‘A compelling, emotional and highly poignant read that I couldn’t bear to put down. Rich in pathos, humour and dramatic intensity, it’s a spellbinding tale about healing old wounds, having the courage to listen to your heart and the power of love that kept me enthralled from beginning to end.’
—GoodReads on ONCE UPON A CHRISTMAS NIGHT
‘A lovely story—I really enjoyed this book, which was well-written by Annie as always.’
—GoodReads on
RE-AWAKENING HIS SHY NURSE
‘Well-written brilliant characters—I have never been disappointed by a book written by Annie Claydon.’
—GoodReads on
THE REBEL AND MISS JONES
‘I’d like some company.’
He reached forward and found her hand. When he pulled her glove off it felt as if he was undressing her. He laid his gentle fingers around hers, and it was as if they were naked already. Neve leaned forward, brushing her lips against his.
The suddenness of his next move activated his seat belt, and for a moment he was pinned against the seat. Cursing, he punched the release, twisting round and pulling her into his arms. Sudden heat jolted through her when he kissed her.
‘Come inside.’
The gear-shift was in the way, and the steering wheel wouldn’t allow him to get as close as she’d like. Their clothes wouldn’t allow him to get as close as she’d like…
‘If I let you go…?’
‘You’re going to have to. One step back and two steps forward.’
His lips curved against hers. ‘I like the way you think…’
When I was writing my first book, one of the (many) details I worried about was the fact that I’d described a very sharp frost and frozen pipes before Christmas. Would this be entirely believable? In the previous few years we’d had mild winters, without any really cold weather before Christmas. But the unpredictable British climate came to my rescue, and December 2010—the winter before that first book was published—was one of the coldest we’d experienced for a hundred years, with enough snow to make my December cold snap seem a little bit understated!
So this time around I’ve no qualms about giving my characters something a bit more extreme to deal with. Dr Neve Harrison doesn’t have the luxury of being able to give in to adverse weather conditions. She’s struggling to get to all her patients, despite heavy snow and blocked roads. So when Joe Lamont turns up on her doorstep, ready and able to help, it seems that her luck has changed.
Together, they’re more than a match for those adverse weather conditions—but Joe himself is a more daunting proposition. His secrets threaten to break Neve’s heart, and deprive her of the thing she wants most in the world.
I hope you enjoy Joe and Neve’s story. I’m always thrilled to hear from readers, and you can contact me via my website at www.annieclaydon.com
Annie x
Cursed from an early age with a poor sense of direction and a propensity to read, ANNIE CLAYDON spent much of her childhood lost in books. After completing her degree in English Literature she indulged her love of romantic fiction and spent a long, hot summer writing a book of her own. It was duly rejected and life took over. A series of U-turns led in the unlikely direction of a career in computing and information technology, but the lure of the printed page proved too much to bear, and she now has the perfect outlet for the stories which have always run through her head, writing Medical Romance™ for Mills & Boon®. Living in London—a city where getting lost can be a joy—she has no regrets for having taken her time in working her way back to the place that she started from.
Snowbound
with the Surgeon
Annie Claydon
To Noreen, who taught me how to end well.
Table of Contents
Praise for Annie Claydon
Dear Reader
Dedication
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
CHAPTER NINETEEN
THIRTY PACES TO her gate. Neve counted them all. After that, ten paces would be enough to take her up the front path. It turned out to be eleven because she slipped on the ice, grabbing at the porch rails to steady herself and wrenching her shoulder as her heavy medical bag fell to the ground.
She waved her hand in front of the sensor for the porch light, and nothing happened. The electricity was still off, then. All the same, the cast-iron stove in the kitchen would be throwing out heat, and she couldn’t wait to get inside. Just as she was about to savour the moment of sliding the key into the lock of her own front door, her phone rang. Dammit. If she had to go out in the snow again tonight…
If she had to go out again tonight, then so be it. She’d turn around, slide