Шэрон Кендрик - Surgeon Of The Heart

Cat’s voice sounded heavy, drowsy. ‘No.’

‘A drink, then? Some more grappa?’

‘No.’

‘What, then? This. . .?’ And Nico bent his head and started to kiss her. ‘Is this what you wanted all the time, my little Cat?’

‘Oh, yes,’ she breathed, against his parted lips. ‘Yes. Yes.’

Dear Reader Contents Cover Dear Reader About the Author Title Page CHAPTER ONE CHAPTER TWO CHAPTER THREE CHAPTER FOUR CHAPTER FIVE CHAPTER SIX CHAPTER SEVEN CHAPTER EIGHT CHAPTER NINE CHAPTER TEN CHAPTER ELEVEN CHAPTER TWELVE Copyright ,

One hundred. Doesn’t matter how many times I say it, I still can’t believe that’s how many books I’ve written. It’s a fabulous feeling but more fabulous still is the news that Mills & Boon are issuing every single one of my backlist as digital titles. Wow. I can’t wait to share all my stories with you - which are as vivid to me now as when I wrote them.

There’s BOUGHT FOR HER HUSBAND, with its outrageously macho Greek hero and A SCANDAL, A SECRET AND A BABY featuring a very sexy Tuscan. THE SHEIKH’S HEIR proved so popular with readers that it spent two weeks on the USA Today charts and…well, I could go on, but I’ll leave you to discover them for yourselves.

I remember the first line of my very first book: “So you’ve come to Australia looking for a husband?” Actually, the heroine had gone to Australia to escape men, but guess what? She found a husband all the same! The man who inspired that book rang me up recently and when I told him I was beginning my 100th story and couldn’t decide what to write, he said, “Why don’t you go back to where it all started?”

So I did. And that’s how A ROYAL VOW OF CONVENIENCE was born. It opens in beautiful Queensland and moves to England and New York. It’s about a runaway princess and the enigmatic billionaire who is infuriated by her, yet who winds up rescuing her. But then, she goes and rescues him… Wouldn’t you know it?

I’ll end by saying how very grateful I am to have a career I love, and to thank each and every one of you who has supported me along the way. You really are very dear readers.

Love,

Sharon xxx

Mills & Boon are proud to present a thrilling digital collection of all Sharon Kendrick’s novels and novellas for us to celebrate the publication of her amazing and awesome 100th book! Sharon is known worldwide for her likeable, spirited heroines and her gorgeous, utterly masculine heroes.

SHARON KENDRICKonce won a national writing competition, describing her ideal date: being flown to an exotic island by a gorgeous and powerful man. Little did she realise that she’d just wandered into her dream job! Today she writes for Mills & Boon, featuring her often stubborn but always to-die-for heroes and the women who bring them to their knees. She believes that the best books are those you never want to end. Just like life…

www.millsandboon.co.uk

Cover

Dear Reader Dear Reader Contents Cover Dear Reader About the Author Title Page CHAPTER ONE CHAPTER TWO CHAPTER THREE CHAPTER FOUR CHAPTER FIVE CHAPTER SIX CHAPTER SEVEN CHAPTER EIGHT CHAPTER NINE CHAPTER TEN CHAPTER ELEVEN CHAPTER TWELVE Copyright , One hundred. Doesn’t matter how many times I say it, I still can’t believe that’s how many books I’ve written. It’s a fabulous feeling but more fabulous still is the news that Mills & Boon are issuing every single one of my backlist as digital titles. Wow. I can’t wait to share all my stories with you - which are as vivid to me now as when I wrote them. There’s BOUGHT FOR HER HUSBAND, with its outrageously macho Greek hero and A SCANDAL, A SECRET AND A BABY featuring a very sexy Tuscan. THE SHEIKH’S HEIR proved so popular with readers that it spent two weeks on the USA Today charts and…well, I could go on, but I’ll leave you to discover them for yourselves. I remember the first line of my very first book: “So you’ve come to Australia looking for a husband?” Actually, the heroine had gone to Australia to escape men, but guess what? She found a husband all the same! The man who inspired that book rang me up recently and when I told him I was beginning my 100th story and couldn’t decide what to write, he said, “Why don’t you go back to where it all started?” So I did. And that’s how A ROYAL VOW OF CONVENIENCE was born. It opens in beautiful Queensland and moves to England and New York. It’s about a runaway princess and the enigmatic billionaire who is infuriated by her, yet who winds up rescuing her. But then, she goes and rescues him… Wouldn’t you know it? I’ll end by saying how very grateful I am to have a career I love, and to thank each and every one of you who has supported me along the way. You really are very dear readers. Love, Sharon xxx

About the Author SHARON KENDRICK once won a national writing competition, describing her ideal date: being flown to an exotic island by a gorgeous and powerful man. Little did she realise that she’d just wandered into her dream job! Today she writes for Mills & Boon, featuring her often stubborn but always to-die-for heroes and the women who bring them to their knees. She believes that the best books are those you never want to end. Just like life…

Title Page Surgeon of the Heart Sharon Kendrick writing as Sharon Wirdnam www.millsandboon.co.uk

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

Copyright

‘CAT! Hey, Cat! Over here!’

Catriona, who had been trying very hard to slip out of the marbled foyer of the hotel unnoticed, turned reluctantly to face the speaker, a beefily built fellow nurse called Beth, who had scarcely left her side since the conference had begun. As she turned, the heavy red-gold hair swung in a deliciously shimmering bell, causing more than one appreciative Italian eye to linger on her slender figure.

‘There you are, Cat!’ said Beth, her voice sounding distinctly accusing. ‘I thought you were going to meet us down here for a drink. You’ve been ages! What on earth have you been doing?’

‘Sorry,’ said Catriona automatically, slightly surprised herself by her unusual lack of punctuality. ‘But the view from my room is so—so glorious that I sat for ages just gazing out—I must have got a bit carried away.’

Appreciation of Roman landscapes obviously came very low down on Beth’s list of priorities, for her aggrieved expression remained unchanged. ‘Well, it’s too late for a drink now. Guess what?’ It was a question that clearly required no answer, for she babbled on eagerly. ‘Glenn and David have said they’ll join us for dinner. Isn’t that great?’

‘Oh——’ Catriona had been about to say ‘oh, dear’, but she amended it hastily. The two red-blooded registrars from Cardiff had been in hot pursuit for the three days since she’d been in Rome. Frankly, she was sick of the sight of them. They just couldn’t seem to get the message that she was simply not interested. After all, they were doctors, weren’t they? And didn’t every doctor know that there was one reason, and one reason alone, why any girl should enter the nursing profession, and that was to carry off the ultimate prize—a doctor husband?

‘And we’ve found the most fantastic restaurant,’ rattled on Beth excitedly, flashing her eyes at Glenn, not noticing that his attention was totally taken up with the green-eyed girl with the shiny red-gold hair who stood before him. ‘It isn’t far from here, Cat—and you’ll never guess what.’

‘What?’ asked Cat, wondering how she instinctively knew what was about to follow.

‘They only serve English food! After days of oily muck, we’ve finally found one! What do you think about that?’

Catriona thought that it was about time she asserted herself.

Rome. The eternal city. She had been here for three days and she might as well have been in Blackpool. The days themselves were taken up with attending the prestigious cardio-thoracic conference—and that had been OK, more than OK, in fact, with detailed, slick lectures showing the latest developments in the exciting and exacting speciality of cardio-thoracic surgery. The fly in the ointment had been that the organisers had taken it upon themselves to organise every spare second of the delegates’ free time. Consequently they had been herded on to buses, day after day, with a hostess deafening them with her well-learned patter as they went on yet another guided tour.

Oh, yes, they had seen many of the magnificent sights that abounded in this remarkable city—the Vatican; the Coliseum; the building that so resembled a wedding-cake—and which had caused David to wink at Catriona so repeatedly that she’d been forced in the end to ask him if he didn’t have something the matter with his eye! But the real Rome, the ordinary Rome, the city that was enjoyed by the people who actually lived there, Catriona felt they hadn’t touched on at all. She longed to stroll unhurriedly through the streets, to find a little restaurant where the Italians actually ate! They hadn’t had one meal since their arrival that couldn’t have been replicated in her local Italian restaurant in Leeds. She was sick to death of the ubiquitous pollo sopresa and the stodgy lasagne that was no better than that which was served in her hospital canteen! The Italians were world-famous for their cuisine—she’d just like to get a chance to sample some!

She gave the three faces a polite smile. ‘Thanks very much, but I’m afraid that I won’t be joining you.’

‘Won’t?’ queried Glenn, scowling. ‘Why not?’

She resented the proprietorial tone he had adopted, but, after all, she wouldn’t be seeing him again after breakfast tomorrow, so what was the point of telling him to mind his own business? ‘Because I want to see a bit of this city before I go home tomorrow, and because the last thing I want to do is eat English food,’ she said. ‘After all, don’t they say—when in Rome. . .?’ Her corny joke was met with a cold-eyed glare.

‘You don’t mean to tell me you’re planning to go out on your own?’ He asked the question so indignantly that his voice rose to the level of a pre-pubescent schoolboy.

‘Yes,’ said Catriona, bemused. ‘Is there a problem with that?’

‘A problem?’ he expostulated. ‘I should think so! You simply won’t be safe. You know what they say about Italian men!’

Biting back the urge to tell him that so far she’d encountered far more problems with Welsh men than she’d ever done with Italian men, she gave him a smile, which, if he’d known her a little better, he’d have been wary of! ‘Well, I appreciate your concern, but I’m not planning to frequent ill-lit alleys. So. . .’ She tucked her cream leather clutch-bag under her arm, and made to turn away, but Glenn had not yet finished.

‘Well, I don’t think you ought to go,’ he blustered, but she halted him in his tracks with a chilly stare.

She could just imagine how he would be on the wards, a little tin god! ‘I am over the age of consent,’ she said coolly. ‘And when I decide I need a guardian I’ll let you know. Goodnight.’ And, so saying, she walked away, ignoring his snort of anger, feeling as though she had just been relieved of an extremely heavy and uncomfortable burden.