Demanding, devoted and drop-dead gorgeous—these Latin doctors will make your heart race!
Smolderingly sexy Mediterranean doctors
Saving lives by day…red-hot lovers by night
Read these four MEDITERRANEAN DOCTORS stories in this new collection by your favorite authors, available from Harlequin Presents EXTRA October 2008:
The Sicilian Doctor’s Mistress
Sarah Morgan
The Italian Count’s Baby
Amy Andrews
Spanish Doctor, Pregnant Nurse
Carol Marinelli
The Spanish Doctor’s Love-Child
Kate Hardy
CAROL MARINELLI finds writing a bio rather like writing her New Year’s resolutions. Oh, she’d love to say that since she wrote the last one, she now goes to the gym regularly and doesn’t stop for coffee and cake and a gossip afterward; that she’s incredibly organized and writes for a few productive hours a day after tidying her immaculate house and taking a brisk walk with the dog.
The reality is Carol spends an inordinate amount of time daydreaming about dark, brooding men and exotic places (research), which doesn’t leave too much time for the gym, housework or anything that comes in between. And her most productive writing hours happen to be in the middle of the night, which leaves her in a constant state of bewildered exhaustion.
Originally from England, Carol now lives in Melbourne, Australia. She adores going back to the U.K. for a visit—actually, she adores going anywhere for a visit—and constantly (expensively) strives to overcome her fear of flying. She has three gorgeous children who are growing up so fast (too fast—they’ve just worked out that she lies about her age!) and keep her busy with a never-ending round of homework, sport and friends coming over.
A nurse and a writer, Carol writes for the Harlequin Presents and Medical Romance lines, and is passionate about both. She loves the fast-paced, busy setting of a modern hospital, but every now and then admits it’s bliss to escape to the glamorous, alluring world of her heroes and heroines. A bit like her real life actually!
Spanish Doctor, Pregnant Nurse
Carol Marinelli
Contents
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
EPILOGUE
‘HAVE you seen him yet?’
Harriet Farrell had barely taken her jacket off before the question on everyone’s lips was directed at her.
‘I assume we’re talking about the new consultant,’ Harriet responded, rolling pale blue eyes heavenwards. ‘I’ve already had two of the late staff waylay me and tell me how divine he is. And, no,’ she added, turning to the mirror and pulling her straight, sandy red hair back into a ponytail. ‘I haven’t seen him.’
‘He’s divine,’ Charlotte, one of the grad nurses, sighed dreamily. ‘Spanish,’ she added, as if that information alone was enough to exalt him to sex-idol status.
‘Well, with a name like Ciro Delgato, even I’d managed to work that one out,’ Harriet responded with a dry note to her voice. ‘I just hope he’s good at his job. Have you seen how full the waiting room is? Unless Dr Divine is as good as his résumé attests, we could be in for a very long night.’
‘Oh, come on, Harriet, don’t be such a killjoy. Anyone would think you didn’t want to be here tonight.’ Susan, one of the more senior nurses on the night shift, grinned. ‘I’m as happily married as you are, but it doesn’t mean that we can’t appreciate a fine specimen when he comes along, particularly one with a dreamy accent! It certainly makes a night shift in Emergency go faster.’
‘Ah, but you’re not married to Drew Farrell, Susan,’ Charlotte teased, not noticing Harriet’s flaming cheeks as she rummaged in her bag for red and blue pens. ‘I, for one, wouldn’t want to leave my famous, good-looking husband alone in bed to do a Saturday night shift in this place, no matter how good-looking the new consultant was.’
It had been meant as a joke, Harriet knew that.
But even as she watched her colleagues head out for handover, even as she smiled and told them she’d be along in a few minutes, her throat was so thick with emotion she thought she might break down at any moment. Charlotte’s comment had been so inadvertently near the mark it felt as if Charlotte must have read her diary.
Not that Harriet kept one!
Sitting down on one of the rickety plastic chairs, she allowed herself the indulgence of a few moments alone, letting the bright smile that was so much her nature slip for a while.
And she should have a lot to smile about.
Married to Drew Farrell, living in a gorgeous house in an exclusive beach-side suburb in Sydney, attending A-list events draped in the latest fashions. It was easier to smile and say that life was great than open up to relative strangers and admit the truth, easier to just carry on pretending that she and Drew were the perfect, golden couple.
If only they knew the truth.
Burying her burning cheeks in her hands, she let out a low moan.
If only they knew that ‘happy’ was the last word she’d use to describe her marriage right now. If only they knew how hard it had been to paint on a smile and come to work tonight because they were desperately short of experienced staff. That just because she was married to a man whose name seemed to be on the tip of every thirteen-year-old’s lips, just because the man that adorned teenagers’ walls also shared her bed, it didn’t automatically mean that life was wonderful. Standing up, Harriet stared into the mirror, every freckle magnified somehow,