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Автор: Carol Marinelli
Издательство: HarperCollins
Серия:
Жанр произведения: Зарубежные любовные романы
Год издания: 0
isbn: 9781474085250
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       CHAPTER TWO

       CHAPTER THREE

       CHAPTER FOUR

       CHAPTER FIVE

       CHAPTER SIX

       CHAPTER SEVEN

       CHAPTER EIGHT

       CHAPTER NINE

       CHAPTER TEN

       CHAPTER ELEVEN

       St. Piran’s: Daredevil, Doctor…Dad!

       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

       EPILOGUE

       About the Publisher

       St. Piran’s: Rescuing Pregnant Cinderella

      Carol Marinelli

      Will St. Piran’s Cinderella get her happy-ever-after?

      Single and pregnant, Dr. Izzy Bailey is nervous on her first day back at St. Piran’s Hospital. Is everyone talking behind her back? It seems the only person to quiet the gossip—and the tiny babies—is neonatal nurse Diego Ramirez.

      Diego can see the walls around Izzy’s heart, but this knee-wobblingly charming Spaniard finds a way to make her smile. Until she goes into labor dangerously early....

      Watching Diego cradle her fragile newborn baby in his strong, tanned arms makes Izzy think this just might be the beginning of a fairy tale for all three of them....

       CHAPTER ONE

      ‘I’M READY to come back to St Piran’s.’

      No words filled the silence, there was no quick response to her statement, so Izzy ploughed on, determined to make a good impression with Jess, the hospital counsellor. ‘I’m really looking forward to being back at work.’ Izzy’s voice was upbeat. ‘I know that a few people have suggested that I wait till the baby is born, I mean, given that I can only work for a couple of months, but I really think that this is the right thing for me.’

      Still Jess said nothing, still Izzy argued to the silence. ‘I’m ready to move on with my life. I’ve put the house on the market....’ She felt as if she were at an interview, effectively she was at an interview. After the terrible events of four months ago, Ben Carter, the senior consultant in A and E, had told her to take all the time she needed before she came back to the unit where she worked as an emergency registrar.

      It would have been far easier to not come

      back, and at nearly twenty-eight weeks pregnant she’d had every reason to put it off, but Izzy had finally taken the plunge, and instead of ringing Ben to tell him her decision, she had dropped by unannounced. But to her surprise, instead of welcoming her back with open arms, Ben had gently but firmly informed her that it would be preferable if she see one of the hospital counsellors.

      ‘I’m fine!’ Izzy had said. ‘I don’t need to see a counsellor.’

      ‘You are seeing someone, though?’ Ben had correctly interpreted the beat of silence.

      ‘I was.’ Izzy had swallowed. ‘But I’m fine now.’

      ‘Good!’ Ben had clipped. ‘Then you won’t have a problem speaking with someone else.’

      ‘Ben!’ Izzy had hardly been able to contain her fury. ‘It’s been four months! You know me—’

      ‘Izzy!’ Ben had interrupted, refusing to be manipulated. ‘I worked with you daily, I’ve been to your home, I got on well with Henry and yet I had no idea what you were going through, so, no, I’m not convinced I do know you or that you’d come to me if you had a problem.’

      Izzy had sat with pursed lips. Ben could be so incredibly kind yet so incredibly tough too—he would let nothing jeopardise the safety of his patients or his staff and he was also completely honest and open, so open it actually hurt to hear it sometimes. ‘I’ve spoken with my senior colleagues...’

      ‘You’ve discussed me?’

      ‘Of course,’ Ben had replied. ‘And we all agree that coming back to A and E after all you’ve been through is going to be tough, that we need to look out for you, and rather than us asking every five minutes if you’re okay, which I know will drive you crazy, I’m going to insist that you see someone. I can page Jess Carmichael—she’s good, all very informal, you can go for a walk, have a coffee...’

      ‘I’m not sitting in the canteen, chatting about my life!’ Izzy had bristled. ‘I’ll see her in her office.’

      ‘Fine,’ Ben had responded, and then his voice had softened. ‘We want what’s best for you Izzy.’

      So here she was, on a Friday lunchtime, just before her first shift back, again sitting in a counsellor’s office, telling the same thing to Jess that she had to Ben, to her mother, to her friends, that she was fine.

      Fine!

      ‘It’s often suggested,’ Jess said, when Izzy had told her that her house was on the market, ‘that people wait twelve months