CHAPTER TWO

Clint Covington is a secret mafia but a sexy neurosurgeon to the public and he is looking for no relationships except the casual hookups. He had businesses he handled secretly from the public except that everyone knew he had several big hospitals.

His house phone rang at 10:33 p.m. on the Sunday after Thanksgiving. The high-pitched sound yanked Clint Covington attention away from the television screen and the football game he’d carved out time to watch live, no distractions.

Who would be calling at this hour?

The hitch in his breath was born out of a hidden fear he kept tucked deep inside his soul. When his parents were killed in a fatal car crash, Clint had been the first to get the news. As the oldest of four, he had to identify the bodies, to inform his three younger siblings and to handle all the funeral arrangements.

He’d completed each task without hesitation, and had been forced to repeat an eerily similar process a year and a half ago when another deadly car accident had taken his fiancée.

The incessant ringing continued.

Like a shock wave, old memories rippled across new. Clint’s previously easy, relaxed mood spiraled into something darker.

He debated ignoring the call. Few people had his home number , and any medical emergency would either go to his answering service or come through on his cell phone.

The ringing stopped.

Banishing unwanted memories and the emotions they brought, Clint sat back to enjoy the game. The Bronco were about to score a touchdown.

The ringing started up again.

Clint’s gut took a hard roll. Surely the Lord wouldn’t deal him another blow, wouldn’t make him suffer through another unexpected goodbye. He’d had enough sorrow for one lifetime. He put the game on mute, then made the short trek from living room to kitchen.

The sound of doggy toenails clicking on the tile floor alerted him that his treasured black orbit had followed him. He patted Orbit on the head and then glanced at the caller ID.

Jennifer Armstrong. Clint’s gut took another hard roll, for an entirely different reason this time.

His neighbor was one of the few women in town he tended to avoid, for reasons he didn’t want to explore tonight. Or ever.

Since Jennifer also made a habit of avoiding him as well, he figured whatever had incited her to call the house—twice—on the landline—had to be important.

He snatched up the telephone receiver. “Clint speaking.”

A short, tense pause sounded on the other end of the line, followed by a weary female sigh. “ Why haven't you been answering your phone ? .”

“Hello to you, too, Jenny.”

She sighed again, the sound filled with frustration. “ Please can you come over or not ?”

“No. I am busy .”

“That’s unfortunate.”

Something in her voice put Clint on alert. He could practically feel Jennifer’s agitation coming through the phone. Both his younger brothers were doctors. But where Clint was a primary care physician and Brody was working for Doctors Without Borders, Ryder specialized in emergency medicine.

If she was calling him this late at night...

“Talk to me, Jenny. What’s going on?”

“I need your help.”

Four words Clint never expected to come out the woman’s mouth, at least not directed at him.Something must be seriously wrong. “Are you hurt?”

“It’s not me. It’s Sandra. She’s really sick and I don’t know what to do. Should I take her out in this weather, to the ER waiting room, or do I hold off, pray it’ll go away? I’m really, really worried.”

She was also rambling. Another first.

Clint mentally sorted through her words, stopping on an unfamiliar name. Sandra . Who was Sandra ? His mind went blank. Then he remembered the little girl who had moved in with Jennifer over the holiday weekend. He didn’t know the whole story, only that Jennifer was the child’s legal guardian for an indefinite amount of time.

“What’s wrong with her?”

“She’s complaining of stomach pain.”

In full doctor mode now, Clint digested this piece of information. “Any vomiting?”

“Just once, about an hour ago.”

“When did she last eat?”

“Around six.”

He checked his watch, did a mental calculation between regular dinner hours and now. “What did she eat?”

“A hamburger, fries, oh, and a cinnamon roll. I know they aren’t the healthiest choices, but she starts school tomorrow and I took her to the mall to buy her some new clothes. You might think it’s odd I’m putting her in school two weeks before Christmas break, but I wanted her to meet other kids before—”

He cut her off. “Hold up. Does she have a fever?”

Jennifer blew out a loud hiss. “I checked it right before I called your cell phone. The thermometer said 99.7 degrees. Can you... Clint , please, can you come over and look at Sandra ?”

On my way.” He hung up the phone and headed for the mudroom just off the kitchen.

Orbit trotted past him and took up position at the back door, a hopeful expression in his coal-black eyes. Normally, Clint would indulge the dog. He and the black Lab had been through a lot of hard times since Clint rescued the animal during his tour in Afghanistan.

“Sorry, buddy, you can’t come with me.”

Orbit whined, the sound pitiful and well honed from years of conning Clint .

“Hang tight, old boy. This shouldn’t take long.” Clint scrubbed the animal’s face between his hands. “I’ll let you out when I get back.”

The dog’s ears drooped, but he obediently lowered himself to his haunches and rested his chin on his paws.

Clint grabbed his coat and trod through the three inches of snow that had fallen throughout the day. He didn’t have far to go. The backyard of Jennifer’s childhood home spilled into his. They had that in common, both living in the houses they’d grown up in, having inherited them from their parents. Clint, after his had died. Jennifer , after hers had moved to Arizona.Only that he only stayed in his father's house when he needed space from his guards and other heavily things that came with his wealth .

He was on her back stoop, stomping snow off his boots, when the door flung open. “What took you so long?”

Since she sounded like a terrified new parent, he forgave her for her rudeness. “Came as fast as I could.”

“Don’t just stand there. Come inside.”

Holding his tongue, again, he climbed the steps. As was becoming a habit whenever they were up close and personal, he reminded himself this was Jennifer . Once upon a time she’d been just another skinny kid hanging out with his younger sister.

Despite growing into a beautiful woman with long, gorgeous red hair, amazing green eyes and a figure that jealous peers had once compared to Jessica Rabbit’s, Jennifer was still that same annoying girl Clint tolerated because she was his sister’s BFF. He remembered how she started hating on him . It all started when his sister told him Jennifer said she loves him and he had immediately rebuffed her instead .

Except, lately, things had changed between them. Their relationship was morphing into something new, something charged with tension and awkward pauses. The initial shift had started nearly a year ago, right after she’d left her big-city life in New York and settled back in Colorado.