The Doctor and the Debutante - Anne Fraser Mills & Boon Medical

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      The Doctor and

      the Debutante

      Anne Fraser

       www.millsandboon.co.uk

      MILLS & BOON

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      Table of Contents

       Cover

       Title Page

       About the Author

       Dedication

       Prologue

       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

       Epilogue

       Copyright

       Dear Reader

      Tuscany is one of my favourite parts of the world, and some readers will know that Africa is also very close to my heart. In this book I have brought these two places together as my hero and heroine learn about themselves and each other.

      Alice meets the gorgeous and dangerously sexy Dr Dante Corsi in Florence, and has a brief but intense affair with him. But Dante doesn’t know that Alice is keeping a secret from him. She is not the woman he thinks she is, but is Lady Alice Granville, daughter of one of the richest men in England.

      When Dante discovers the truth, and that Alice is planning to come to work as a volunteer in Africa, where he works as one of the camp doctors, he is dismayed. Not only does he not believe she will be able to cope with the harsh conditions of camp life, but he has sworn not to let her back into his heart.

      As they work together Dante learns that, despite her high heels and manicured nails, Alice is determined to make herself useful, and she is soon an essential part of the camp—and his life.

      But can he trust this woman? And, even if he can, does he have the right to take her away from her privileged life? Can Alice make him believe in love again?

      I hope you enjoy finding out.

      Best wishes

       Anne Fraser

      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.

       Dedication:

       To Lisa, for showing me the real Italy. Mille grazie, bella.

      PROLOGUE

      ALICE picked up her pencil and made a few more strokes on her pad. Somehow her depiction of Michelangelo’s David wasn’t going according to plan. In her drawing he looked more like the Incredible Hulk than one of the world’s masterpieces.

      She had come to the Piazza della Signoria as soon as it was light so that she would be there before the tourists. Florence was teeming with them and it wasn’t really surprising that the Italian city was so popular, it was an art lover’s dream. Everywhere Alice looked there were statues, stunning architecture and amazing works of art that she’d only ever read about. Only yesterday she had seen the original statue of Michelangelo’s David and had been moved to tears. Now she was here in the square to sketch the copy.

      Even at eight o’clock in the morning the square was filling rapidly. She decided to give it another hour before packing up.

      Picking up her pencil again, she sighed with pleasure as the sun warmed her skin. This was the first time she’d been truly content for as long as she could remember. Here in Florence she could be anonymous, nobody knew or cared who she was and that suited her just fine. There were no paparazzi ready to leap out at her to snap a photograph that would be splashed all over the next day’s gossip magazines. No dinners or functions to attend. No home to run. For these, all-too-short three weeks, she was simply Alice Granville.

      She held her pad at arm’s length and surveyed it critically. She wasn’t much of an artist and never would be, but she was bored with hanging about the villa and wanted to record some of the great stuff she had seen. When she’d finished here she’d go and have a coffee and one of those delicious pastries at a café. It was her daily treat. The trouble was that she liked food. Every time

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