Meant for Each Other Read online

  “There’s nothing between us,” Leah insisted.

  Letter to Reader

  Title Page

  Books by Ginna Gray

  About the Author

  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

  Copyright

  “There’s nothing between us,” Leah insisted.

  She knew by the gleam in Mike’s eyes and the hint of a smile on his lips that he was remembering their parting the night before. “Don’t look at me that way. I know what you’re thinking, but one kiss, particularly a stolen one, doesn’t constitute a romance. Or even an attraction.”

  “True,” he conceded. “And I’d even agree with that in this case, except for one thing.” He paused and grinned, and she knew she was in trouble. “Last night when I kissed you, you kissed me back.”

  She opened her mouth to argue, but he was right. She had admitted weeks ago that she was attracted to him, but she had deluded herself into believing that it was nothing more than an impersonal physical attraction.

  But it was more than that. Much more. That terrified her. Dear heaven, she couldn’t have those kinds of feelings for Mike McCall.

  But she did.

  Dear Reader,

  Special Edition welcomes you to a brand-new year of romance! As always, we are committed to providing you with captivating love stories that will take your breath away.

  This January, Lisa Jackson wraps up her engrossing FOREVER FAMILY miniseries with A Family Kind of Wedding. THAT SPECIAL WOMAN! Katie Kinkaid has her hands full being an ace reporter—and a full-time mom. But when a sexy, mysterious Texas rancher crosses her path, her life changes forever!

  In these next three stories, love conquers all First, a twist of fate brings an adorably insecure heroine face-to-face with the reclusive millionaire of her dreams in bestselling author Susan Mallery’s emotional love story, The Millionaire Bachelor. Next, Ginna Gray continues her popular series, THE BLAINES AND THE McCALLS OF CROCKETT, TEXAS, with Meant for Each Other. In this poignant story, Dr. Mike McCall heroically saves a life and wins the heart of an alluring colleague in the process And onetime teenage sweethearts march down the wedding aisle in I Take This Man—Again! by Carole Halston.

  Also this month, acclaimed historical author Leigh Greenwood debuts in Special Edition with Just What the Doctor Ordered—a heartwarming tale about a brooding doctor finding his heart in a remote mountain community. Finally, in Prenuptial Agreement by Doris Rangel, a rugged rancher marries for his son’s sake, but he’s about to fall in love for real....

  I hope you enjoy January’s selections. We wish you all the best for a happy new year!

  Sincerely,

  Karen Taylor Richman

  Senior Editor

  Please address questions and book requests to:

  Silhouette Reader Service

  U.S.: 3010 Walden Ave., P.O. Box 1325, Buffalo, NY 14269

  Canadian: P.O. Box 609, Fort Erie, Ont L2A 5X3

  GINNA GRAY

  MEANT FOR EACH OTHER

  Books by Ginna Gray

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  *The Blaines and the McCalls of Crockett, Texas

  GINNA GRAY

  A native Houstonian, Ginna Gray admits that, since childhood, she has been a compulsive reader as well as a head-in-the-clouds dreamer. Long accustomed to expressing her creativity in tangible ways—Ginna also enjoys painting and needlework—she finally decided to try putting her fantasies and wild imaginations down on paper. The result? The mother of two now spends eight hours a day as a full-time writer.

  Chapter One

  The crisis had passed.

  The peaceful way the baby slept confirmed that, but for his own peace of mind Mike had to check. He pressed the stethoscope to the infant’s back, moving the chest piece an inch or so every few seconds, listening. Gradually, the sound of the baby’s unimpeded breathing and the steady beat of the tiny heart brought a smile to his mouth.

  Sighing, Mike removed the stethoscope from his ears and stuck it into the pocket of his medical coat. He put his hand on the child’s forehead and smoothed back the tousled blond curls. The baby’s skin was cool to the touch. “Good going, Jonathon. I always knew you were a tough little nut.”

  On the other side of the bed, the child’s mother raised her head, her eyes full of hope. “What are you saying, Dr. McCall?”

  Mike smiled kindly. “Jonathon’s going to be fine, Mrs. Cunningham. The worst is over. Barring further complications, which I don’t anticipate, in another few days you can probably take him home.”

  “Oh, thank God. Thank God!” Mrs. Cunningham covered her face with her hands and burst into tears.

  Giving comfort was second nature to Mike. Without a thought, he skirted the end of the bed and patted the woman’s shoulder. Immediately, she turned and grabbed his hand, holding it between hers, and looked up at him with abject gratitude.

  “Thank you, Dr. McCall. Thank you, thank you, thank you. You saved our baby’s life.”

  “Mrs. Cunningham, you don’t have to thank me. This is why I became a pediatrician—to help kids like Jonathon. Trust me, seeing your baby on the road to recovery is as much a thrill for me as it is for you.”

  Nearly hysterical with relief and fatigue, Mrs. Cunningham continued to babble her thanks. It took another five minutes for Mike to calm the woman and persuade her to get some rest on the rollaway bed beside her son’s crib.

  When he finally left the hospital room he paused in the hallway outside the door and leaned against the wall. Now that the crisis had passed, weariness overwhelmed him. Closing his eyes, he rubbed the back of his neck and rolled his shoulders, groaning as the taut muscles and joints relaxed.

  “Dr. McCall, may I have a word with you, please?”

  Mike recognized the voice instantly. At first, though, he thought that exhaustion had caused him to hallucinate. Surprise shot through him when he opened his eyes and saw Dr. Leah Albright hurrying toward him.

  It was the first time since he had joined the staff at St. Francis Hospital that she had sought him out. On a few rare occasions, when she had delivered a baby who was in trouble and no other pediatrician was available, she’d been forced to consult with him, but at those times she’d had him paged or had her nurse call him, and their meetings invariably had been short and to the point. The rest of the time she seemed to go out of her way to avoid him.

  Even as tired as Mike was, h
e noted her graceful carriage and the way her lab coat fluttered around her fantastic legs. A smile tugged at his mouth. Dr. Leah Albright was one gorgeous woman.

  As she drew near he straightened away from the wall and ran his hand through his hair. “Sure thing. What’s up, Doctor?”

  She stopped in front of him, and at once Mike felt that zing of electricity he always experienced whenever she was near. If she felt it, too, she didn’t show it. Her manner was as crisp and reserved as always.

  “Dr. McCall, are you aware that my half brother is here in the hospital, critically ill with leukemia? That he needs a bone marrow transplant?”

  If Mike hadn’t been so tired he might have chuckled. As usual, she came straight to the point—no shilly-shallying, no polite small talk, no pretense of friendship. “Yeah. I’d heard that from one of the nurses. How’s he doing?”

  “His condition is deteriorating daily.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that. So, who’s his doctor?” It was a common enough question, especially among the medical community, but it seemed to irritate her.

  “Dr. Sweeney.”

  Mike nodded. “Good, good. He’s a fine man. The best.”

  “Yes, I know. That’s why I took Quinton to him,” she said impatiently. “Are you also aware of the plea Henry Scarborough issued on Quinton’s behalf, asking all the doctors and nurses and the rest of the hospital staff to be tested as possible bone marrow donors?”

  “Yes, I am.” He’d read the hospital administrator’s memo almost a week ago, but he’d been so busy trying to save baby Jonathon he’d barely given it a thought since then.

  “I see. Do you have some sort of objection to being tested? Or to the procedure?”

  He blinked, taken aback. “No, of course not.”

  “Then why haven’t you done so? Practically everyone else on the hospital staff has been tested. Even the cafeteria personnel and the janitorial crew.”

  Anger vibrated in her voice, which surprised him. Leah Albright was known for her reserve and control. Mike ran his hand through his hair again. “Look, I’m sorry about that. It wasn’t deliberate. I just haven’t had the time.”

  “Haven’t had the time? My brother’s life is at stake, Doctor.”

  “So was my patient’s,” he retorted with the first hint of annoyance. Mike was normally good-natured and slow to anger, but he was bone weary and in no mood to defend himself from unwarranted accusations, even if they did come from the most attractive woman he’d ever met. “I’ve spent the last five days trying to save a ten-month-old baby. In that time I haven’t slept more than two hours at a stretch or sat down to a decent meal. You’ll have to excuse me if I didn’t take time out, but as a doctor you must know that my patient had to come first.”

  Her aggression evaporated. She even had the grace to look embarrassed.

  “I see. I’m sorry, Doctor. I didn’t realize.”

  Mike waved aside her apology, already regretting the flare of temper. “That’s okay. I shouldn’t have snapped at you. I’m just tired. Look, I know you’re concerned about your brother. I’ve got a brother myself. And two sisters. If their lives were threatened I’d be just as upset.”

  “Does that mean you’ll be tested?” she pressed.

  He sighed. “Sure.”

  She seemed to sag with relief. “Oh, thank you. Thank you so much. If you hurry you can make it to the lab before it closes for the day.”

  “What? You expect me to do it now? This minute? Look, I’m sorry, but I’m dead on my feet. Right now all I want is a quick shower and about twelve straight hours of uninterrupted sleep. I’ll be happy to cooperate and do whatever I can, but it’ll have to be tomorrow.”

  “Please, Doctor, wait!” Leah grabbed his arm when he started to walk away. “I know we’re not exactly friends and I have no right to pressure you, but this is so important. Every minute is critical for Quinton. Please. Won’t you do it today?”

  “Look, Dr. Albright—”

  “Please. I’m begging you. Please.”

  Her fingers tightened on Mike’s arm until her fingernails dug into his flesh through his shirt and lab coat, but he barely noticed. He was too stunned to see her eyes fill with tears. Never in a million years had he expected to see Dr. Leah Albright all emotional and weepy.

  Of course the reaction was his undoing. As it did his father and all the other men in his family, the sight of a woman’s tears turned him to mush. He tried, but with her staring at him that way, her blue eyes shimmering through that watery wall banked against her lower eyelids, how could he refuse?

  He exhaled a long sigh. “All right, Doctor, you win. I’ll go today, since it’s so important to you.”

  “Oh, thank you. Thank you so much. I can’t tell you how grateful I am. I’ll be forever in your debt. And if I can ever be of help to you with one of your patients, just let me know.”

  A wry grimace lifted one corner of Mike’s mouth. This seemed to be his day for receiving gushing thanks from overwrought women. Though gratitude wasn’t exactly what he wanted from Leah Albright, he supposed it was an improvement over the cool indifference he’d been getting from her for the past two years.

  “Hey, no problem. I’ll go right now.”

  He took a step, then hesitated and turned back. She watched him with such anxious hope that he almost flinched. “Look” he said softly. “I know this is none of my business, but I’d advise you not to get your hopes up too high. As a doctor you have to know the chances are astronomical that you’ll find a donor among the hospital staff.” Which was precisely why he hadn’t been too concerned about failing to get himself tested before now. “It would be a miracle if you found someone from such a small sample of people who came even remotely close to matching your brother’s human leukocyte antigens. If I were you, I’d try the National Donor Registry. They’re your best hope.”

  “Yes, I know. We already have, but so far with no luck.”

  “I see. Well, I wouldn’t give up,” Mike said kindly. “New people register with them every day. There’s always a chance that a match for your brother will eventually turn up.”

  “I know. But Quinton doesn’t have all that long to wait.” Leah sniffed and wiped the tears from her eyes with her fingertips. “So in the meantime I’m going to continue to beat the bushes and recruit help from everyone I know. I love my brother very much, and I’m going to do everything in my power to keep him alive.”

  “I understand. In your place I’d probably do the same.”

  A strange look came over Leah’s face. Then she backed away a step and gave a fluttery gesture not at all typical of her. “Yes, well, uh, thank you again, Dr. McCall. I, uh, I’d better get back to my brother now.”

  Mike watched her walk away and shook his head. That was one beautiful, complicated lady.

  He turned and headed for the lab with a feeling of sadness and futility. This was a waste of time.

  But what the hell. If it made her feel better, why not?

  Leah felt awful. Inside her, duty and love warred with guilt, and the turmoil was eating her alive.

  The battle had been going on without letup all afternoon, ever since she had gotten Mike McCall to agree to her request. Not even when she had stood beside Quinton’s bed and gazed at his pale face had she been able to completely shake off the pangs of conscience.

  What she was doing was wrong, ethically and morally. No matter how she tried to rationalize, she couldn’t escape that truth.

  She turned into her driveway and brought her car to a stop behind her father’s rented Mercedes. But what choice did she have? Quinton’s life was at stake. She couldn‘t—wouldn’t—let him die. Gritting her teeth, she climbed from the car and headed up the brick walkway. If she had to lie, cheat and steal to save her brother she would.

  The aroma of one of Cleo’s delicious meals greeted Leah the moment she stepped through the front door. An instant later the motherly woman bustled through the swinging kitchen door at the back of the ce
ntral hallway, wiping her hands on her apron.

  “Ah, Miss Leah, I thought I heard you come in.”

  Leah gave her a tired smile. “Good evening, Cleo.” She laid her medical bag on the seat of the hall tree and started to shrug out of her coat.

  “Here now, let me take your things for you,” Cleo said. “I swear, the hours you keep it’s a wonder you’ve got the energy left to stand.”

  Leah surrendered to the elderly housekeeper’s fussing with a tolerant smile. When Leah had come to live with her father after her mother’s death, Cleo had taken the grieving fifteen-year-old under her wing. In the past eighteen years Leah had received more attention and affection from the elderly housekeeper than she ever had from her father and stepmother.

  When Leah had completed her medical training and taken Quinton and moved to Houston, it had seemed only natural that Cleo go with them. Not even Julia had objected. They had agreed that Cleo would continue to work for Julia and Peter whenever they were in Dallas, but since that occurred so seldom, she spent far more time with Leah and Quinton than she did with the elder Albrights.

  Leah sniffed the air appreciatively. “Mmm, something smells heavenly. I hope I haven’t ruined dinner by being so late.”

  “No. It’s nothing that won’t keep for a bit while you put your feet up and unwind. If the missus says anything I’ll tell her that dinner isn’t ready yet. Not much she can do about that.” Cleo leaned close and lowered her voice to barely above a whisper. “But if I were you, I’d get myself in there right away. She’s been in a snit that you weren’t here for cocktails.”

  “Thanks, Cleo.”