Business had been good, except that he’d always had a hard time putting a lid on his workaholic tendencies. Make one million, naturally he wanted to make five, then ten. He was generally connected to a computer or a phone twenty hours out of twenty-four. So maybe he had no love life or personal life, but he was thriving.

He was sure he’d been thriving.

But then Caroline had called four days ago and he just hadn’t found the time to call her back. She’d called again yesterday morning. He’d been planning to call her tonight. Really. For sure.

Only, damn it, maybe he’d have forgotten that the way he forgot everything else lately. Business had consumed him tighter than a tornado wind.

His sister, who’d always counted on him-who knew she could count on him, who’d never doubted he’d be there for her-had needed help. And he’d flunked the course.

By the time he reached the outskirts of Eastwick, night had fallen, his stomach was churning and his heart feeling sharp-sick. It wasn’t just guilt; it was caring. So many people believed he was cold-blooded-and maybe he was; that was what made him good in business. But he wasn’t cold about his sister. He fiercely loved her.

He’d just failed her this time. And he couldn’t, wouldn’t, forgive himself.

At the hospital he locked the car and jogged for the door, still wearing the navy suit he’d worn all day, not having eaten in God knows how long. He didn’t care. He shot through the doors, jabbed the elevator button for three, ran.

He hadn’t been home-much less near Eastwick General Hospital-in a blue moon and then some. But the structure hadn’t noticeably changed since he was a kid. He’d have known his way around even if his family hadn’t donated a wing or two over the years. Critical care was the isolated unit off the third floor in the back-the location chosen because it had a helipad on the roof.

The CC wing was quiet. The sound of machines and monitors made more noise than the patients. Lights dimmed after nine. He didn’t immediately see a nurse or doctor, so simply hiked past each glass-doored cubicle, looking for his sister. The unit held only ten beds, usually more than needed even in emergency circumstances. Six beds were filled-not one of them with his sister.