The Good Doctor. Karen Smith Rose

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The Good Doctor - Karen Smith Rose


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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


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