Best Friend to Doctor Right Read online

  Sometimes the deepest desire...

  ...is the one you’ve hidden the longest.

  Realizing her world is dramatically falling apart, surgeon Mina’s childhood friend Kiah offers her a fresh start on the beautiful Caribbean island he calls home. She’s beyond grateful for his help in regaining the spirit and purpose she feared she’d lost. But when a long-denied attraction spills into their friendship, they must decide whether to risk everything on the breathtaking passion that’s quickly unraveling between them!

  Something changed in her expression.

  If he didn’t know her as well as he did, he’d have missed it, but, even so, he couldn’t interpret the emotion suddenly shadowing her eyes and fractionally tightening her lips.

  When she reached out and trailed her fingers along his cheek, so lightly they could have been butterfly wings, he froze, startled by the surge of emotion engendered by her tender caress.

  “Let me tell you a secret,” she said, leaning in so her face was close enough that he could have kissed her, if he dared. “Sometimes it’s far easier to accept your limitations than it is to fight against them and get your heart broken.”

  Before he realized her intention, Mina closed the gap between them and placed her lips on his. Soft and sweet and warm, they teased his mouth, moving ever so slightly, and now he recognized what he was feeling.

  Desire.

  Need.

  But this was Mina.

  Mina!

  Dear Reader,

  Welcome to St. Eustace, home of the delectable Dr. Hezekiah “Kiah” Langdon. On finding his best friend, Dr. Mina Haraldson, depressed over the losses she’s sustained, Kiah convinces her to travel back to the island with him.

  There, she’s surprised by the heat she discovers, and I don’t mean the weather!

  Mina was inspired by two family members who are amputees, particularly my granduncle, Dr. William Aird, who lost his arm in an accident. Family lore states that after the accident, he pulled over, used his tie as a tourniquet and then drove himself to the hospital. There, while the nurses cried, he cracked jokes to cheer them up.

  By the time I was old enough to know Uncle Billy, it seemed normal to me that he had only one arm and was still practicing medicine. An amazing man, he didn’t allow what could have been a career-ending event stop him.

  My hope was to write a heroine with the same strength and resilience, even if, at first, she doubts herself and her abilities, and a hero to match her spark with fire of his own.

  I hope you love Kiah and Mina as much as I do!

  Regards,

  Ann McIntosh

  Best Friend to Doctor Right

  Ann McIntosh

  Ann McIntosh was born in the tropics, lived in the frozen north for a number of years and now resides in sunny central Florida with her husband. She’s a proud mama to three grown children, loves tea, crafting, animals (except reptiles!), bacon and the ocean. She believes in the power of romance to heal, inspire and provide hope in our complex world.

  Books by Ann McIntosh

  Harlequin Medical Romance

  A Summer in São Paulo

  Awakened by Her Brooding Brazilian

  The Nurse’s Pregnancy Miracle

  The Surgeon’s One Night to Forever

  Surgeon Prince, Cinderella Bride

  The Nurse’s Christmas Temptation

  Visit the Author Profile page at Harlequin.com.

  For my amazing and wonderful niece, Victoria, and my granduncle, Dr. William “Billy” Aird, both of whom have been inspirations to me.

  Praise for Ann McIntosh

  “The Surgeon’s One Night to Forever is a story about meeting the stranger you never thought you will meet again ever. Author Ann McIntosh brought this story with emotions and medical drama. A reader would stay glued to the book till the last page to find what happens next.”

  —Goodreads

  Contents

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  EPILOGUE

  EXCERPT FROM SARAH AND THE SINGLE DAD BY DEANNE ANDERS

  CHAPTER ONE

  ALTHOUGH UNEXPECTED, THE sound of the buzzer heralding a visitor hardly registered.

  Dr. Mina Haraldson lifted her head briefly off the couch cushion to stare blankly at the television, where a show she didn’t recall putting on flickered in the gloom of her living room. Thick mental fog blanketed her more securely than the heavy quilt she was huddled beneath, giving her respite from the world. There was a vague recognition of something unusual having happened, but she had no idea of what it was until the buzzer went off again.

  No need to answer, or even see who it was. She hadn’t ordered food or anything else. Her parents, having been convinced their immediate presence was no longer necessary, had gone off to Florida for their usual winter break. Her brother was at home in BC. She knew that because she’d been forced to put on a happy tone the night before, for their weekly Friday night telephone conversation.

  If she’d failed to convince Braden of her well-being, he’d have said something.

  Somehow she must have done a good job. He’d rung off without trying to interrogate her, taking her word that all was well.

  Perhaps now that her medical career was over she should take up acting. After all, a one-handed actor was far more feasible than a one-handed surgeon. She’d put that on her “future prospects” list, if she ever got up enough energy to start one.

  Tears clouded her vision, and she closed her eyes. Leaning her head back against the cushions and pulling the quilt back up under her chin, she drowned anew in her reality.

  Her uselessness.

  When the buzzer went a third time, her jaw clenched.

  “Go away!”

  The shouted words drowned out the TV and echoed in the apartment, but the person down in the lobby couldn’t hear them, and the buzzer rang again.

  Then her phone beeped, as well.

  “Oh, for...”

  Untangling her arm from the quilt, she fumbled around on the ground for her phone. Unlocking the screen, she squinted at the message, her heart turning over as she read it.

  Answer the door, girl. Calypso Kiah is here and ready to party!

  “Kiah?”

  Shock dispelled the rage as swiftly as it had risen and was then overwhelmed by a rush of delight so intense Mina’s head swam.

  What was he doing here, now? He’d said he was going to Calgary for his cousin’s wedding, then coming to Toronto to visit, but that wasn’t until the twenty-fifth. Or was it the twenty-first?

  Good grief, what date was it today anyway? What day?

  She couldn’t remember. Funny how, when you had nothing to do or to concentrate on, the days ran one into the other.

  Obviously, she’d totally lost track of time.

  Mina tried to sit up, was caught in the folds of the quilt and, in her eagerness to rise, put both hands down on the cushion beneath her and heaved.

  Pain shot like jagged shards of glass up her arm f
rom the nerve endings in her stump, making her fall, cursing, back onto the couch, dropping the phone as she went.

  It was over a year since the accident, but she still forgot. Still tried to use her hand.

  Still, somewhere deep inside, apparently hadn’t accepted her left hand was gone.

  And each reminder made her heart stop for an instant, denial washing through her, as strong as it had been the day she woke up in the hospital and learned about the amputation.

  She couldn’t find the phone, was still gasping from the pain, cradling her left arm against her chest with her right hand.

  But it was Kiah, and she couldn’t let him leave.

  He was her oldest and very best friend in the world.

  She hadn’t seen him in person for five years.

  Frantically kicking her feet, she freed herself from the quilt. Her cell phone was set up to unlock the downstairs door, but she’d never mastered the art of using it efficiently with one hand. So she tumbled off the couch and ran to the panel beside the front door to hit the intercom button.

  “Kiah. Kiah, are you still there?”

  There was a pause and, for a sickening moment, she thought he’d gone. Then his voice, deep and melodic, its island rhythm hardly distorted by the intercom, came through.

  “Of course I’m still here, girl. You can’t get rid of me so easy.”

  Knees weak, she leaned against the wall, a smile breaking over her face, silly tears once more filling her eyes.

  “Thank goodness. Come on up.”

  As she buzzed him in, she was suddenly aware of the state of her apartment. The unwashed cups, an old pizza box and wadded-up tissues littering the coffee table. The crumpled quilt, half on, half off the couch.

  It was a mess, and she wasn’t in any better shape, now that she thought about it.

  When last had she even bathed, much less washed her hair? She’d been wearing the same shapeless sweatpants and sweatshirt for at least two days. For a brief instant shame racked her, but it wasn’t strong enough to do more than mute her overwhelming joy and excitement.

  After all, it was Kiah.

  Pulling open her front door, she stepped halfway out into the corridor, her heart pounding as she stared down the hallway toward the elevators. Finding herself jigging from one foot to the other like an overexuberant child brought a bubble of laughter, but it stuck in her throat, burning, instead of breaking free. Emotions too numerous to recognize swamped her, rushing through her system in first hot and then cold waves.

  When the ping of the elevator sounded from around the corner, Mina’s world seemed to stop for an instant, and then resume in agonizing slow motion. It felt like a year before a shadow fell on the carpet; another eon passed before Kiah stepped around the corner and came toward her.

  Bundled up to the hilt, as was only to be expected for someone who’d come from a tropical island into the Canadian winter, he was unzipping his parka as he walked. Through the haze of delight misting her eyes, Mina took note of the changes in him since the last time they’d been together. He looked older. New lines at the corners of his eyes, some gray salting the hair at his temples. But his smile as beautiful as ever: white teeth gleaming against his dark skin, the little dimple on his left cheek winking.

  Just seeing him made something deep inside her shift, loosen, unravel. Where before she’d been lost in a fog, suddenly everything was in sharp, clear focus. Illuminated brighter than she’d expected. Dazzlingly so.

  “Oh, Kiah!” she cried, as he got close enough to envelop her in a huge bear hug. “I’ve missed you so much!”

  And, to her surprise and consternation, she burst into tears.

  * * *

  Kiah picked Mina up and carried her into the apartment, glad she had her face buried in his shoulder so she couldn’t see the shock on his face, in his eyes.

  This wasn’t his Mina. More like a shadow of his friend.

  The old Mina was always neatly put together, no matter the occasion. Even at the beach, or wearing jeans and a T-shirt, she gave off an air of tidy confidence. Not now, though. Wearing shapeless clothes, with stringy hair and a face sallower than it should be, even allowing for winter pallor, she’d been almost unrecognizable when he came around the corner. And when he hugged her, he realized she’d lost so much weight it felt as though she’d snap in two should his arms tighten too much.

  Then there was the fact she was sobbing pitifully. In the more than twenty years since they’d met, he could count on one hand the number of times he’d seen her cry, and even on those occasions, it was nothing like this. She hated to cry, and always exerted Herculean effort to curtail the tears, indulging for a brief moment before getting herself back under control. Right now, she seemingly had lost every ounce of control she possessed, and it was kind of freaking him out.

  Yet, growing up surrounded by women, Kiah knew what not to say to a sobbing female. So he sat down on the sofa and, pulling Mina’s frail form close, repeated over and over, “I got you, sweet girl. Kiah’s got you.”

  His heart ached to see her this way, but he was fiercely glad he was the one there with her, supporting and comforting, just as she’d been there for him all through the years, since the very beginning. Grade seven, to be exact. Mrs. Nowac’s class.

  He’d still been traumatized by and grieving over the loss of his father, terrified of this new school, the new life he’d found himself living. From the first moment he’d set foot in Moraine Academy, he’d known he didn’t belong, and was sure he never would. The only way he and his little sister Karlene got into the prestigious private school was because his mother’s employer, Mrs. Burton, had pulled strings and gotten them scholarships. And the only reason she’d done it was because it was the closest school to her mansion, and she wanted her housekeeper available in the mornings, not driving her kids to school.

  They’d had to walk the four miles to school, since there were no buses going there. All the other kids got dropped off or, if they were old enough, drove themselves. As he and Karlene trudged onto the school property, he’d seen the scornful looks the other kids gave them, checking out their cheap, bargain-basement clothes and no-name shoes.

  Karlene had noticed, too.

  “I hate it here already,” she’d said, loud enough to prove she didn’t care who heard. Kiah hadn’t replied. Normally he’d have tried to give it a positive spin, but just then he was overwhelmingly sad, really low on optimism, and couldn’t in good faith disagree. He, too, was wishing he were back in their old school in Scarborough, surrounded by the friends they’d made the year before.

  He’d walked Karlene to her class then made his way to the room he was assigned to, getting there just as the bell rang. Knowing the other kids would have seats picked out already, he waited by the door until the rest of the students had settled into their chairs, then looked up and found the last empty seat in the room.

  On his way there he kept his head down, not making eye contact with anyone, yet aware of how everyone in the room was staring at him. The other kids’ whispers surrounded him like the buzz of bees. Even all these years later he still remembered it, clear as day.

  “We have a new student,” Mrs. Nowac said, once he was seated. “Hezekiah Langdon. Please make him welcome.”

  “Hezekiah?” The derision in the boy’s voice was accompanied by a kick to the back of Kiah’s chair. “What kind of stupid name is that?”

  The wave of laughter rippling through the class hardly mattered. Kiah already knew he had no business there. All he could do was wish things could go back to how they’d been—before his father died, and his mother had totally lost control. He’d thought coming to Canada would be exciting but it had all gone to hell. His father had been the one who held everything together and gave his children the love and support they needed, while keeping his wife’s anger and bitterness in check.

  Now that he
was gone, the world was a bleak, frightening place.

  If Kiah had had a magic wand, he’d have waved it and been back on St. Eustace. Probably running on the beach, or playing cricket with his friends.

  “It’s Biblical. Hezekiah was a king of Judea. You should know that, Justin. Isn’t your grandpa a pastor?”

  Kiah had been half-aware of the girl in front of him turning in her chair but thought she’d just been staring and giggling like all the others. When he heard her defending his name, he’d looked up and, for the first time, his gaze met Mina’s.

  She was so cute his heart stumbled over itself. Her hair swung around her fine-boned oval face like a curtain of amber, and her wide-set chocolate brown eyes, tilted slightly at the corners, twinkled. Later on, he learned she’d gotten her eye coloring and shape from her Korean mother, while the lighter hair had come from a trip to the beauty salon. Not that her hair was as dark as her mom’s. Mr. Haraldson, her father, was almost white-blond, and in Kiah’s estimation Mina was a perfect combination of her Korean and Scandinavian heritages.

  “That’s enough now, class.” Mrs. Nowac had shushed them, causing Mina to turn back around and face front. Then the teacher started talking about the first lesson of the day.

  “Smart-ass. I’ll deal with you later, Mina Haraldson.” Justin obviously didn’t like being upstaged, and whispered the threat just loud enough for Mina to hear.

  “Just try it,” she replied, without turning around.

  And despite his mother’s firm injunction to keep his head down and not make any trouble, on pain of a thorough thrashing, Kiah turned and gave Justin a scowl.

  “Yeah, Justin.” He made no effort to temper the swing and tempo of his accent the way he’d learned to do since moving to Canada, and the name rolled out like a dirty word. “Just try it.”

  When Mina glanced back at him and grinned, he’d suddenly felt better, as though life just might be worth living after all.