Read Millionaire M.D. for Free Online Page A

in an area this wealthy, there’s no answer for it. Adoption is at least a possibility for a blond, blue-eyed baby—but not for this one, not for some time. Even if I run a hundred miles an hour and get answers zip-fast, there’s still no way to rush a—”
    â€œWin, you sound like you’re fighting with a judge in a court of law. You’re just talking to me. What’s the deal here? I take it you want to keep the baby?”
    Her shoulders sank, losing all that tough stiffness. And again her eyes got that softness, that terribly fierce vulnerability that he’d never seen before. “No one’s going to let me keep her. I’m single. And I’m working full-time besides. But right now—especially today—the town’s in chaos because of the Asterland jet crash. So the only thing that makes sense—”
    Justin heard his code paged on the loudspeaker. An orderly pushed past both of them to clean up the examining room. Bodies were still hustling in both directions, they were blocking the hallway—and the baby suddenly opened her rosebud mouth, yawned, and blinked open sleepy, priceless, exquisite blue eyes.
    He looked at the baby…and then at Winona again. “We’ve both got our hands full right now,” he said casually. “How about if I stop by for a short visit right after dinner?”
    â€œYou don’t have to do that.”
    Oh yeah, he thought, he definitely did.

Three
    J ust as Winona lifted a fork to her mouth, she heard the baby’s thin cry. Somehow there’d been no time for lunch. Now it looked as if the odds weren’t too hot on sneaking some dinner, either. Not that she minded. Who needed food? Dropping the fork with a clatter, she charged toward the living room. “I’m coming, Angel! I’m coming!”
    Well, shoot. It wasn’t quite that easy—as a woman or a temporary mom—to deliver on those optimistic words. Although it was only the distance of a fast gallop between the kitchen and the living room, reaching the baby was becoming more challenging by the hour.
    She’d only called a couple of neighbors that afternoon, but it seemed that the news about the baby had spread and help had been pouring in nonstop. The whole neighborhood was kid-studded—which was one of the reasons she’d chosen to buy her house here—and almost everyone had some baby gear stored in their garages or back rooms. Buying anything would have been silly: Winona had no idea how long shewould be allowed to keep the baby. But her neighbors’ loans had been extravagantly generous. She had to dodge a half-dozen car seats, a couple of high chairs, several playpens and walkers, backpacks, front packs, diaper bags, toys, enough blankets to warm a child in the Arctic, and heaps of baby clothes. Finally she reached the white wicker bassinet with the pink quilted lining.
    Inside was the princess, who happened to be garbed in her fifth outfit of the day. Winona figured they surely wouldn’t go through quite so many clothes tomorrow. She was getting close to mastering disposable diapers.
    â€œThere, there. There, there….” She picked up the precious bundle, and started the crooning, patting and rocking movements that seemed to be the eternal song of mothers. But on the inside, panic started to ooze through her nerves.
    â€œAre we hungry, sweetheart? Wet? Do you want the TV on? Off? More lights, less lights? More noise, less noise? Are you cold? Constipated—no, come to think of it, I’m positive that’s not a problem. Are you mad? Bored? Sick? Sad? Whatever it is, I’ll fix it, I swear. Just don’t cry. There, there. There, there, love….”
    The panic was new. All day, she’d been in seventh heaven. Babies had been on her heart’s agenda for a long time, and no, of course Angel wasn’t hers and wasn’t likely to be for long. Winona was trying her best to be