The Money Man. Carolyn McSparren

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      “She’s your dog so you get to pay the bills.”

      “Oh, no, you don’t,” Mark replied. “I do not have room in my life for a dog. She’s probably not housebroken, she’s probably sick and I’m away a lot of the time.”

      As though she understood that her fate was being discussed, the puppy wriggled over and laid her head on Mark’s hand with a sigh. Her little rear wagged as she looked at him hopefully.

      “See that?” Sarah said. “She is your dog. Besides, someone has to pay for all the treatment we’ve given her. Isn’t that what you always say, Mr. Scott?”

      “Whoa.”

      “No whoa. You found her, you helped me work on her, you saw what we did. It all costs money. The clinic has to make money. That’s also what you always say. Well, Mark, you’ve just spent about two hundred bucks, and by the time I get through loading you with all the things you need for her, you’ll have spent a bunch more.”

      She rubbed the pup’s ears. “Sweet baby, Mommy loves a paying client.”

      Dear Reader,

      Those of us who love romance tend to love all God’s creatures. Personally, I draw the line at poisonous snakes, but I’m sure there are those of you out there with a soft spot in your hearts for copperheads. Our pets give us so much more than we could ever give them, and when they’re sick or hurt it’s up to us to help them.

      Our veterinarians and their staffs are truly special. Who else would work through the night in a freezing barn to save somebody else’s calf?

      Medical doctors need to know about one species—human beings. But a vet has to know that aspirin will kill a cat, that chocolate will poison a dog and that pythons sometimes can’t tell the difference between eggs and tennis balls. And then there are the owners—much more trouble than the animals, to hear my vet friends talk.

      In The Money Man, Sarah Marsdon has completely uprooted her life to take over as large-animal vet for a new clinic, only to find that the equipment she needs—and was promised—hasn’t even been ordered, thanks to Mark Scott, her personal roadblock. He’s not going to spend another dime. After all, a bankrupt clinic can’t help even one animal.

      Until the clinic is out of the woods financially, Sarah must make do with what she has. But she isn’t willing to offer less than the very best to her charges. She’s certain Mark could find the money if he really wanted to.

      They’re both too bullheaded to give an inch, even though the romantic sparks fly between them from the minute they meet. Can they find some way to compromise before their conflict destroys their love? Or will everyone lose—the animals, as well as Mark and Sarah?

      Carolyn McSparren

      P.S. I love to hear from readers. You can reach me by email at [email protected].

      The Money Man

      Carolyn McSparren

       www.millsandboon.co.uk

      ACKNOWLEDGMENT

      To all the veterinarians I know, their families and their staffs. These wonderful people answered thousand of questions, let me watch procedures, recounted funny and heart-rending tales and taught me about the inner workings of a veterinary clinic.

      DEDICATION

      For Dr. Melissa Poole of Mississippi State University, Camille and Dr. Mark Akin of the Akin Equine Clinic; everyone at the Bowling Animal Clinic; Elizabeth Lee, a great veterinary technician from Albuquerque, and Sam Garner and Bobby Billingsley, who convinced me all cows are crazy!

      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

      CHAPTER ONE

      DR. SARAH MARSDON shoved open the double glass doors and walked into the reception room of Creature Comfort Veterinary Clinic.

      She breathed in the faint odor of damp fur, disinfectant and enzyme cleaner used to remove doggie scents from floors.

      From the area to her left came the occasional barking and yipping and the persistent baritone yowl of a Siamese cat. In the week since she’d left her job in St. Paul, she’d missed the sound of a waiting room filled with animals.

      She’d paid a high personal and professional price to СКАЧАТЬ