Judy Duarte - Healing Dr Fortune

The moment was so magical that Kirsten was afraid to breathe for fear it was all a dream and she’d wake up alone in her bed, her arms wrapped around her pillow.

She was spellbound by his heady scent, by the warmth of his breath and the heat of his touch.

As the kiss deepened and their lips parted, his tongue brushed hers, making her knees go weak. So she reached for his waist to steady herself. As she did so, he slipped his arms around her, drawing her close, kissing her until she was tempted to drag him inside and see what happened next.

Oh, lordy. If this was the way Jeremy kissed a woman goodnight, she wondered what it would be like to welcome him into her bed, into her … life.

Dear Reader,

In this story, you’ll meet Kirsten Allen, who has a lot on her plate these days, including an unemployed brother who needs a helping hand and a baby nephew who needs a mother’s touch. But when she runs into Dr Jeremy Fortune, who is waiting in Red Rock until his missing father is found, sparks fly and love blossoms.

So find a cozy spot and curl up with a little Texas romance.

Happy reading!

Judy

JUDY DUARTEalways knew there was a book inside her, but since English was her least favourite subject in school, she never considered herself a writer. An avid reader who enjoys a happy ending, Judy couldn’t shake the dream of creating a book of her own.

Her dream became a reality in March of 2002, when her first book was released. Since then she has published more than twenty novels.

Her stories have touched the hearts of readers around the world. And in July of 2005 Judy won a prestigious Readers’ Choice Award for The Rich Man’s Son .

Judy makes her home near the beach in Southern California. When she’s not cooped up in her writing cave, she’s spending time with her somewhat enormous but delightfully close family.

Healing

Dr Fortune

Judy Duarte

www.millsandboon.co.uk

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In Memory of

Lydia Bustos, the sister I never had, the friend

I’ll never forget.

My loss is Heaven’s gain.

Dr. Jeremy Fortune stepped out the front door of the Red Rock Medical Center and headed for the parking lot, his mood dark as the storm clouds that gathered overhead.

It had been over a month since his father had disappeared on what would have been the older man’s wedding day, and in spite of all the efforts to find him, there’d been very few leads and the trail had gone cold.

William Fortune had been involved in a car accident that took place a hundred miles from the Red Rock church in which he was to be wed. The other driver, a young woman, had died upon impact. But for days, authorities hadn’t realized a second vehicle had been involved until they spotted William’s silver Mercedes, which had plummeted down an embankment and into a deeply wooded area, where it had been partially hidden by brush and rocks.

There hadn’t been any sign of William, though—no blood and no indication that he’d been injured or … worse. It was as if he’d vanished without a trace.

A photograph of Molly, his first wife, had been found tucked into his visor, which had led some of the tabloids to report that he’d been running away. But Jeremy knew better than that.

William Fortune had been eagerly awaiting the ceremony that would unite him in holy matrimony to Lily, the widow of his cousin Ryan. And he’d been looking forward to spending the rest of his life with the woman he’d recently come to love and respect. Besides, his family and his close friends were important to him, and he wouldn’t have left without telling any of them. Not of his own accord, anyway.

At first, Jeremy had feared that his father had been kidnapped, but there were no ransom notes found, no phone calls demanding money.

So where was he?

As a driven and dedicated orthopedic surgeon, Jeremy relied on logic and reason to solve problems, which he always faced head-on. But there wasn’t anything logical about his father’s disappearance.

Jeremy didn’t usually trust feelings or hunches, but he couldn’t shake the belief that his father was still alive and out there— somewhere .

Maybe that was because Jeremy had lost too many family members already and wasn’t going to accept the possibility that he might have lost another.

Nevertheless, he wouldn’t leave Texas and return to California until his father was found—one way or another. So he’d taken a leave of absence from his medical practice in Sacramento, which didn’t seem to bother him nearly as much as he’d thought it would.

He suspected that had something to do with the fact that, even before coming to Red Rock for his father’s wedding, he’d been reevaluating his life choices. And he hoped that a little distance would help him sort it all out.

Still, to keep himself busy during the day and to make himself useful, he’d been volunteering his time at the Red Rock Medical Center, which the Fortune Foundation helped fund. And today was no different.

He glanced at his wristwatch. It was just past four-thirty and a little too early to head for the restaurant. He was meeting his brother and new sister-in-law for dinner at Red tonight—his favorite local restaurant—and he didn’t want to drive all the way back to the Double Crown Ranch, where he’d been staying.

Maybe he ought to use the extra time to stop by the bookstore and pick up a couple novels before meeting Drew and Deanna. He’d been battling insomnia lately, so he’d been doing a lot of reading.

As his shoes crunched along the gritty, leaf- and twig-littered sidewalk, a somber mood continued to weigh him down, which seemed to happen whenever his mind wasn’t on his work and his patients.

Oddly enough, it had lifted last night—during a dream of all things. He wasn’t one to give nocturnal fantasies much thought, but this one had been especially unusual—and real.

The scene had come upon him during the wee hours, but in his mind’s eye, the afternoon sun had cast a golden glow upon a tree-lined street much like some of those that could be found in the nicer neighborhoods in Red Rock.

He’d pulled into the driveway of a two-story home, which had been freshly painted—white, with green and black trim. The lawn was lush and neatly mowed, the plants and shrubs well manicured. A petite woman sat in a wicker rocking chair on the front porch, near a black window box that was chock-full of brightly colored flowers.

It was, he decided, a typical Norman Rockwell scene, and his heart soared upon envisioning it.

He’d tried to get a glimpse of the woman’s face, but she was looking down at a pink-flannel-wrapped bundle in her arms, her honey-brown hair hanging in a soft tumble of curls that blocked his view.

“I’m home,” he’d said, as he’d climbed from the car and shut the door. Then he’d hurried up the sidewalk to greet the mother and child, his steps light. The somber mood that had been plaguing him recently had disappeared completely, leaving him happier and more contented than he’d remembered being in a long, long time.