violet said, “I’ll bet your mommy and daddy are very proud of you.”

Celeste’s eyes grew a little more focused. “Why?”

“Because you’re being a very brave little girl. I’m sure they’re watching over you and hoping you’ll get better.”

“How?”

From Violet’s dealings with children in her practice, she knew they had endless questions and she didn’t always have the answers. Violet lightly touched the little girl’s chest. “They’re always going to live in your heart and help you be strong and good and successful.”

“Will they help me walk again?”

This time Violet looked at Peter since she didn’t know Celeste’s prognosis.

“You’re going to walk again, Celeste,” he said with determined certainty. “And they’re going to be watching you do it. It might take a little while, but you’re going to have lots of help.”

“You?” she asked, her eyes drooping again.

“Me and other nurses and doctors and therapists.” Peter checked his watch. “Violet and I are going to go now and let you sleep.”

“Don’t go,” she whispered.

“I’ll be back,” Peter promised. “I have to take Violet back to her car, but then I’ll come in and sit with you for a while. Okay?”

“’Kay,” Celeste murmured as her eyelids closed.

Violet couldn’t help but touch the little girl’s cheek. There was a longing in her heart to do something for Celeste, and she knew she’d be back to visit.

Outside the cubicle, Peter explained, “The medication makes her sleepy. That’s best under the circumstances.”

“She is a heartbreaker,” Violet admitted, her voice catching. As she walked down the hall, she asked, “Are you really coming back?”

“I always do what I say I’m going to do.”

The assurance in Peter’s voice made her believe him. She didn’t know when she’d last met a man like him. He was kind…as well as downright sexy.

“I’d like to come back and visit her.”

A smile played on his lips. “I was counting on it.”

“You think I have too much free time on my hands?”

“Don’t you?”

“I don’t know. It’s been nice not to have to adhere to a rigid schedule.”

Stopping when they reached the elevator, he pressed the button. “You’re young to have the reputation you’ve gotten. You’ve been working plenty hard.”

The interior of the elevator seemed intimately confining when they stepped inside. As Peter glanced at her, their gazes locked and the current between them could have lit up the whole hospital for at least a week. She didn’t know why she was having this reaction to him and that frightened her as much as excited her. Fortunately, their ride was brief. The lobby was empty.

As they approached the double glass doors, Peter remarked, “The party at the hotel should still be in full swing.”

“I hope Ryan makes some excuse to go home and get a good night’s sleep.”

Peter nodded. “Putting up a good front takes a lot of energy. He might decide to stay until everybody leaves just to prove to Lily nothing’s wrong with him.”

“We’ll know tomorrow.”

After they came out of the hospital, Violet saw a bench to the side of the portico and asked, “Can we sit here a few minutes? I want you to tell me Celeste’s prognosis.”

They could have had this discussion in Peter’s SUV, but something about that was unsettling. Here in the open air, Violet was less distracted by his cologne…by his sheer male presence.

If he thought her request odd, he didn’t show it.

When she sat on the black, wrought-iron bench, a gust of wind reminded her that fall would be slipping into winter soon. She shivered.

Peter must have noticed because he shrugged out of his tuxedo jacket. Before she could assimilate the almost intimate gesture, he slipped his coat around her and she caught the lapels. Now she could feel the tangible evidence of his body heat. Now his scent almost made her giddy.

Finally seated beside her, his knee grazing hers, he explained, “Her prognosis is up in the air, not because of her injury as much as because of her circumstances. I’m afraid she won’t try to get better. She needs support and affection and people who really care about her.”

“Is the social worker trying to find her another family?”

“Trying is the operative word. It’s hard enough to place older children, let alone children who require the care Celeste will need. Her foster father not only drove drunk, but through an investigation Mrs. Gunthry discovered the couple left her alone a lot, too. Celeste has a great-aunt, but she’s in her sixties, arthritic and apparently wants nothing to do with caring for a child. Especially since Celeste didn’t inherit anything but a few pieces of secondhand furniture.”

A great-aunt who had only financial concerns in mind would never be a good parent. Caring about Celeste already, Violet insisted, “Give me Celeste’s best-case scenario.”

The wind blew Violet’s hair across her cheek and she brushed it away. When Peter’s gaze followed the course of her hand, his eyes seemed to turn a darker, more mysterious green. How she wished she knew what he was thinking.

“In the best-case scenario, I’ll fuse her spine. It’s fractured at the L4-5 level. The cord is bruised, not severed. She’ll spend ten days to two weeks in the hospital, then be transferred to a rehab facility. There she can get the therapy she needs to walk again. That could take anywhere from two to five months—some of that in outpatient therapy. You know nothing about this is absolute. That’s why her state of mind is so important.”

His shoulder was touching Violet’s now. As she looked up at him, she murmured, “I’ll spend some time with her, for as long as I’m here.”

“Your attention and support will help.”

“Actually, I think she’ll be helping me as much as I’ll be helping her. Medicine has become too rote for me—diagnosing conditions I can slow but not cure, making judgments, suggesting decisions that can have dire consequences as well as successful ones.”

“You were trained to make judgments and suggest decisions.”

“Yes, I was, wasn’t I? But apparently I wasn’t trained well enough to remove myself from my patients. I’ve got to learn how to do that.”

“No, you don’t.”

Her gaze collided with his and she saw such certainty there.

“I’m not removed from Celeste. You saw that. Should I be?” He shook his head. “I don’t think so. If I were removed, I wouldn’t be as invested in the outcome.”

“I don’t know, Peter,” she said with a sigh.

“Maybe you’ll figure it out while you’re in Red Rock.”

“Maybe, or maybe I’ll have to return to my practice and figure it out there.”

When Peter studied her again, she felt warm in spite of the night chill. She felt so excited, her breath caught. Like a teenager on her first date, Violet was uncertain where the evening would lead. All of it could lead to trouble, she knew. After all, she didn’t indulge in recreational affairs. She never let hormones overrule her head. She didn’t look for relationships because she’d found out at a young age what loving the wrong man could do to her life, to her heart, to her future.

Remembering the girl she’d once been didn’t happen often. She didn’t want the picture to play in her mind now, either. With a quick shrug, she escaped the warmth of Peter’s jacket, gathered it and offered it to him.

“Thanks for letting me use this. I think I’d better get back.”

His focus narrowed slightly but he didn’t try to convince her to stay. Standing, he accepted the jacket and tossed it over his arm. Without another word, they walked to his car.

After he drove to the hotel in silence, he found his parking spot still empty.

Exiting his SUV, Violet said, “I’m not going inside. I’m going to drive back to the Flying Aces.” She didn’t feel like answering questions about where she’d been, why she’d left with Peter, why she’d outbid every other woman in the room for him.

“I’ll walk you to your car.” It wasn’t an offer or a request. It was a matter-of-fact statement that told her he wouldn’t change his mind.

“I’m not afraid of the dark,” she said in a teasing tone.

“Maybe you should be.”

Since she lived in New York City, her attitude wasn’t cavalier. She’d taken a self-defense course. Yet as she pointed out where she’d parked, she wasn’t concerned about her safety as much as she was concerned about her attraction to Peter Clark.

Opening her purse, she took out her keys. After she pressed the remote control button, the car beeped. She stood at the driver’s door not knowing exactly what to say to Peter. It had been an unusual evening.

She settled on, “I guess I’ll see you tomorrow morning. I worry about Ryan driving if this is more than tension headaches. I told him I’d meet him outside the Double Crown and follow him to your place.”

“Did Ryan tell you I’d like to leave by 6:30 a.m.?”

“Yes, he did.”

“Will your brother question where you’re going?”

“With me living at the pool house, we hardly notice each other’s comings and goings. Miles doesn’t watch over me as closely as Clyde does. He won’t miss me.”

The parking lot lights cast a combination of glow and shadows. Peter’s gaze held hers. She couldn’t seem to look away and neither could he. The awareness between them had her senses raised to a fever pitch.

When Peter bent toward her, she was afraid to breathe. She was afraid she’d break the spell. She was afraid his pager might interrupt or else he’d change his mind. In spite of warning bells clanging in her head, she wanted to feel his lips on hers. She wanted to taste him. She wanted to find out if the excitement between them was real.

At the moment his lips touched hers, she knew it was. One of his strong arms went around her and she lifted her lips into the kiss, telling him she wasn’t going to pull away. The sexual tension that had been humming between them since they’d met had needed an outlet, but the kiss was much more than that.

Heat flashed through Violet, making even her fingertips tingle. Coherent thoughts vanished as her body simply responded to Peter’s. His tongue was making her crazy with need. When her arms went around his neck, she pressed into him, and his taut body told her he was as aroused as she was. This kiss was so different from the inexpert kisses of her teenage years, so different from awkward first-date kisses, so different from the maybe-I’ll-try-this-again kisses that had left her cold. She was going up in flames with Peter and she wondered where they could possibly go from here.

She never got the chance to find out. Suddenly the kiss ended as he dropped his arms and stepped away. When she glanced up at him, she was still trembling all over, but he looked as composed as he had all night.

He said, “That was probably not one of the more intelligent things I’ve ever done.”

Her pride kept her from asking why, from showing him the effect he’d had on her. Her pride was something she could hold on to, wrap around herself and rely on.

“It was just a kiss,” she said lightly as if it hadn’t mattered at all.

When he cocked his head, she felt as if he were trying to see right through her, yet she knew he couldn’t. She’d been building walls around herself all her life—since she’d been fifteen, pregnant and more alone than she’d ever felt in her entire existence. There was no way Peter could see into her heart, mind or head.

Opening the car door, she quickly slid inside and closed it. She did not roll her window down to say a final goodbye. Rather she started the engine, shifted the car into gear and backed up. She didn’t even glance in her rearview mirror as she drove away.

Tomorrow morning, when she saw Peter again, she’d be prepared. They’d consult professionally about Ryan, then go their separate ways. End of story.

But her lips still felt as if they were on fire from his kiss, and her insides still quivered. When she felt tears come to her eyes, she took a deep breath and banished them. She was Violet Fortune, strong and independent. She didn’t need a man.

Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.

Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».

Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.

Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.