The Good Doctor (4 page)

“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.

T
he 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.