LITMIR.BIZ

      He’s just a man! she told herself, but that didn’t stop a tremble in the pit of her stomach as he looked around the room, dark eyes taking in the newcomer, his head nodding in acknowledgement, his eyes holding hers—a second or two, no more—and causing heat to sear downwards through her body.

      ‘So, we have a stranger in our midst,’ said this man who was causing the problems, his voice reverberating through her like the echoes of carillon bells. ‘And you are…?’

      ‘Marni Graham, sir,’ she said, hoping she sounded more in control than she felt.

      ‘In here I’m Gaz—just Gaz, Marni Graham,’ he said. ‘Welcome to the team.’

      She really should say something—respond in some way—but her voice was lost somewhere in the general muddle of the new and unbelievably vital sensations she was experiencing right now.

      Lust at first sight?

      It can’t be, Marni argued with herself—but silently, and very weakly.

      The man in question had pulled his mask up to cover his nose and mouth and seemed about to turn away, but before he did he smiled at her.

      Of course she couldn’t see the smile, not on his lips, but she was certain it was there, shining in his eyes and making her feel warm and very, very unsettled.

       Dear Reader

      My fascination for desert regions still has me in its grip, so it’s not surprising this is another book set in one of those fascinating places.

      People ask where my ideas come from and I really cannot answer that. It seems to me that they come not as a full-blown notion but as little snippets of this and that. Some of these snippets came as I walked on a beach with Marion Lennox, a dear friend and a tremendous support from the day I started writing. So there we were, coming up from the beach through the native shrub, where I know bad snakes are known to lurk. Being terrified of snakes, I talked to keep my mind off it, prattling on about a young woman who was brought up by her grandfather, and as I talked they came to life in my head and their journey stretched before them.

      As always, it didn’t follow the original path, but hopefully the path it did follow proves enjoyable for you.

       Meredith Webber

      MEREDITH WEBBER says of herself, ‘Once I read an article which suggested that Mills & Boon^® were looking for new Medical Romance^™ authors. I had one of those “I can do that” moments, and gave it a try. What began as a challenge has become an obsession—though I do temper the “butt on seat” career of writing with dirty but healthy outdoor pursuits, fossicking through the Australian Outback in search of gold or opals. Having had some success in all of these endeavours, I now consider I’ve found the perfect lifestyle.’

      Date with A Surgeon Prince

      Meredith Webber

       www.millsandboon.co.uk

      MILLS & BOON

       Before you start reading, why not sign up?

      Thank you for downloading this Mills & Boon book. If you want to hear about exclusive discounts, special offers and competitions, sign up to our email newsletter today!

       SIGN ME UP!

      Or simply visit

      signup.millsandboon.co.uk

      Mills & Boon emails are completely free to receive and you can unsubscribe at any time via the link in any email we send you.

      Table of Contents

       Cover

      Praise for Meredith Webber

       Excerpt

       About the Author

       Title Page

      Prologue

      Chapter One

      Chapter Two

       Chapter Three

       Chapter Four

       Chapter Five

       Chapter Six

       Chapter Seven

       Chapter Eight

       Chapter Nine

       Chapter Ten

       Chapter Eleven

       Epilogue

       Copyright

       PROLOGUE

       ‘ARE YOU COMPLETELY mad? Bonkers? Round the twist?’

      It wasn’t often Marni yelled at her grandfather. In fact, if she’d been in any fit state to think about it, she’d have realised it was probably the first time. But this was just too much.

       ‘It says here the man’s a prince. Just because he hasn’t married doesn’t mean he’ll be interested in some cockamamie story about being betrothed to me when he was three!’

      She was still yelling, and brandishing the newspaper Pop had been reading at the same time, while the voice that lived in her head told her it would be a bad idea to bash an ailing eighty-four-year-old man to death, especially as she loved him to bits and couldn’t bear the thought of life without him.

      Except that she had to start—start imagining it, that was. Eighty-four, with a blocked valve in his heart and blocked stents in the vital arteries that fed the heart muscle.

      The

Скачать книгу