Tracy Wolff - From the Beginning

He’s determined to make amends

Okay, life has been tough recently. Dr. Amanda Jacobs is finally ready to admit that—and do something about it. Stateside again, she’s focused on reestablishing her medical career. Sure, it’s not the stop-your-heart stress of working in war-torn countries. But right now she needs a little less stress.

And that means she doesn’t need the distraction of Simon Hart. The way Amanda sees it, their on-again-off-again relationship can stay off. Even though he’s more charming than ever, is there too much between them to get over? Still, a part of her wonders if this is their chance to be together…forever.

What was Simon doing here?

Amanda’s stomach tightened. There was no way Simon would fly this far to see her after the way they’d last parted. She’d almost convinced herself that she was mistaken—that it wasn’t him standing over there. She’d even managed to quiet the instinctive, involuntary response that took over her body every time she’d seen him in the past ten years.

Then the man turned. It was him. His bright green eyes met hers as he scanned the crowd.

Amanda wanted to look away, but she was caught. He was the one person in the whole world guaranteed to make the soul-crushing pain she felt even worse.

He stopped a couple feet in front of her, reached a hand out to stroke her cheek. “Oh, sweetheart, look at you.”

She stiffened. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m here to take you home.”

“I’d rather take on an entire shiver of sharks than spend one second in your company.”

“Well, then, I guess we’re both in for a bumpy ride—because this time you aren’t getting rid of me.”

Dear Reader,

Every once in a while, an author gets the chance to write the book of her heart. For me, From the Beginning is that book. It’s an idea that I’ve had for over four years, one that I had hoped would be my second Everlasting Love novel, and one I’m thrilled to finally be bringing to you as a Harlequin Superromance.

Early in my writing career, Amanda Jacobs took up residence in my head, and no matter what I did, she wouldn’t leave. She was smart and sarcastic, strong and selfless, and she kept talking to me. So when my fabulous editor gave me the go-ahead to write this book, I was thrilled. Not much compares to telling the story of a character you’ve lived with for so long, and one you admire as much as I do Amanda.

Now, being me, I had to take Amanda on an emotional roller coaster. I tested her limits and wrenched every ounce of emotion from her. In doing so, I think I made her a better character and firmly believe I made myself a better writer. I hope you agree.

I love, particularly, that this book is coming out at the end of winter, just when things here in Texas, where I live, are starting to come back to life. Starting to bloom, as that rebirth is so important to both Amanda and Simon in this novel.

Thanks so much for giving From the Beginning a try. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. I love hearing from my readers, either at my email, tracy@tracywolff.blogspot.com, or at my blog, www.tracywolff.blogspot.com. If you get the chance, please stop by and say hello!

Happy reading!

Tracy Wolff

From the Beginning

Tracy Wolff

www.millsandboon.co.uk

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Tracy Wolff collects books, English degrees and lipsticks, and has been known to forget where—and sometimes who—she is when immersed in a great novel. At six she wrote her first short story—something with a rainbow and a prince—and at seven she ventured into the wonderful world of girls’ lit with her first Judy Blume novel. By ten she’d read everything in the young adult and classics sections of her local bookstore, so in desperation her mom started her on romance novels. And from the first page of the first book, Tracy knew she’d found her life-long love. Tracy lives in Texas with her husband and three sons, where she pens romance novels and teaches writing at her local community college.

To Beverly Sotolov and Wanda Ottewell,

for giving me a chance to tell this story and

for making me a writer worthy of telling it

Acknowledgments:

As always, to my amazing agent,

Emily Sylvan Kim, who is as fabulous a person as she is an agent. Thanks for always being there.

To Wanda Ottewell, who is never afraid to tell me when I’ve gone too far—or not far enough. Having you as an editor has made me a better writer.

And to my three boys, who put up with a

not-so-great summer as I was writing this book.

Thanks for understanding and for being such amazing people. I love you very much.

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

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

CHAPTER NINETEEN

CHAPTER TWENTY

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

CHAPTER ONE

Somalia, 2011

HE WAS GOING TO DIE and there was nothing she could do to stop it.

Five presses, one breath.

Even knowing that it was over, she continued the chest compressions on his frail and bloated body.

Five presses, one breath.

All around her the nurses shook their heads, their expressions sad but accepting.

Five presses, one breath.

His mother looked on with hopeless eyes.

Five presses, one breath.

Outside, the howling wind stopped as if the very desert itself was holding its breath as it sensed him slipping away.

Five presses, one breath.

But she couldn’t let him go. His eyes had implored her when he first came into the clinic so many hours ago. She couldn’t just let him die of the ache in his belly. Not when everything inside her raged at the unfairness of allowing a six-year-old child to slip away, when all of her training taught her to fight harder and longer. After all, malnutrition could be countered, as could starvation and most of the diseases found here.

But it was too late for Mabulu. Too late for high- protein drinks from the States, too late for peanut-butter sandwiches or fresh bananas. Too late for the vitamins and shots that could so easily have saved him a few weeks before.

Sometimes it felt as if everything she did in this godforsaken country was too little, too late.

Five presses, one breath.

It was time to stop. Her intellect knew it, but her heart was already so cracked that she feared one more loss might shatter it forever. So she continued pressing down on his small chest, long past the time her medical experience told her to stop.

Sweat ran down her face, and her arms trembled from the strain.

Five presses, one breath.

Tears blurred her eyes—an appalling lack of professionalism she could do nothing about.

Hundreds of thousands of deaths she could do nothing about.

She railed at the unfairness of it, at the complete and utter hopelessness of this battle she had been fighting for eleven years now. What good was a medical degree if she couldn’t save anyone?

Five presses, one breath.

“Time of death—11:42 a.m.” The deep voice boomed across the impromptu operating room, and Amanda Jacobs glanced up, startled, into the face of Jack Alexander—head doctor of this particular clinic and a close personal friend since they’d done their first year of medical school together fifteen years before.

“He’s my patient,” she said, continuing CPR. “I say when he’s dead.”

“How long has he been down?”

She bit her lip, knowing that the answer would damn Mabulu—and herself. “Twenty-seven minutes.”