Against Doctor's Orders

“And if I don’t agree, I’ll appear to be uncooperative at best, or hiding things at worst,” Presley said stiffly. “Why not. Send in the Rivers contingent, by all means.”

She rose and pulled on her suit jacket, steeling herself to face Harper for the first time since she’d walked out of Harper’s bedroom. Edward entered first, with Harper and Flannery side by side behind him. Flannery, as usual, was in scrubs. Harper wore casual black pants, a gray shirt, and loafers. Her dark hair needed a trim, although Presley liked the roguish contrast to her otherwise conventional style. An inappropriate desire to ruffle the ends of hair drifting over her collar flickered through her mind, and she quickly quashed it.

“Doctors,” Presley said, looking away from Harper with effort. Shadows deepened her eyes to nearly black, and for an instant, Presley’s throat tightened with longing. She lifted her chin, smiled. “Thank you for making time in your busy schedules. I’ll try not to take up too much of your time.”

“That’s quite all right,” Edward said. “This is too important to rush.”

“Please sit down.” Presley gestured to the small conference table that faced a screen on one wall. She smiled in the direction of Harper and Flannery. “And the other Drs. Rivers too, of course.”

“Thanks,” Harper said, sitting across from Flann while her father sat at the head facing the screen. Harper had hoped the next time she saw Presley, the meeting would seem no different than any other professional encounter. She’d been fooling herself. She did that a lot where Presley was concerned. Just looking at Presley stirred her up. Presley appeared a little tired, a little thinner, but as totally cool and in control as ever. She stood facing them from the far end of the table, her hair held back with a burnished copper clasp, her pale green shirt the perfect complement to her beige suit jacket and pants. She was a beautiful woman. Harper knew just how beautiful. She didn’t have to close her eyes to see her again, naked and pliant and unrestrained—the image came to her at the most inconvenient times, igniting a rush of desire followed quickly by disappointment. The best times were when she woke in the morning and, for just an instant before her mind registered reality, she thrilled to the possibility of reaching out and touching her. But that was not going to happen. She forced herself to concentrate on Presley and see only the businesswoman and no one else.

“Let me bring you all up to date,” Presley said, taking a small remote from her pocket and clicking on her computer.

A slide appeared onscreen. A pie chart with a variety of colors and numbers. More charts and graphs followed. For the next fifteen minutes, Presley concisely and lethally explained to them why the hospital was failing and why the board had, for all intents and purposes, sold it out from under them. When she was done, she clicked off the projector and the screen went blank behind her. She leaned forward, the fingertips of each hand pressing lightly against the table. She made eye contact with each in turn and focused on Harper’s father at the end.

“I’m sorry that it’s come to this, but the hospital is not viable. SunView has rehabilitated any number of institutions such as this, and in this case, I’m afraid it’s clear. Within the next six to ten weeks, we will close the hospital. You’ll need to inform the physicians to make arrangements to transfer inpatients who cannot be discharged in that period of time and to begin setting up new lines of referral for those who will need to be admitted in the near future for anything more than a day or two.”

Edward said, “Are there no alternatives?”

“I’m afraid not.”

“May we have a few weeks to explore alternate possibilities before advising the staff?”

Presley’s inclination was to decline. She understood the doctors’ need to resist; she’d seen it before. No one wanted to hear they were about to not only lose their own jobs but would have to advise hundreds of others of the same thing. However, delaying the inevitable rarely made a difference. “I don’t—”

Harper spoke up. “You’ve had the opportunity to look at all the facts and figures. We’re just hearing this now.”

“But surely you knew this was coming.” Presley had told Harper as much weeks before.

“The three of us know more about the medical systems in this area than you could possibly have learned since you’ve arrived,” Harper said. “Let us talk about it. We might be able to present you with an alternative.”

“Dr. Rivers,” Presley said with as much patience as she could muster, “I don’t presume to tell you how to treat patients. It’s my job to look at all of these issues from every side before reaching a decision. Believe me, we’ve done that. As things stand—”

“Yes,” Harper said, “as things stand now. But perhaps we could make some changes that would make a difference.”

Presley shook her head. “You can’t put more money in the pockets of your patients. You can’t force insurance companies to pay more for your services. You might be able to influence your fellow practitioners to some degree, but the system remains the system.”

Flannery said, “There must be somewhere we can find a new revenue source.”

“There isn’t,” Presley said. “You may not believe this, but I’ve looked. There are basically three sources of revenue for an institution like this—government funding, insurance reimbursement, and patient self-pay. You have precious little of any of those.”

“What if we could get more government subsidy,” Harper said.

“How?” Presley said.

“I’m not sure yet. Give us a little time—”

“Ten days,” Presley said, knowing they would be more willing to do what needed to be done when they failed to find an alternate solution. She could give them ten days. “Then we will make an announcement to the staff that the hospital is closing.”

“We’ll do our best to see that doesn’t happen,” Edward said flatly.

She nodded and the three Rivers doctors rose. Edward and Flannery started toward the door, but Harper hesitated. “Thank you.”

Presley nodded, the tightness in her throat making it hard for her to speak for a moment. When Harper turned to leave, she said, “Harper.”

Harper paused, letting the door close, leaving them alone.

“How’s Jimmy?” Presley asked. How are you? Do you know I wish we’d met somewhere else? Sometime else?

“Holding his own. He’s not responding as quickly as we hoped, but he’s stable.”

“Good. That’s good, then.”

Harper studied her for a long moment, then nodded silently and left.

Presley waited a few minutes until she was sure they were gone before packing her laptop. It was only midafternoon, hours before she usually left the hospital, but she couldn’t stand the confines of the office any longer.

“I’m going to spend the rest of the day working at home,” she told Carrie.

“There’s a game tonight,” Carrie said cautiously. “Why don’t you come? You’ve been spending eighteen hours a day on this. Take a break.”

“No. But thanks.”

It was bad enough she couldn’t get Harper out of her head. The last thing she wanted was to see her again. Phoenix couldn’t happen soon enough.

Chapter Twenty-five

A crack like a rifle shot punctured the warm afternoon air. A white projectile rocketed straight toward Harper and jerked her to attention. She extended her glove and dove to her right. The missile impacted earth, altered its trajectory, and caromed upward, its speed barely diminished by the ricochet. The ball sailed over her glove and hit squarely on the left side of her jaw. Pain lanced through her head, and for an instant, the world disappeared.

“Lie still,” a faraway voice ordered.

Harper opened her eyes, blinked, and watched strands of cotton candy drift and tumble overhead. Calliope music tinkled faintly and she was a kid again, back on the fairground, holding on to the huge plaster horses as they glided up and down the poles, screaming with joy as the platform went round and round, so fast it felt as if she would fly off if she let go. Her father stood beside her, his arm gripping the pole above her head, his body a shield ensuring she would not fall.

She lay on her back, trying to understand how she had fallen off this time.

Flannery’s face came into view, the set of her mouth uncharacteristically serious.

“I’m fine,” Harper said. The words seem garbled. She swallowed, tasted blood. The sky stopped spinning and the clouds slowed their movement to a lazy glide across her field of vision. She checked her upper and lower teeth with the tip of her tongue. All intact, none broken. A sore spot on the inside of her left cheek seeped blood. She must’ve bitten it. She tried the words again. “I’m fine.”

“Somebody get me some ice,” Flann yelled, one hand pressing Harper’s shoulder to the ground. “Just lie there for a minute, hotshot.”

“Help me over to the bench.” She sounded a little more understandable now, but every little bit of movement triggered a bolt of pain from in front of her ear straight into her brain. She touched her jaw and Flann caught her wrist.

“What part of be still isn’t getting through to you?”

“Just want to see if it’s broken.”

“Why don’t you let me do that?”

Harper closed her eyes and got ready for more pain. Flann’s fingers traced gently along the bone and Harper was reminded again what a good surgeon she was. How quick and deft her hands were when she worked. “Ouch.”

“Ouch for real, or ouch ’cause you’re being a pussy?”

“Ouch like I need some ice, but I don’t think it’s broken.”

“Ought to be X-rayed.”

“Hell, no.”

“How are your teeth?”

“All there, none loose. Bite’s okay.”

“I suppose we can ice it tonight and see about an X-ray in the morning, then.” Flann slid an arm behind Harper’s shoulders and helped her sit up. “You dizzy?”

“Not anymore.”

“How many?” Flann held out three fingers.

“Five.”

“Stop fucking around.”

Harper tried to grin but her mouth didn’t really seem to be working right. “Three. I told you I’m fine.”

Carrie dropped to her knees beside them. “Oh my God, that was really a shot. How are you feeling?”

“Like an ass. Come on, get me off the field. I’m okay.” All Harper’s teammates and most of the opposing team were standing around her in a circle. “Come on, we’re winning. Let’s not lose the momentum.”

“Right.” Flann tightened her grip behind Harper’s shoulders and pulled her to her feet. Harper had to lean on her, but she tried to make it as subtle as possible. “You sure we don’t need the hospital tonight?”

“No, but I might need a ride home.”

“I’ll take you to the big house.”

“What for?”

“So Mama can look after you for a while. Otherwise you’re just gonna lie on your sofa feeling sorry for yourself.”

“True. But we’re not leaving until you finish kicking their asses.”

Flann got her settled on a bench with a bag of ice. “Hold that. I’ll be back after I’m done ass kicking.”

When the team finished creaming the opposition, Carrie joined Harper. “How you doing?”

“Looks worse than it is.”

“That’s good to know, because it really looks terrible. You’ve got a lump the size of—well, a softball on your jaw. Do you think it’s broken?”

“I doubt it. Maybe a hairline crack, but nothing that won’t heal on its own.”

“That was a freakin’ missile she hit,” Carrie said. “I put it high and outside, but she teed off on it. Sorry.”

“Not your fault.”

Flann strode up. “Wouldn’t have hit you if you’d had your head in the game. You shouldn’t be playing if you can’t concentrate.”

“Kiss my ass,” Harper said, and was pleased the words came out clearly.

“You’re lucky daydreaming about a woman didn’t end you up in the ER,” Flann said.

“Who says I was—”

“Tell me you weren’t thinking about a certain blonde with a killer body and a mind like a buzz saw.”

Carrie jumped up. “Okay, I’m out of here for this conversation.”

“No need,” Harper said carefully. “The conversation’s ended.”

Flann looked at Carrie. “You going with everyone to the Hilltop for pizza?”

“I was planning on it.”

“I’ll see you there after I drop this one off.”

Carrie smiled. “Okay.”

*

Flann was mercifully quiet for the first half of the drive home. Harper rode with her head back, her eyes closed, and the ice slowly melting as she held it to her face.

“You asleep?” Flann finally said.

“No.”

“What do you think about what Presley said earlier?”

“I’m not surprised. Are you?” Harper had been thinking about Presley all afternoon. About what she’d said, the way she’d looked, and the sadness in her eyes. She’d been remembering, too, the way she’d looked naked, straddling her, wild and triumphant.

“What?” Flann asked.

“What?”

“You kind of groaned. Are you feeling worse?”

“No, I’m fine,” Harper said, tortured by the memories she didn’t want to give up.

“Got any bright ideas about what we might be able to do to change things? ’Cause Presley is pretty set on what needs to be done.”

“Maybe,” Harper said. “I’ll talk to you and Dad about it when I get things a little more worked out in my head.”

“Don’t take too long. Presley isn’t likely to give us an extension.”

“She’s not the enemy.” Harper wanted to defend Presley even as she struggled to find a way to stop her from doing what she planned.

“Nope,” Flann said lightly, swinging into the drive at the big house. “She’s just the enemy’s hatchet man.”

Flann stopped in front of the house, jumped out before Harper could argue, and came around to help Harper out of the car.

“I’m okay,” Harper griped, shaking off the arm Flann wrapped around her waist. “I don’t need a damn wheelchair.”

“I wasn’t getting you one.”

Harper’s mother came out onto the back porch. “What are you two squabbling about now?” She folded her arms and narrowed her eyes as Harper drew closer. “Bat or ball?”

“Ball.”

Her eyebrows rose. “That’s what the glove at the end of your arm is supposed to be for, Harper.”

“It took a funny jump.”

“And that’s what your eyes are for,” she went on, holding open the screen door. She glanced at Flann. “How exactly did you let this happen?”

“Me? It’s not my fault she was sleeping at shortstop.”

“You know the rules. If one of you has been up all night and is too tired to play, the other one makes the call to pull you out.”

“Wasn’t her fault,” Harper said, slumping into a chair at the table. “I just took my eye off the ball for a second.”

“I see.”

Flann kissed their mother quickly on the cheek and backed toward the door. “I’m going for pizza. See you later.”

The door banged shut and she was gone. Ida opened the icebox compartment and pulled out a tray of ice cubes. She ran it under cold water, popped out the cubes, refilled the tray, and put it back in the freezer. After filling a plastic bag with the cubes, she handed it to Harper and took the melted bag from her. “Something happen today? Problem with one of the patients?”

Harper stretched out in the chair, her legs extended under the table, the bag of ice back against her jaw. “Presley called Dad, Flann, and me into her office today. SunView plans on closing the Rivers.”

“Closing it,” Ida said slowly. “That would be hard on everyone around these parts.”

“Yeah, it would.”

“Is there anything you can do?”

“We need more money.”

“Don’t we all.” Ida shook her head and slammed a plastic dish basin into the sink. She yanked on the faucet and hot water gushed into the tub. She rinsed glasses and laid them in to soak. “Didn’t the board see this coming?”

“I don’t know. If they did, I don’t think they let Dad in on it.”

“They didn’t, not until very recently.”

“I’ve maybe got an idea, but it’s probably harebrained.”

Her mother stood behind her and gently kneaded her shoulders. “Maybe a harebrained idea is what it’s going to take.”

“Maybe.” Harper closed her eyes. Her mother’s hands were strong and tender on her tight muscles, and just as soothing as they’d been when she was a kid and her mother would tend to her bruises and scrapes.

“What really happened tonight?” Ida asked.

“I wasn’t paying attention.”

“Why not?”

Harper thought of a million excuses as she let herself relax into her mother’s hands. “I was thinking about Presley.”

“What she told you today about the hospital?”

Slowly, Harper shook her head. “No. About…personal stuff.”

“That overnight visit, you mean.”

Harper felt her face glow bright red. “Yes. Well, not just that.”

“Harper, sweetie,” her mother said gently, “you don’t have to be embarrassed about having feelings or what you got up to with her.”

“That’s just it,” Harper said, “I do have feelings. Feelings that won’t go away.”

“And she doesn’t?”

“She says not.”

“Do you believe her?”

“That’s what she says.”

“You know as well as I that sometimes what we say is not what we feel. Sometimes what we feel scares us. Ask yourself, what scares her?”

Harper opened her eyes and looked into her mother’s face. “One of the first things I noticed about her was how confident she seemed, how in control. I want to say nothing scares her, but I don’t think that’s true. I imagine not being in control scares her a lot.”

Ida nodded. “That makes sense. Although I don’t see you as one to take away anyone’s control, at least not under ordinary circumstances.”

“This is a very embarrassing conversation.”

Ida smiled and continued to massage her shoulders. “I noticed she didn’t talk much about family.”

“Her parents are business tycoons, like her. She’s got a brother, a twin, but she doesn’t mention him much.”

“That’s unusual, don’t you think?”

“Yes, but it never occurred to me any of that would have anything to do with what was happening between us.”

Ida shook her head. “For my oldest, you still have a lot to learn. Family is what makes us who we are, Harper. What we get and what we don’t get from them. Family teaches us what to expect, or what not to expect, in life. And what to be afraid of.”

“Maybe I don’t think about that because family has always been everything to me.”

Her mother kissed her forehead. “Well, you give it some thought. You’re smarter than you look right at this moment.”

Harper tried to grin. “Mama?”

Her mother laid out a dish towel on the counter. “Yes, baby?”

“Do you resent Dad for not being here a lot when we were all little?”

“Resent him?” Her mother pulled a glass from the dishwater and ran it under tap water. “No, I don’t resent him. Was it hard? Sometimes, terribly.” She dried the glass and carefully set it down. “But I’ve always loved your father, and being a doctor’s who he is.” She picked up another glass. “You have to love the person for who they are, even when it hurts.”

*

Presley jerked awake on the front porch at the sound of tires crunching on the gravel. The sun hung low in the sky as Carrie parked and came up the path with her softball gear slung over her shoulder. She deposited her equipment by the door, dropped into the other rocking chair next to Presley’s, and slowly started to rock.

“How did the game go?” Presley asked, striving for normalcy when she felt anything but normal. She’d not only left work early but actually taken a nap, although unintentionally.

“We won, three to two. It was a tough game.”

“Did you pitch?”

“The last half.”

“I’m glad you won.”

“Me too, especially after losing Harper in the seve—”

“What do you mean,” Presley said sharply. “Losing Harper? Did she have an emergency?”

She immediately thought of Jimmy, although of course Harper had hundreds of patients and any of them could have called. Still, Jimmy was the patient she knew, and the patient who would challenge Harper on every level.

“Oh, no. Not a patient. She got hit with the ball and had to come out of the game.”

Presley’s pulse rate rocketed, and her stomach slowly twisted into a knot. “Was she hurt?”

“Flann isn’t sure. She might’ve cracked her jaw.”

Presley sat up straight, stopping the rocking motion of her chair with both feet flat on the floor. “Where is she? The Rivers?”

“What? The hospital? No. Flann took her to their parents’. I don’t know if she’s still there or not.”

“Then how does Flann know she’s not injured seriously?”

“Well, Flann looked at her jaw—”

“Oh, and she has X-ray eyes now? What is wrong with these people? Haven’t they ever heard of modern diagnostic measures?”

Carrie stared at her. “Harper’s fine, Presley. She’s probably going to have a huge bruise on her jaw, but she’s all right.”

Presley forced her breathing to settle. What was wrong with her? Harper had plenty of people to take care of her. But she couldn’t help wishing she’d been there. “Of course she is. I know that. I was just—curious.”

“Uh-huh.”

Presley took in the small smile and the sound of self-satisfaction in Carrie’s voice. Her ire swelled. “It’s nothing to me if Harper Rivers ends up with a black-and-blue mark.”

“Of course not.”

“Good, then that’s settled,” Presley said. She should’ve gone to the game. She’d fallen asleep sitting here thinking about the game, imagining Harper at bat, her shoulders and forearms bunching as she swung. Imagined Harper out in the field, her jaw tight with concentration as she fielded the ball. Harper was very good. Harper was outrageously sexy. Harper made her skin tingle. Damn her. “I can’t believe she let a ball get to her.”

“I got the feeling,” Carrie said, treading carefully, “that she wasn’t really mentally in the game. I think this afternoon’s meeting threw her off.”

“I’m sorry about that.” Presley sighed. Harper wasn’t the only one thrown by the meeting. “But it had to be done.”

“What would happen if you presented Preston with a totally different scenario. One in which the Rivers doesn’t die?”

“It’s not just about Preston. I can’t take risks with the shareholders’ money. And…”

“And?”

Presley sighed. “I need to deliver this project on time and without major obstacles if I’m going to have any hope of taking over from my father. I need to lock in the support of key people, and I can do that by demonstrating I can get the job done quickly and efficiently. This job, any job. And by showing I can be ruthless when I need to be when profits are at stake.”

“What do you think would happen to Preston’s position if you turned this place around and it made a profit again?”

“That would take a miracle,” Presley said, “and I’m fresh out of those.”

Chapter Twenty-six

Presley closed the file, shut her laptop, and swung her desk chair around to face the window. The bright sunny day did little to lighten her mood. The numbers didn’t look any different now than they had on Friday. The weekend had dragged, and she’d finally driven to the hospital to look at some of the data Carrie had pulled together for her, hoping the change of scenery would distract her from thinking about Harper. It hadn’t.

A heavy sensation tugged at her with every breath. Summer bloomed with inexorable beauty, as if mocking her burgeoning unhappiness. Usually when she was lost in the numbers, she didn’t think about anything else—but not today. Today thoughts of Harper pulled at her, and she’d catch herself wondering if Harper’s jaw was giving her trouble, or simply missing her and wishing they could escape for a few hours to the tree house, where the world was reduced to a lazy river flowing by, the flutter of young green leaves, and an impossibly blue sky. She imagined lying on the worn sofa flanked by handmade bookshelves with her head on Harper’s shoulder, listening to the birds, a world apart. A world of their own.

She shook her head. When had she become so foolish? That was Harper’s world, not hers. They shared something, though—they shared the Rivers, and she was about to destroy that. How could Harper—either of them—ever have imagined they could be anything other than adversaries? Still, she’d tried again today to find some other path. Carrie might have been on to something with the urgent care network, or as things stood currently, the lack of any centralization of the scattered facilities, but without an immediate infusion of funds, she couldn’t justify the time and money it would take to build a strong referral base. Nor could she justify the risk to the shareholders. If she went back to SunView and proposed they put more money into the Rivers when she’d come here for a quick turnaround and a nice profit to show in the quarterly shareholders’ report, she’d lose the support of half of management. And not just on this issue, but on the matter of succession.

Still, the potential in Carrie’s figures nagged at her. Potential was what made the game so exciting. Turning potential into profit was what she was good at.

Maybe all she needed was a little distance, a little perspective, and a fresh look at the big picture. She locked her office and walked to the cafeteria for coffee and a late lunch. Somehow the day had gotten away from her, for which she was grateful. If she worked a few more hours here she could avoid coming in the next day. Avoid running into Harper.

As she carried her coffee to her favorite table by the window, she spied Emmy Reynolds coming through the line, seeming to ponder the food as if she didn’t recognize any of it. When she’d stood for at least a minute in front of one of the hot food selections, apparently not hearing the question put to her by the food service employee, Presley set down her tray and walked over to her.

“Mrs. Reynolds?”

Emmy Reynolds stared at Presley through blank, exhausted eyes. Her hair appeared clean but tangled. She wore no makeup. Circles ringed her puffy lower lids.

Presley touched her arm. “I’m sure you don’t remember me. I’m Presley Worth. I was with Harper the night your son Jimmy was admitted to the hospital.”

Emmy started and life returned to her eyes. “Oh yes. I’m sorry. I do remember you now.”

“How is Jimmy doing?”

“He was doing really well, everyone said,” Emmy blurted. “Then just this morning he developed a fever. It might be nothing”—she rushed on, picking at a loose thread on her sweater, tugging it and twirling it around her index finger—“but they’re having trouble getting it down and Harper said Jimmy might need…if he doesn’t improve…” Her voice choked off and tears filled her eyes.

“Why don’t you sit down and let me bring you something to eat. Is your husband here with you?”

“Don? Oh, no. He’s home with Darla, our youngest.” She looked away. “One of us tries to be here all the time, but it’s hard with the farm, and we can’t leave Darla for too long. Scary for her.” Her gaze came back to Presley. “If we weren’t so close to the hospital, I don’t know what we’d do.”

Presley thought of the hour drive to the nearest medical center and remembered the worn farmhouse surrounded by fields and machinery and animals, of the life that needed tending and a boy who needed his parents by his side. “Go sit down now—I’ll bring you something to eat.”

Emmy did as Presley suggested and Presley brought her a plate of food, a glass of milk, and some juice. “I’m betting coffee has been your main staple for the last few weeks. So I brought you something else.”

Emmy laughed faintly and a tiny bit of color came back to her cheeks. She picked up the milk. “You’re right and thank you.”

“Is there anything I can do?”

“No, thank you. Carson has been helping with the paperwork for the financial assistance we need for the medical bills, and Harper is taking care of everything else. There are lots of doctors looking after Jimmy, but Harper is the one we count on. She hasn’t left Jimmy all day. She’ll make sure everything that needs to be done is done.”

“Yes, I’m certain she will,” Presley said, as sure as Emmy.

Emmy ate a few bites of meatloaf and set down her fork. “They’re saying the hospital might close.”

Presley wasn’t surprised the rumor mill was churning. “That’s not something you need to worry about now.”

“You’re in charge of all that, right?”

“Yes, I am.” Presley had never had to face the individuals impacted by SunView’s policies in such a personal way. They had PR people who handled that at community meetings and the like. A wave of disquiet passed through her.

“I hope you can find a way so that doesn’t happen. We need this place.”

“Yes, I understand that.” Presley pushed back her chair. “I’ll let you finish in peace. I hope Jimmy is feeling better soon.”

“Thank you,” Emmy said softly.

*

When Rooster crowed at barely dawn, Presley rolled over and immediately thought of Harper. Was she still at the hospital? Was Jimmy better? How was Harper dealing with a boy so like the sister she had lost to the same disease? Harper. The ache of missing her left her hollow.

She got up, showered, and tried to settle into her morning routine. She failed. She couldn’t keep pretending none of this mattered—this place, these people, this woman.

When she pulled into the hospital staff lot, Harper’s truck was in the same spot it had been in when Presley had left fourteen hours before. Of course, Harper could be making early rounds and just happened to park in the same place, but something told her the explanation wasn’t so simple. As she hurried into the hospital, she debated what to do. In the end the decision was easy.

She turned in the opposite direction from her office and toward the pediatric intensive care unit. The unit was small, only four rooms. Two were occupied. Jimmy Reynolds was in bed number four. Presley didn’t go in, but the low lights inside were enough to see by. A man slept with his head on the bed. Don Reynolds. Only Jimmy’s head and shoulders were visible. He looked like a doll beneath the sheets, so small and fragile surrounded by monitors and equipment. The scene was heartbreaking and horrifying, and one she would never be able to erase. How many scenes just like this had Harper witnessed? Her throat closed. Where was she?

A woman in scrubs came up to her. “Can I help you?”

“Yes, I’m sorry. I’m Presley Worth. I’m—”

The woman smiled fleetingly. “Yes, Ms. Worth. I know who you are. I’m the charge nurse. Were you looking for someone?”

“Is Harper here?”

The nurse shook her head, a faintly wry expression on her face. “Believe it or not, she finally left. I told her she was too damn tired to drive, so hopefully she’s taking a nap in one of the on-call rooms.”

“The on-call rooms? Where—”

“Around the corner and down the hall. One’s marked surgery and the other medicine. Usually no one’s in there.”

“How’s Jimmy?”

The nurse sighed. “The fever’s better, but his white count is just about zero. Any kind of infection now…” She glanced into Jimmy’s room, her expression compassionate. “He’s got nothing left to fight with.”

Dread tightened around Presley’s heart. She couldn’t imagine how Don and Emmy must feel. Anger followed close behind the terror. How could this happen? What kind of justice was there in the world where an innocent child… She cut off the fruitless rumination. There were no answers to questions like that. All that could be done was to fight.

“Thank you.” Presley quickly walked away.

A minute later, she stood in front of the door marked medical on-call room, pondering whether to knock. If Harper was sleeping, she shouldn’t bother her. If she was awake, she had no cause to disturb her either. She had no reason to be there at all beyond her need to see Harper, to somehow help. On the other side of the door, a phone rang and then a voice murmured for a few seconds.

When silence fell once more, Presley tapped on the door.

“Who is it?” Harper’s voice was rough and hoarse.

“Harper, it’s Presley. I’m sorry—”

The door opened and Harper stared out at her. She wore a rumpled shirt, and her stethoscope no longer hung around her neck. Her eyes were bloodshot, her face slack. She looked like she’d lost a dozen pounds. The left side of her jaw was swollen and discolored.

“God,” Presley whispered, gently touching the bruise. “That looks awful.”

“Hi.” Harper’s smile was lopsided and just as devastating as ever.

Presley laughed shakily. “Hi. Sorry. You’re trying to sleep, aren’t you?”

“Don’t think I can.”

“Let me drive you home.”

Harper shook her head. “I need to be here in case Jimmy—”

“You can’t take care of him if you’re falling apart. The nurse said he’s stable right now.”

“You checked? How did you know he was in trouble?”

Presley’s face flamed. “I saw his mother yesterday and she told me he was having a rough time. And then I saw your truck and I thought—anyhow…” She took Harper’s hand. “Please let me take you home. Let me take care of you for a change.”

Harper’s shoulders sagged. “You know what? That would be good.”

Presley linked her arm through Harper’s on the way out to her car, almost afraid if she let go, Harper would drift away. As Presley drove, Harper dropped her head back against the seat and closed her eyes. Weariness washed off her in waves. Presley reached over and took her hand, needing the contact. Harper’s fingers threaded through hers.

Presley turned carefully into Harper’s drive, trying not to wake her, and slowed by the back porch. “We’re here.”

Harper opened her eyes. “Thank you.”

“You need to be in bed.”

Harper smiled faintly. “I need breakfast, I think.” Her lids slowly closed.

Presley eased out of the car, came around to open the passenger door, and gently shook Harper’s shoulder. “Harper? Come on. Let’s get you inside.”

Harper followed without resistance. Presley circled her waist and together they walked in the back door, through the house, and upstairs. The bedroom looked as it had before, neat and orderly and very much Harper. She’d made her bed. Of course she had. When Harper made no move to get into bed, Presley pulled down the sheets. When she turned, Harper was watching her with an expression Presley remembered all too well. Harper had looked at her that way in bed, when she’d been inside her. As if Presley were everything and all that mattered.

“I’ve imagined you back here in my bed,” Harper said quietly. “A thousand times.”

Presley swallowed around the lump in her throat. “Come on. You need some sleep.”

“If I said I needed you—”

Presley pressed her fingers to Harper’s mouth. “Shh. Not now.”

Carefully, Presley unbuttoned Harper’s shirt, helped her shrug it off, and tugged at the white tank underneath. She opened Harper’s trousers and dragged down the zipper. “Get these off and climb into bed.”

Harper braced one hand on Presley’s shoulder, pushed her pants down, and kicked them off along with her shoes. She stood naked, unself-conscious. Harper was beautiful, her throat and arms tanned golden all over, her chest and breasts and belly a creamy beige.

Presley cast desperately about for something to take her focus off Harper’s body. She trembled to touch her. “Should I get you something for your jaw?”

“You could kiss it and make it better.”

“You’re half-dead on your feet, but”—Presley leaned forward, careful not to brush against Harper’s nudity, and kissed the bruise on her cheek—“there. Now, bed.”

Harper dropped onto the bed. Presley pulled the sheet over her and smoothed back her hair. Harper’s eyes were already closing.

“Get some sleep. Sweet dreams.”

Harper’s eyes opened, startlingly clear. “I hope I dream of you.”

Presley’s heart clutched painfully. Leaving her was the hardest thing she’d ever done.

Chapter Twenty-seven

Presley’s cell rang a little before six that evening. The readout said private caller, and half expecting a wrong number, she answered absently. “Presley Worth.”

“Presley, it’s Harper.”

Presley rose from the top step where she’d been sitting with a glass of wine, as if standing would somehow give her more control over the excitement surging through her. “You’re awake, although I have no idea how or why. Feeling better?”

“Enormously. I owe you—”

“No, you don’t.” Presley leaned against the porch rail, warmed by the sound of Harper’s voice. Rooster stopped scratching in the dirt where she’d thrown some fruit scraps and eyed her with his small black bead of an eye, as if sensing something important had just happened. Could he tell her blood was racing? “What can I do for you?”

Harper laughed and Presley flushed. Even over the phone Harper’s voice woke something hungry inside her, a delicious hunger she hadn’t known before.

“Ah—” Presley hadn’t been so tongue-tied since the first time a girl in high school had asked her for a date. Come to think of it, not even then. “I’m sorry. You were saying?”

“I was wondering if we could meet in the morning. There’s something I’d like to discuss.”

“I can’t.”

“Later in the day, then—”

“Harper, I’m flying to Phoenix tomorrow.”

“Phoenix…” Harper was silent. “Are you leaving?”

“Not just yet,” Presley said, sadness softening her voice.

“Tonight? Can I stop by? I know it’s unorthodox and probably an inconvenience—”

Presley half laughed, half sighed. “Harper, really. I think at this point we can dispense with the formality. If you want to talk, by all means come by. Have you eaten?”

“Not yet.”

“Then come over now. Lila left cornbread and stew that smells delicious. I was just about to eat.”

“That’s hardly necessary, considering I’m barging in on your evening.”

“It’s fine. Please.”

“All right. I’ll be there in about fifteen minutes.”

Presley disconnected. Fifteen minutes. She looked at the shapeless jeans and plain gray T-shirt she’d thrown on to feed the barn kittens and clean up their corner of the barn. Well, that would never do. She sprinted inside, left her wineglass on the kitchen table, and hurried to the stairs. Carrie was just coming down dressed in her softball gear.

“Coming to the game after all?” Carrie asked.

“Harper’s coming over. Impromptu meeting.”

Carrie’s eyes narrowed. “Here? Must be important. Do you need me?”

“No. You go ahead.”

“I guess Harper won’t be at the game.” Carrie sighed. “There goes my night.”

Presley stopped in the middle of the stairs and stared. “Harper?” she said carefully, fighting the strangest urge to growl. “I didn’t realize you—”

“Teasing, Presley. Teasing.” Carrie laughed. “I don’t have designs on her, and if I had given it a thought—well, I suppose when I first saw her, the thought crossed my mind, I’m sure it crosses every eligible woman’s mind for a few seconds—I certainly wouldn’t be thinking it now. Not when she’s got your scent all over her.”

“I’m sorry?”

“Just a figure of speech, but she’s a marked woman. She just doesn’t know it yet. And neither, apparently, do you.”

“You do realize you’re not making any sense.”

Carrie continued downstairs. “I’m making perfect sense, and you’d understand what I’m talking about if you’d stop trying to talk yourself out of it.”

Presley held up a hand. “I don’t have time for cryptic conversation. Have a good game. Be careful.”

“I will.” Carrie paused at the bottom of the stairs. “Hey, Presley?”

“Yes?”

“You’ve never had any trouble leaving your mark at SunView. Maybe you should try that here.”

Presley nodded as if she understood and hurried to her room. In her bedroom, she quickly pulled on black pants and a short-sleeved cobalt-blue shirt, slipped into loafers, and gave her hair a quick brush. After a glance in the mirror, she threw on enough makeup to make her look like she’d been sleeping far better than she had been. She was downstairs in the kitchen when Harper’s truck came down the drive. A few minutes later footsteps on the back porch announced her presence. Presley tried valiantly to ignore the rapid pounding of her heart, but it was hard when the knock came on the screen door and she saw her there, backlit by the setting sun. Something that had been swirling around inside her, uneasy and unsettled, floated into place. For the first time in days, her world brightened.

“Hi,” Presley said, unable to hide the eagerness in her tone. And why should she? She was glad to see her and pretending otherwise was akin to lying. She wouldn’t do that—not after what they had shared. “Come in.”

Harper wore dark jeans and a red polo shirt. Some of the fatigue had disappeared from her face, and even with faint smudges beneath her eyes, she was sexier than most women who’d just walked out of a high-end spa. The purple welt on the left side of her jaw wasn’t sexy, though. Presley winced inwardly and imagined how much that must have hurt when it was fresh. She stifled the urge to stroke the spot. “Sleep all right?”

“Yes.” Harper grinned and set a folder on the counter. “Would have been better if you’d stayed.”

Presley’s face warmed. “Somehow I doubt that.”

“Memory problems? I seem to remember the night went pretty well the last time we shared a bed.”

“Are you channeling your charmer of a sister now?” Presley said, trying to sound stern, secretly pleased Harper hadn’t forgotten that night.

Harper’s eyes took on an interesting shade of blue-gray, rather like the storm clouds that blew in on a hot afternoon. “What has Flann been up to? Because if she’s been charming you—”

“She hasn’t,” Presley said, stirred by the heat in Harper’s gaze. When had any woman ever looked at her like that? As if she were desirable—more than desirable, essential. She tried to steady her breathing so her voice wouldn’t shake. “I’m just not used to you flirting quite so—”

“No? I’ll have to remedy that.” Harper took a step, gripped her arms, and tugged her close.

The kiss came out of nowhere—a bolt of lightning that set Presley’s nerves on fire. She gasped and clutched Harper’s shoulders. Harper’s eyes flashed and Presley parted her lips when Harper demanded entrance. The kiss went on and on, stealing her breath, making her thighs weak. She leaned into Harper, her breasts crushed to Harper’s chest. Wanting simmered deep inside, and she moaned.

Harper drew back a fraction, still holding her. “How am I doing?”

“What?” Presley asked numbly. She slipped her fingers beneath Harper’s collar and caressed her neck. “I’ve lost track of what—”

“Good,” Harper murmured against her mouth. “I want you to stop thinking of anything except me when I kiss you.”

“That’s the trouble.” Presley nibbled at Harper’s lower lip, teased along the inner edge with her tongue. She tasted so good, felt so right. God, she wanted her. She tried to make her mind work. “I don’t think when you’re around. And you’re not making sense.”

“Yes, I am,” Harper said, “finally. And you should be flirted with, regularly. By me.”

Presley kissed Harper’s throat, pressed her mouth to the bounding pulse. “Yes. I think I’d like that.”

Harper slipped her hand under the back of Presley’s shirt and stroked the hollow just above her ass. “Are we alone?”

“Yes.” Presley swayed, pushed her pelvis into Harper’s. “No.”

“We’re not alone?” Harper flicked the top of Presley’s shirt aside and kissed her chest. “I passed Carrie coming in. Who else is here?”

“No one.” Presley closed her eyes. Harper’s mouth was all she knew—everywhere, inside her, turning her flesh to fire. She was losing her mind. Pressing both palms to Harper’s chest she leaned back. “You said you wanted to talk.”

“Did,” Harper muttered, fingertips tracing Presley’s spine lightly. “Do. Later. Let’s go to bed.”

She wanted to. Oh, how she wanted to. And then where would they be—another morning when she’d have to leave, and everything still unsettled between them. “I have to go to Phoenix in the morning.”

“You said that already.” Harper stilled, her mouth against Presley’s throat. “Why?”

“I present the finding on the Rive…ACH.” Presley’s heart broke a little feeling Harper pull away. Somehow she’d ended up with her back against the counter and Harper’s weight pinning her there. She couldn’t escape. She should want to, but she didn’t.

“Before you go anywhere,” Harper said, “there’s something I need to say.”

“I know,” Presley said. “You said on the phone—”

“Not business. Personal.” Harper cupped her chin, captured her gaze. “We have something special between us—something I don’t want to lose.”

Presley tensed. No, no, no. This was not a good idea. The words caught in her throat. Part of her, a very large part of her, waited, wanting Harper to say it again.

“I wasn’t thinking very far ahead—” Harper grimaced wryly. “I wasn’t thinking at all, really, when we tumbled into bed together, but I knew I wanted to. Wanted you, more than I ever wanted any woman before—”

“God, Harper, this is crazy.”

Harper went on as if she hadn’t heard. “Not just because you’re quite possibly, no, absolutely, the most beautiful and desirable woman I’ve ever seen—”

“Harper—”

“I wanted you, I think, from the first second I saw you in the hall outside the emergency room. You looked so damn cool and composed and above it all. I like that about you. Nothing is ever going to get you rattled.”

“You rattle me,” Presley whispered, running her fingers through Harper’s hair. “You have from the first.”

“Good.” Harper’s eye’s glinted. “I know you’re not unshakeable, but I know nothing is going to make you break and run either. This morning you were there when I needed you. I need that, knowing I can lean when I need to, and it will be all right.”

Presley trembled and fought the urge to run out the back door. “Oh God, Harper, I’m not who you think—”

Harper swept her thumb over Presley’s lips. “You know what? I think you might not be who you think you are.”

Presley frowned. Harper still held her close, and she’d forgotten to try to get free. “I know exactly who I am. I’ve always known exactly who I am and what I wanted. I know that’s hard to believe, because it’s so different than what you want—”

“Is it? I’ve always wanted to do the work that gave me pleasure and made me feel like I was doing something worthwhile. I wanted to make my parents proud. I wanted to take care of the people I loved. That’s not that much different than you.”

Presley shook her head. “That’s a million light-years away from me. I do what I do because it gives me satisfaction, yes. I also do it because it’s expected of me, and it’s the only thing that the people I care about respect. I want that respect and the love—” She bit her lip. “Not love perhaps, but what passes for love anyway. Success is the key to getting those things in my world. As to taking care of the people I love? I wouldn’t know where to begin, and I doubt they would either.”

“You know. You’ve been taking care of me. Emmy told me how you took care of her.”

“Emmy? How…”

“This afternoon when I checked in on Jimmy.”

“Did you sleep at all?”

Harper kissed her chin. “Yes, and don’t change the subject.”

“I’m not—”

“You’re trying.” Harper kissed her again, leaning into her—her body hot and hard and possessive.

“I wish you wouldn’t do that,” Presley murmured.

“Why?”

“I can’t think.”

“Good. I don’t want you to go to Phoenix.”

“I have to.”

“Why?”

“Because…” Presley ordered her brain to focus. “Because I have to finish this. I’m sorry.”

“What happens to us when it’s done?” Harper asked, finally stepping back and letting her breathe.

I’ll come back, but will you still want me, after what I have to do? Presley shook her head, her soul bleeding. “I don’t know.”

“Read the proposal,” Harper said, gesturing to the folder.

“I will, but I can’t promise—”

“I don’t want you to promise.” Harper stepped back. “Not about that.”

“I thought you wanted to talk,” Presley said quickly as Harper headed for the door. She was seconds from begging her not to leave. She clenched her jaw, afraid if the need came pouring out, she’d drown.

“You can discuss what’s going to happen to the Rivers with my father when you come back.” Harper pushed the door open, her expression so intense Presley shuddered. “Come find me if you want to talk about us.”

Chapter Twenty-eight

“I saw your truck in the drive,” Flann said as she poked her head through the hatch in the tree house. “Are you hiding out or is company allowed?”

Harper turned her head and regarded her sister. She’d been lying on the sofa staring at the ceiling, she wasn’t sure how long. She might’ve slept a little but she wasn’t positive about that either. The hollow ache in her stomach reminded her she hadn’t had breakfast, and from the angle of the sun coming through the window, it must be going on nine a.m. Presley was probably in the air already, well on her way to Phoenix.

“Come in if you want to,” Harper said.

Flann climbed up and sat on the crate in front of Harper. “I heard you had a tough one with Jimmy again last night.”

“Yeah—he spiked a temp again. But if nothing changes, I think we might have turned the corner this morning.” She’d just left Presley’s when she’d gotten the call that Jimmy was looking worse. She’d driven straight to the hospital and spent the rest of the night conferring with the hematologists and infectious disease specialists about the best antibiotic regimen. “We’re about out of options if the drugs don’t work this time.”

“Bone marrow transplant?” Flann asked.

“We’ve been holding off making the call, hoping the chemo would’ve cleared his marrow and he’d start regenerating. Then last night, it looked like he was gonna go the other way.”

“You’ve been there most of the weekend, haven’t you?”

“The last few nights.” Harper rubbed her face. “Why is it nights are always the hardest? No wonder all those myths always have the Grim Reaper showing up in the middle of the night to collect souls. Are we just more vulnerable then?”

Flann sighed. “Jesus, Harp—don’t go all metaphysical on me.” She paused, her expression distant and dark, a rare glimpse beneath her mask of casual indifference. “Maybe it’s just that we’re all afraid of the dark—too many ghosts.”

“Maybe,” Harper said quietly.

“What else happened?”

“What do you mean?”

“If you’re winning with Jimmy, or at least holding the line, there’s got to be some other reason you look like your dog died.”

“Me, my dogs, and all the other animals are just fine.”

“Woman problems, then. What’s happened now?”

“Nothing. Let it go.”

“Last night at the game, Carrie mentioned Presley was headed to Phoenix today.”

Harper contemplated throttling her. “Did you come down here just to annoy me?”

“I’ll go and let you sulk as soon as you tell me what put the burr in your saddle.”

“Presley.”

“Well, yeah. I got that part.”

“Every time I think I’m getting closer, she gets further away.” Harper’s skin still burned from the memory of Presley pressed against her. Every time she wasn’t totally absorbed in making a medical decision, her entire being was consumed with wanting Presley—and her absence left her starving. She shuddered. God damn it.

Flann snorted. “That’s appropriately vague, and considering the subject, probably accurate. Try small sentences with simple words. What. Happened?”

Harper sighed. “Presley seems to think we don’t have anything in common.”

“Probably because you don’t.”

Harper shot up straight on the sofa. “That’s bullshit. We’re part of the same world, we’re just coming at it from slightly different directions. She understands what I do. And even though I don’t always like it, I understand what she does.”

“Same world, maybe—different continents. Come on, Harp. You’re on opposite sides on this. The two of you couldn’t be further apart.”

“No, that’s just the thing. We should be, but we’re not.” Harper recalled opening the on-call room door and finding Presley outside in the hall, how grateful she’d been to let someone she trusted take charge for just a little while. She didn’t have to hide how scared she was, how the fear of losing Jimmy Reynolds was eating her alive. Presley knew. “She—gets me. Gets what I do, what I need.”

“Uh-oh. That sounds bad.”

“It wouldn’t be, if she’d just let herself believe it.”

“Maybe she doesn’t feel the same way,” Flann said with a gentleness she rarely showed to anyone other than her patients.

Harper braced her elbows on her knees and put her face in her hands. Maybe Presley really didn’t feel what she felt, the connection, the understanding, the desire. Maybe it was one-sided and she’d been deluding herself the whole time. “I guess that’s possible. I guess when you want something so bad, it blinds you to what’s real.”

“Crap,” Flann muttered. “Look, what exactly did you tell her? Did you use the L-word?”

Harper almost laughed. “What are we, in high school now? No, I didn’t tell her I loved her.”

“But? I hear a great big fat but at the end of that sentence.”

“But I do. I don’t even have to think about it. It just is.” Harper rubbed the spot in the center of her chest that hurt every time she took a breath. It wasn’t a physical ache, this longing in her soul for the sight and sound of the one person who filled the empty spaces inside, but every bit as real…and agonizing. “She fits. She fills me.”

“Yeah, and she’s smoking hot too.”

“You keep it up, and I might throw you out the hatch headfirst.”

“Are you sure it’s not just that? That, you know, you’re thinking with your hormones? You wouldn’t be the first.”

Harper shook her head. “You might be a sucker for a hot body, but I’m not. I don’t work that way. Sure, she’s gorgeous and I want her, but there’s always been more than that.”

“This is sounding worse and worse.”

“It isn’t, at least it wouldn’t be if I knew that she cared. That I wasn’t alone in all of this.”

Flann shrugged. “Okay, fine. Then you need a plan. What exactly did she say?”

“That she won’t talk about anything between us until things at the hospital are settled.”

“That makes sense. Things will get rough if she closes the place. A lot of people will have hard feelings. That’s gonna make any kind of relationship twice as hard. Maybe you should just wait—”

“Wait? For what?” Harper jumped to her feet and paced in the small space, circling the oak. “Until life is easy? Until there are no obstacles, no challenges? There will always be those things. I know what she does, and I understand the decision that she’s made. I might not agree with it, but I understand it.”

“Harper,” Flann said sharply, rising too, pacing in the rest of the space so they barely had enough room to pass one another. “Think about it. If she closes the Rivers, how are you ever going to resolve that between you? The Rivers is everything to you. Always has been.”

Harper abruptly stopped. “You’re right. It has been. Past tense. I understand now that the Rivers isn’t everything and can never make me completely happy. Maybe you’re right, maybe Dad should’ve tried to balance things better—”

“Bullshit,” Flann said. “I was wrong to criticize him. He wasn’t alone in making the decisions. Mom is no pushover. If she’d wanted something different, she would’ve seen to it.”

“Maybe.” Harper recalled the conversation she’d had in the kitchen with her mother. “And maybe she just understood that that’s what he needed.”

“What do you need, Harper? Do you know?”

“I always thought I did. I wanted a life like Mom and Dad’s. I wanted to be as good a doctor as Dad. I wanted to be important to people in the community, to be part of their lives. I didn’t realize that even if I had all of those things, I would never be happy if I was still alone.”

“And Presley is the one?”

“I want her. I need her in my life.”

Flann sighed. “Well, sitting around up here isn’t going to get that done.”

Harper grinned. “Finally, we agree.”

*

As Presley’s plane circled Detroit, she closed her laptop and stowed it in her computer bag under the seat. She flipped open the file folder on her lap and reread the few pages. Harper had been busy. As it stood, Harper’s proposal to affiliate ACH with the Albany Medical School and RPI’s combined BS-MD program to train medical students and residents in community-oriented specialties like family medicine and geriatrics was intriguing, but it wasn’t enough. Harper was correct in concluding that such an association would bring in federal funding for every student and resident they trained, but it would be too little too late. They’d need more staff to run the program, for one thing. Student housing, more insurance. She rubbed her eyes. In all likelihood the initial investment to get the programs up and running would offset any new sources of revenue, at least for a few years. For long-range planning, the idea had promise, but it was not the salvation the Rivers needed.

She couldn’t see any way to make it work. She’d give anything if things were different, but they weren’t. That was the easy answer and the easy out for her. She’d tried, but the Rivers was beyond saving. Only each time she came to the same conclusion, the less happy she was about it. She kept seeing Emmy Reynolds’s terrified eyes and Harper’s bone-deep fatigue, and knew neither woman would ever quit. Emmy and Harper were warriors, and the community was filled with them—ordinary people fighting every day for the ones they loved. Harper would keep fighting to save the Rivers until the padlock went on the gates, and she’d come to Presley for help. Presley was failing her, and the failure was a bitter ache in her heart.

The plane taxied to the gate and Presley thought of the next few hours when she’d finally be home. She had her own fight in Phoenix. That was her battleground, and it was time for her to marshal her forces and take the fight to Preston. She wondered why the idea of winning what she’d wanted all her life left her feeling so empty.

Chapter Twenty-nine

Presley stopped at her condo on her way through the city to SunView’s headquarters. The two-bedroom apartment in one of the most sought after high-rises was clean and orderly—she had a service come in weekly whether she was in town or not—but the air smelled artificially pure with the faintest undertone of chemicals she’d never noticed before. Floor-to-ceiling windows overlooked the city skyline, affording her a million-dollar view that held none of the pulse of life she was used to seeing out the leaded-glass panes of her hospital office window. No birds nesting, no branches fluttering, no flowers in bloom. There were planters along some of the avenues and elaborate window boxes on the fronts of many upscale boutiques, but the cityscape was one of concrete and glass rather than living plants and beings, unless you counted the people, and then the city teemed with life—the identities and faces of passersby anonymous and unnamed. The doorman in her building was one of the few people she saw outside the office whose name she knew. Within a few weeks back in Argyle, she’d learned the names of everyone on Harper’s softball team, the nurses in the ER and many of the clinical areas, and the clerks at the gas station and mini-mart.

When she’d left Phoenix she couldn’t wait to return. Now she was here and felt like a visitor. Maybe the airplane really was a time machine and she’d just been hurled into a different world. She wasn’t sure she belonged here any longer, where success was measured in currency rather than inner satisfaction and where family meant status and obligation rather than support and loyalty and love.

Presley sighed. She might be straddling two worlds and fit in neither, but she was here now and she had a lot to finish. Resolutely, she put thoughts of Harper and the past—or future—aside. She showered off the fatigue and grime of travel, aware of the absence of the rattling pipes that usually accompanied her morning shower, dressed quickly in a skirt and jacket, stepped into medium heels, and relocated her papers and laptop into a briefcase that was coordinated with the outfit. As an afterthought, she slipped Harper’s proposal in along with the preliminary reallocation report she’d printed out to review with Preston and the other managers.

On her way to the elevator, she called down to have her car brought around to the entrance. The expansive marble lobby was empty and sterile feeling. Rooster would find nothing to eat here. She nodded to the doorman and hastened outside for a breath of air. The heat was a wall that slapped at her, and she hurriedly upped the AC in her Mercedes. At SunView, she parked in her reserved spot on the first level close to the elevators and keyed herself in with her ID card. She didn’t know the people in the elevator, and when she reached the executive level and walked through the central hall to her corner office, she passed only a handful of people who even knew she’d been gone. This had been her universe, her province, and now she was a stranger here too. Had she really been so rootless and never noticed?

Her desk was neat and orderly, just as she’d left it. She sat down, let the receptionist who handled calls when Carrie was away know she was in, and confirmed she had a meeting with Preston in an hour. She was about to call Jeff Cohen, her inside man, to catch up on the latest power moves among upper management, but stopped before she’d picked up her phone. She didn’t really care. The politics and personal agendas seemed shallow and petty to her now. But then, what made her any different than Preston? Her goals were the same as his—to one day head the company, to walk in her parents’ footsteps, to finally have them notice her, value her. Didn’t all children want to please their parents? She thought of Harper and Flann and Carson and Margie—individuals all and yet each confident in the pursuit of her goals. She didn’t doubt for a second, and neither did they, that they would be loved regardless of their choices, and not because they succeeded in something their parents valued. What did she value? What did she want?

She picked up her cell phone and quickly tapped in a number. The wait was interminable, but she knew it could only be a few seconds. She didn’t really expect an answer.

“Harper Rivers.”

“Harper,” Presley said, caught as she always was by the smoky timbre of Harper’s voice. She couldn’t think for a second why she had called. Hearing Harper’s voice suddenly seemed enough. Everything.

“Presley!” Harper’s voice warmed, heavy with pleasure. “Where are you?”

“At my desk. In Phoenix.”

“How was the trip?”

“No problem. How’s Jimmy?” Presley pictured Harper at the nurses’ station, leaning against the counter, sleeves rolled up, hair tousled, looking relaxed and confident. The image made her think of home.

“He’s looking good this afternoon.”

“Oh, that’s good news.”

“Are you okay?”

“Well, I—” Presley took in her surroundings again. “Yes. Fine. But I miss…a lot of things.”

“Me most of all, I hope.”

“Most assuredly,” Presley said, delighting at the playful note in Harper’s voice, “you most of all.”

“Good. I like when you miss me.”

The sexy tone was back, and Presley’s heart jumped. “Then you should be happy.”

“I will be when you’re back,” Harper said. “When will you be home?”

Home. She was already home, wasn’t she? Why didn’t it feel that way? The condo was more like a hotel room than home. Her parents’ home hadn’t been hers since she’d left to go to college, and even before that, it had been a little like living in a resort where her parents entertained between trips. This office was home, but the view when she looked out the window was of a land in which she had no place. “I’m not sure.”

“You are coming back, aren’t you?”

“Yes, of course.”

Harper sighed. “I really miss you.”

“I miss you too.”

“I’m glad you called. You beat me to it. There’s something I wanted to tell you.”

“I’ve read the proposal—”

“No, not that.” Muffled voices rose in the background and Harper murmured, “I’ll be right there.”

“I’m keeping you,” Presley said. “I’m sorry. I know this is your busy time—”

“Yes, but look, I’ve only got a minute…I want you to know no matter what happens, the way I feel about you, it’s not going to change, no matter what you do.”

Presley’s throat tightened. “How can you be sure?”

“Because that’s not how love works.”

Presley squeezed her cell phone, the blunt edges biting into her palm. “Harper. I’m not very good at this—”

“You’re great at it. Come back, and I’ll remind you.”

“All right…” Presley laughed, the sky opening inside her. “Yes, I will.”

“Hurry home,” Harper said. “I’ve got to go. Call me.”

Presley murmured good-bye, disconnected, and sat for a moment thinking of Harper, of family, of belonging. She had no reason to wait until her appointment with Preston. She gathered her papers and strode across the hall to his corner office opposite hers. She nodded to Marjorie, his personal assistant, and passed by without waiting for her to call in and announce her. She opened the inner door, walked through, and closed it. Her brother, tall, lean, tanned, and with the same sun-gold hair and blue eyes as hers, looked at her from behind his sleek glass-and-steel desk with the same cool appraisal that she often turned on others.

“I didn’t expect you back so soon,” Preston said.

“Really? There wasn’t all that much to do up there.”

“It’s all wrapped up, then, is it?”

And there it was. She could be done with it all, have a quick kill, and get back to the business of winning her father’s seat. Then she’d have everything she ever wanted. A month ago she wouldn’t have hesitated, and she didn’t now. She knew what she wanted.

She sat down in the chair in front of her brother’s desk and crossed her legs. “I think it’s time you and I came to terms.”

“Are you sure you want to do this now?” Preston steepled his hands beneath his chin in a delaying gesture very reminiscent of her father. He wasn’t her father, though. He wasn’t quite as quick, quite as ruthless, or quite as able to generate the same loyalty. That wasn’t her problem. She was quick and ruthless and she understood power.

Presley smiled in anticipation of the coming battle. “Quite sure. And long overdue.”

*

Harper woke at dawn to the sound of a car slowly crunching over the stones in her driveway. She checked out the window, saw Presley’s car, and quickly pulled on sweats and a T-shirt. She found her sitting on the top step, her shirt rumpled and her dark trousers uncharacteristically creased.

Harper sat down beside her. “I guess you flew all night.”

Presley leaned against her shoulder. “Yes. I’m afraid I look it too.”

“You look beautiful.” Harper wrapped an arm around her waist. “Been home yet?”

“In a way,” Presley said, her voice thoughtful.

Harper entwined their fingers and kissed the top of Presley’s hand. “Glad you came here. Nice way to wake up.”

Presley smiled, half-whimsical, half-wistful, and her eyes sparked. “I rather thought you liked waking up with me next to you even better.”

Harper’s belly tightened and a wave of lust momentarily short-circuited her brain. When she could draw breath, she sucked in air and let it out slowly. “I wouldn’t have minded if you’d come upstairs instead of stopping on the porch.”

“Really?”

Harper leaned forward and braced her arm on the railing, caging Presley with her back against the post. She kissed her long enough to bring Presley’s arms around her neck and a soft moan from her throat. When she pulled away, she whispered, “Really.”

“I could use a shower.”

“How about I wash your back.”

“How about you wash all of me.”

Harper tugged Presley up by the hand and pulled her close. Hunger clawed at her insides, and she kissed her again. Presley’s taste fed her craving. “I could live on you forever.”

“Let’s see you try.”

“Quick shower,” Harper muttered and hauled Presley laughing through the house. She found clean towels while the water was warming and by the time she stepped into the bathroom, Presley was naked under the spray. She yanked off her T-shirt and sweats and got in with her, crowding her up against the wall and kissing her again. When she cupped Presley’s ass, Presley pushed her away before she could get seriously involved.

“I want to be in bed when you make me come,” Presley said.

Groaning, Harper had to lock her knees to stay upright. “I’ll do anything you want. Anywhere, anytime.”

“Good.” Presley stroked two fingers along the edge of Harper’s jaw, down the center of her throat, and between her breasts. “That sounds perfect.”

Harper twitched. Presley’s voice was cool, calm, with the kind of control Harper had seen the first day. She loved Presley’s power, loved her fire, loved the command in her voice every bit as much as the softness of her mouth and the welcome of her body.

“I need you now.” Harper slowly slid to her knees and pressed her cheek to Presley’s middle. She closed her eyes. “Please. Don’t make me wait.”

Presley tugged her up with a fistful of hair and kissed her. Smiled. “I’m ready.”

Harper twisted off the water, grabbed a towel, and wrapped Presley in it. She quickly dried off and, naked, led her into the bedroom. She yanked down the covers the rest of the way, took Presley’s towel and tossed it toward the bathroom, and muttered, “Sheets are clean.”

Presley laughed. “I couldn’t care less as long as you’re in there with me.”

“I might never get out.”

Presley grabbed Harper’s hand and tumbled into the bed. They landed in a tangle of arms and legs, Harper on top. Presley moaned and wrapped her arms around Harper’s shoulders. Her mouth was close to Harper’s ear. “Inside me. Right now. I’ve been thinking about you there all night.”

Harper pushed up on one arm and slid the other between Presley’s legs, gliding into her in a long, smooth stroke. Presley cried out. Harper’s breath stopped. She thrust, slow and deep. Presley tightened around her, hot and slick. Harper’s heart thundered in her ears, the rush of blood through every cell as primal as the sea crashing to shore. The world condensed to the depths of Presley’s eyes as she filled her, again and again.

“God,” Presley gasped. Her neck arched and the tendons stood out on her neck. “I can’t…Harper!”

Deep inside, Harper roared in triumph.

Presley’s nails bit into her back. The sound of Presley’s pleasure stripped Harper bare and she crashed with her. She groaned, muscles locked as every nerve ignited. She buried her face in the curve of Presley’s shoulder and shuddered as the world disappeared.

“I thought I’d implode before I got here,” Presley murmured lazily a few minutes later. She stroked Harper’s hair, brushed her fingers over the sweat-dampened skin between her shoulder blades. “I love the way you make me come.”

Harper feared she wouldn’t be able to make words. She was fried, demolished. “Not…done.”

“That’s good.” Presley kissed Harper’s throat. “Harper?”

“Hmm?” Harper raised her head with Herculean effort. Presley was so beautiful she almost got lost in her again. The vulnerable look in Presley’s eyes drew her in. “What, baby?”

“I love you.”

Harper stilled. She’d heard the words before, but never like this. Never from the one woman she’d wanted to hear them from with all her heart. “I love you too. Totally out-of-my-mind in love with you.”

“I want you so much,” Presley whispered, “even though I know it’s a crazy idea.”

Harper tried to gather her wits. This was important. She needed to do this right. She pushed up on her elbows, kissed Presley, and gently framed her face. “Nothing crazy about us loving each other. It’s the most absolute right thing in the world.”

“I don’t fit, you know that.”

“My mother didn’t fit here either when she married my father, but she’s as much a part of this place, and this place of her, as anyone whose family has been here a hundred years. Do you love me enough for a lifetime?”

“What?” Presley asked faintly. Harper’s eyes burned into hers. Her hands were hot against her face, her body a furnace.

“Do you love me enough for forever?”

“Yes,” Presley answered instantly. “God, yes, I do.”

Harper smiled and the sun burst in her eyes. “Then you fit.”

“Don’t you want to know about the Rivers?”

Harper kissed her again. “Yes, but not now, not here. This is ours. Business can wait.”

“You might feel different—”

“No.” Harper brushed a thumb over her mouth. “I won’t. I told you that already. I know what you do and why. I understand.”

“Your father, your family—”

“I love them, more than almost anything. But you, you’re mine now, and I’m yours. Say yes.”

Presley caught her breath. “Say yes to what?”

“Say you’re mine.”

“I’m yours.” Presley knew it through every inch of her being. Tears trembled on her lashes. She’d never imagined the beauty of belonging like this and knew she would never want for anything as long as she had Harper. “Yes, I’m yours. I love you.”

“Then say you’ll marry me.”

“I…” Presley kissed Harper, as demanding and possessive as Harper had been just moments before. “Yes, I will. Of course I will.”

Harper threw back her head and laughed. “Yes. You will!”

Laughing too, Presley rolled her over and kissed her throat. Harper stilled as she kept kissing her, down the center of her chest and belly until she lay between her legs. She looked up and watched Harper watching her. “I’ve been thinking about this all night too.”

“Take your time,” Harper said, her voice husky.

“Oh, don’t worry, I plan to.” Presley kissed lightly between Harper’s legs, a satisfied purr rising from her throat as Harper twitched. “I’m going to enjoy taking what’s mine.”

Chapter Thirty

Harper called the big house a little after six. Her mother answered. “Mama, we need a family meeting.”

“What time?” Ida said.

“Breakfast?”

“Your father’s about to leave for the hospital. Flann is probably on her way there too. Is it important?”

“Yes.”

“Then I’ll get them here. Half an hour.”

“Thanks, Mama.”

“Are you all right, Harper?”

“Yes, Mama. I’m perfect.”

Silence sounded for a few seconds, and Ida said, “Will we need another chair at the table?”

“Yes.”

“All right then. Don’t be late.”

Harper set her cell aside. Presley leaned against the counter in nothing but a half-buttoned, faded blue cotton shirt she’d taken from Harper’s closet. She was drinking a cup of coffee, her hair a loose tangle that looked as if it had been finger-combed a dozen times, her face relaxed and her eyes ever so slightly hazy. Harper chuckled, a swell of contentment so potent overtaking her, her hands shook.

A crease formed between Presley’s brows. “What’s funny?”

“You look like you’ve just been fu—”

“Oh, aren’t you smug.”

“Uh-huh. I am feeling pretty pleased with myself.”

Presley set the cup down, unbuttoned Harper’s shirt, and let it drop on the floor. Harper suddenly couldn’t move her lips, her mouth was so dry.

“Think about that today.” Presley turned and walked toward the back door.

Harper lunged after her. “Jesus, Presley. You can’t walk out there like that.”

Presley grinned back over her shoulder. “Who’s going to see me out here?”

“How about the farmer who’s plowing the field next door?”

Presley jerked to a stop. “Where?”

“Just saying there might be someone—”

“I think I liked you better when you were all broody and quiet.”

Harper grinned. “Where’s your suitcase?”

“Backseat.”

“I’ll get it for you. In a minute.” She grabbed Presley and kissed her. She took her time, tasting her, imprinting the shape of her mouth, the softness of her lips, the playful stroke of her tongue. She absorbed the fullness of her breasts, the hard points of her nipples, the soft curve of her belly and firm length of her thighs. She caressed Presley’s ass, and Presley’s head fell back with a soft moan. Harper’s belly twisted. “I want you again right now.”

“I want you to take me right now,” Presley gasped. “Do we have time?”

“Ten minutes.”

Presley pushed Harper’s hand between her thighs. “Plenty of time.”

*

Harper pulled in behind Flannery’s Jeep, turned off the engine, and took Presley’s hand. “How are you doing?”

Presley shook her head slowly. “I’ve gone into boardrooms where I knew every single person was gunning for me without the slightest hesitation, without the least bit of nerves. The idea of walking into that kitchen fills me with terror.”

Harper laughed and leaned over to kiss her. “You can handle them.”

“Seriously, Harper.” Presley rubbed the tops of Harper’s fingers with her thumb. “This matters more to me than any merger, any acquisition, anything I’ve ever accomplished. This isn’t just about the Rivers. This is about us.”

“No, it isn’t,” Harper said. “We’re solid, no matter what you say in there.”

“I know what your family means to you.” Presley took in the homestead with its stately manor house, the lush green fields, and the wide river beyond the trees. This place was Harper’s touchstone, but the family gathered inside, waiting for them, was the heart from which she drew her strength. “I would never want to come between you and them.”

“You won’t. I promise.” Harper squeezed her hand. “It would never come to this, but if I had to, I would choose you. Here, anywhere we needed to go to be together. I would choose you.”

“I’ve gotten rather fond of the country, and of course, there’s Rooster to be considered,” Presley said around the love burning in her chest. The tears pushed forward again.

“Can’t leave him,” Harper said, brushing the droplets from Presley’s lashes with a thumb.

“So we’ll be staying.”

Harper kissed her. “We’ll be staying.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to hear what I have to say about the Rivers first?”

“It affects the family, we should hear it together.”

“I love you.” Presley drew a deep breath. “All right, let’s go inside.”

Harper jumped down and hurried around the front of the truck to take Presley’s arm as she climbed out. She slid her fingers through Presley’s as they walked around to the kitchen. Everyone was there, Edward at the head of the table, Flannery to his left, Carson to his right, Margie next to Carson, Ida at the far end of the table. Two empty chairs remained—one on either side of Ida.

“I love you,” Harper murmured, let go of her hand, and took the empty chair on her mother’s right next to Flann. Presley glanced at the single remaining chair next to Ida. Every eye was on her.

“Have you had coffee?” Ida said.

“I’m fine for now,” Presley said.

“Then you should sit down.” Ida smiled and the invitation reached her eyes.

“Thank you.” Presley sat and folded her hands in front of her on the big hickory table. She thought she’d known what she was going to say—she had all the facts and figures lined up, had reviewed all the logic, analyzed the conclusions, formulated everything in terms a layperson could understand. Sitting here at this table, none of those things seemed to matter. She met each expectant gaze and focused on Harper. “I grew up believing success equaled happiness. In my family, success meant winning at business, mostly, but when I was younger it was anything…everything—sports, academics, social distinction. My brother and I competed fiercely.”

Flannery said, “Sounds like me and Harper.”

Presley smiled fleetingly. “No, nothing like you and Harper. We weren’t competing to bring out the best in each other, but to gain our parents’ approval. And it seemed that only one of us could ever have that at any given time.”

No one said anything, but the calm, steady look in Harper’s eyes gave her all the strength she needed.

“When I first came here, I thought I understood the situation at the Rivers. The hospital is a losing proposition and has been for quite some time. The patient base is geographically scattered, poor, and underinsured. Closing the institution makes fiscal sense.”

Flann grumbled and Harper elbowed her. Presley kept going—this was her ground, and she ruled it without hesitation.

“The sooner I was done here, the sooner I could get back to Phoenix and concentrate on my next battle with my brother.” She cleared her throat. “My father is retiring and gave us plenty of notice so we would be able to fight each other for his place. We’ve been doing that for the better part of the last year.” She smiled at Harper and hoped Harper could see how much she loved her. “That’s the only thing I ever wanted—I knew if I could prove that I was worthy, capable of taking his place, I’d have the respect and love I’ve been trying to get my whole life.” She reached across the table and Harper took her hand. “I was wrong, and it took falling in love for me to understand that.”

After a second, she released Harper’s hand and faced Edward at the head of the table. Edward was watching her, his deep brown eyes calm and appraising. “I’ve reviewed Harper’s proposal, and I assume you and Flannery and Carson have looked it over also. The idea is a good one, but not financially feasible as things stand.”

A muscle in Edward’s cheek twitched, but he said nothing. He was an observer, like Harper—slow to make a decision until he had all the facts.

Flann swore.

“Flannery,” Ida said in a warning tone.

“Sorry, Mama.”

“However,” Presley said, still gazing at Edward, “if the Rivers acquired a fairly large infusion of capital to underwrite Harper’s plan and set it in motion to take advantage of the coming fall semester and next round of residents, I think we could arrange for a federal subsidy to help bolster the hospital almost immediately. That would ease the burden going forward.”

Flann said, “I think we’ve already determined there’s nowhere to get the money.”

“Flann,” Harper snapped, “do you think you could shut up and let her finish?”

“Do you think you could make me?”

“Enough,” Ida said quietly, “the both of you.”

“Sorry, Mama,” they said in unison.

Presley said, “SunView plans to sell the emergency room to a group of private investors. The proceeds will support the establishment of Harper’s community medicine program. With the federal training subsidy and some hardball with the insurance carriers, I predict we will bring our bottom line into an acceptable range within five years.”

“Sell the emergency room,” Flann said. “How can you even do that?”

“Actually, it’s fairly common. St. Vincent’s Hospital in Manhattan, for example, just reopened the emergency room as a private facility, as have a number of medical centers elsewhere. Private-sector investors are eager to put their money into acute-care facilities where reimbursement is high and patient turnover rapid. Because the Rivers is physically associated with the emergency room, our direct admissions will benefit. As part of building the acute-care network, SunView will be purchasing a number of urgent care facilities, essentially creating a wide net from which to refer patients.”

Flann frowned. “That’s a big investment on SunView’s part. How exactly did you sell this?”

“The plan will make money.”

Carson said quietly, “If it all works, but there is considerable risk.”

“Yes, but with risk comes the possibility of considerable profit.”

Harper leaned forward. “How did you do it?”

Presley shrugged. “I told Preston he could have my father’s seat with my support if he voted with me on this proposal.”

“No,” Harper said. “There must be another way.”

“Harper,” Presley said gently. “You’re a wonderful doctor, but you don’t know anything about business.”

“I might not know anything about business, but I know what it means to give up a dream.”

“It wasn’t a dream, it was an illusion.” Presley smiled. “Besides, as part of the package, Preston has guaranteed my autonomy—in writing. I’m going to control all of SunView’s interests on the Eastern Seaboard. I’ll have plenty to do to keep me busy.”

Edward said, “How will we staff the emergency room?”

“The new corporation will hire the necessary physicians. We will need an independent chief of emergency medicine.” She glanced at Flannery. “I understand that the emergency room is now part of the department of surgery, but that will have to change.”

“Do I get a say in who you hire?”

“I’ll certainly take your opinion under advisement.”

“Good enough, then.” Flann paused. “What about Carrie?”

“I’ll need her if she wants to stay.” She glanced at Harper. “We’ll also need some of the local physicians to staff the urgent care centers. That will make the transition easier for their patients and help them into the system. We’ll be bringing in other physicians as well.”

Edward said, “This gives us a chance to keep the hospital and take care of the patients. We don’t have a choice, but it’s a good solution. We’ll do our part.”

“I’m sure of it.” Presley leaned back, the tightness between her shoulder blades signaling just how nervous she’d been. “That’s all I have. Does anyone have any questions?”

“Are you and Harper an item?” Margie asked.

Harper groaned. “Margie, for crying out loud.”

Presley gave Margie’s shoulders a quick squeeze. “We most certainly are.”

Ida rose. “Everyone has work to do. I expect you all back here for dinner so we can celebrate properly.”

Edward, Flannery, and Carson headed for the door. Harper slid her arm around Presley’s waist and kissed her. “You’re sure?”

“Totally,” Presley murmured. “I have you. And I’ll have plenty of work to do.”

“I love you,” Harper said.

Ida folded her arms across her middle. “I take it you two have finally sorted yourselves out?”

“We have,” Harper said. “And we’ll be getting married sometime soon.”

“When were you planning on telling us that?” Ida said.

Harper laughed. “Dinner?”

“I suppose that’s soon enough.” Ida filled a coffee mug, handed it to Presley, and kissed her on the cheek. “Welcome to the family.”

“Thank you.” Presley took the mug and leaned her head on Harper’s shoulder. “There’s no place else I’d rather be.”

About the Author

Radclyffe has written over forty-five romance and romantic intrigue novels, dozens of short stories, and, writing as L.L. Raand, has authored a paranormal romance series, The Midnight Hunters.

She is an eight-time Lambda Literary Award finalist in romance, mystery, and erotica—winning in both romance (Distant Shores, Silent Thunder) and erotica (Erotic Interludes 2: Stolen Moments edited with Stacia Seaman and In Deep Waters 2: Cruising the Strip written with Karin Kallmaker). A member of the Saints and Sinners Literary Hall of Fame, she is also an RWA/FF&P Prism Award winner for Secrets in the Stone, an RWA FTHRW Lories and RWA HODRW winner for Firestorm, an RWA Bean Pot winner for Crossroads, and an RWA Laurel Wreath winner for Blood Hunt. In 2014 she was awarded the Dr. James Duggins Outstanding Mid-Career Novelist Award by the Lambda Literary Foundation.

She is also the president of Bold Strokes Books, one of the world’s largest independent LGBTQ publishing companies.

Find her at facebook.com/Radclyffe.BSB, follow her on Twitter @RadclyffeBSB, and visit her website at Radfic.com.

Books Available From Bold Strokes Books

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