LITMIR.BIZ

      About the Author

      ANNE FRASER was born in Scotland, but brought up in South Africa. After she left school she returned to the birthplace of her parents, the remote Western Islands of Scotland. She left there to train as a nurse, before going on to university to study English Literature. After the birth of her first child she and her doctor husband travelled the world, working in rural Africa, Australia and Northern Canada. Anne still works in the health sector. To relax, she enjoys spending time with her family, reading, walking and travelling.

      With a background of working in medical laboratories and a love of the romance genre, it is no surprise that SUE MACKAY writes Mills & Boon® Medical Romance^™ stories. An avid reader all her life, she wrote her first story at age eight—about a prince, of course. She lives with her own hero in the beautiful Marlborough Sounds, at the top of New Zealand’s South Island, where she indulges her passions for the outdoors, the sea and cycling.

       Recent titles by Anne Fraser:

HER MOTHERHOOD WISH** THE FIREBRAND WHO UNLOCKED HIS HEART MISTLETOE, MIDWIFE … MIRACLE BABY DOCTOR ON THE RED CARPET THE PLAYBOY OF HARLEY STREET THE DOCTOR AND THE DEBUTANTE DAREDEVIL, DOCTOR … DAD!† MIRACLE: MARRIAGE REUNITED SPANISH DOCTOR, PREGNANT MIDWIFE*

** The Most Precious Bundle of All † St. Piran’s Hospital * The Brides of Penhally Bay

       These books are also available in eBook format from www.millsandboon.co.uk

      Cinderella of Harley Street

       Anne Fraser

       www.millsandboon.co.uk

      MILLS & BOON

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      For Flora, with love and thanks.

       Dear Reader

      As my readers will know, I’ve written about damaged heroes and heroines who find themselves in heartbreaking and traumatic medical situations. This time I wanted to write about a heroine who has post-traumatic stress disorder and her journey to happiness—and so Cassie was created.

      Cassie has had a difficult childhood. Taken away at an early age from her drug-addicted mother and adopted by a couple who don’t love her, she’s grown up striving for perfection, doubting that anyone can love her for ever.

      All that got her through her lonely childhood and teenage years was a burning desire to become a children’s doctor.

      When she meets Dr Leith Ballantyne, Cassie begins to dream that perhaps she can have her fairytale ending after all—until she discovers that the man she is falling in love with has a son. Not trusting that she can be a good mother to any child because of her own childhood experiences, she decides the best thing she can do for Leith and his son is walk away.

      However it seems that fate has different plans for her when she finds herself working with Leith once more, and she is drawn not just to him but to his unhappy little boy.

      I have indulged my love of travel in this book—the hero and heroine meet on the Mercy Ship in Africa, are reunited in London, visit Leith’s childhood home on the Isle of Skye and fall in love all over again in the Caribbean.

      I hope you enjoy Leith and Cassie’s story.

       Anne Fraser

      CHAPTER ONE

      CASSIE HEAVED HER bag along the quayside, feeling unbearably hot in the midday African sun.

      She stopped to rest her aching arms and glanced upwards. The boat was enormous—far bigger than she could ever have imagined. That was good. It would mean that there would be plenty of corners for her to hide in. Naturally she’d socialise whenever it was necessary, but she needed to know that there were places, apart from her cabin, where she could be alone. It wasn’t that she didn’t like people, she simply preferred her own company.

      Her attention was caught by a man standing next to the rail, talking on his phone. Just as Cassie looked up at him he turned his head and for a moment their eyes locked. Her head spun as the strangest sensations twirled around her lower abdomen.

      It wasn’t as if he was particularly good-looking—God knew, she had been out with men better looking in her life—but it was the way he carried himself, the tilt of his head, the slight smile on his lips, the way his eyes creased at the corners. If she didn’t know differently, she would have sworn she was experiencing simple, pure lust.

      When he tipped his head to the side and raised one eyebrow, she flushed, knowing she had been staring. Now a deeper shade of red would be added to the beetroot colour she must already be from heat and exertion. Great. In those few seconds they had held each other’s gazes, all sorts of warning bells had gone off in her head. She decided instantly that whoever he was she’d do her best to ignore him in the coming weeks.

      She was halfway up the gangway when disaster struck. Her over-filled, slightly battered and definitely seen-better-days suitcase decided it had had enough of being stuffed to the gills, and it exploded, showering her path with T-shirts, dresses and, most embarrassingly, her underwear. She watched with horror as a pair of her lace and silk panties, which had cost her more money than she cared to remember, flew over the handrail, snagged on a piece of metal and fluttered there like some sort of lacy flag of surrender.

      Mortified, Cassie lunged for them and almost toppled into the sea. And that was exactly what would have happened had she not found herself caught and held fast against a broad, hard chest.

      For the briefest of moments she stayed there. There was something achingly secure about being held in these particular arms.

      Which was ridiculous. She didn’t need a man—anyone—to make her feel safe.

      Somehow she wasn’t surprised when she reluctantly extricated herself from the stranger’s arms to find that the man who had saved her from falling overboard was the same one who only moments earlier had caught her staring. So much for her promise to herself to avoid him.

      ‘I know it’s hot, but I wouldn’t recommend the side of the ship for a dip.’

      His accent was Scottish, warm and rich with a musical cadence of laughter.

      When she looked up at him—he was a good few inches taller than she was—she

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