Fiona McArthur - Seduction In Sydney

Seduction in Sydney

Sydney Harbour Hospital: Marco’s Temptation

Fiona McArthur

Sydney Harbour Hospital: Ava’s Re-Awakening

Carol Marinelli

Sydney Harbour Hospital: Evie’s Bombshell

Amy Andrews

www.millsandboon.co.uk

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Cover

Title Page Seduction in Sydney Sydney Harbour Hospital: Marco’s Temptation Fiona McArthur Sydney Harbour Hospital: Ava’s Re-Awakening Carol Marinelli Sydney Harbour Hospital: Evie’s Bombshell Amy Andrews www.millsandboon.co.uk

Sydney Harbour Hospital: Marco’s Temptation Sydney Harbour Hospital: Marco’s Temptation Fiona McArthur

About the Author A mother to five sons, FIONA MCARTHUR is an Australian midwife who loves to write. Medical Romance gives Fiona the scope to write about all the wonderful aspects of adventure, romance, medicine and midwifery that she feels so passionate about—as well as an excuse to travel! Now that her boys are older, Fiona and her husband Ian are off to meet new people, see new places, and have wonderful adventures. Fiona’s website is at www.fionamcarthur.com .

Dedication To Flo, who went above and beyond to help me do justice to Marco. Looking forward to more journeys with glee, Fi. xx

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

Sydney Harbour Hospital: Ava’s Re-Awakening

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

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

EPILOGUE

Sydney Harbour Hospital: Evie’s Bombshell

Dedication

PROLOGUE

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

EPILOGUE

Copyright

Sydney Harbour Hospital: Marco’s Temptation

Fiona McArthur

A mother to five sons, FIONA MCARTHURis an Australian midwife who loves to write. Medical Romance gives Fiona the scope to write about all the wonderful aspects of adventure, romance, medicine and midwifery that she feels so passionate about—as well as an excuse to travel! Now that her boys are older, Fiona and her husband Ian are off to meet new people, see new places, and have wonderful adventures.

Fiona’s website is at www.fionamcarthur.com.

To Flo, who went above and beyond to help me do justice to Marco.

Looking forward to more journeys with glee, Fi. xx

MARCO D’ARVELLO paused in a pool of sunlight on the suspended walkway and watched the boats in Sydney Harbour. Not your usual view from a hospital corridor. He hoped to do more than just observe this country before he had to leave, but once this last client was seen he was booked up with all the surgery he could manage before he moved on.

That was how he liked it.

His attention returned to the consultant’s referral in his hand. ‘Foetal urinary obstruction.’ Should be a fairly simple scope and shunt, he mused as he pushed open the door to his temporary rooms. The lack of waiting-room chairs meant his patients had to wait in his office. It wasn’t really ideal but the view was worth it.

‘ Buongiorno , Marlise.’

His borrowed secretary blushed. ‘Good morning, Dr D’Arvello.’

‘Please, you must call me Marco.’ He perched on the edge of her desk, oblivious to the flutter he caused, and peered across at her computer screen. ‘Has Miss Cooper arrived?’

Marlise sucked in her stomach and pointed one manicured figure at the screen. ‘Yes. About ten minutes ago.’

‘Bene.’ No time for dawdling. He hated tardiness himself.

When Marco strode through his door the view of the harbour and his nebulous thoughts of probable intra-uterine surgery paled into the background as Miss Cooper’s smooth bob swung towards him.

Bellissima! The sun danced on the molten highlights of her hair like the boats on the waves outside, and emerald eyes, direct and calm against his suddenly dazed scrutiny, stared back at him as he crossed the room and held out his hand.

She shifted the big handbag on her lap and a smaller one as well, and stood up. Two bags? He forgot the bags, focussed on the slender hand in front of his, and remembered to breathe. Her fingers were cool and firm and he forced himself to let them slide from his grasp.

Her face. Serenity, wisdom, yet vulnerable? How could that be? She was older than he had expected, perhaps late twenties, maybe early thirties, the perfect age, and where she hid her baby he did not know, but she certainly had that gorgeous pregnant glow about her.

Marco consulted his notes to give time to assemble his scattered thoughts but he only grew more confused. Twenty-six weeks’ gestation? ‘You don’t look very … um … pregnant.’ Hell. Say something unprofessional, why don’t you?

Emily Cooper blinked. They hadn’t told her the new hotshot O and G consultant exuded raw magnetism like a roving gypsy king. Hair too long, too dark, windswept, and gorgeous velvety brown eyes that made her want to melt into the hospital carpet.

Her have another baby? If she could make her mouth work it’d better not laugh. ‘I’m not pregnant.’ Once was enough, she thought.

She hadn’t had a relationship in who knew how long. Her shaky legs suggested she sit, but once safely down she felt like a sex-starved midget with him towering over her. But it wasn’t only that, it was the whole broad-shouldered, ‘span your waist with his big hands’ thing that was happening. A random ‘if I was going to have sex it would have to be with someone like him’ thought that made her blink. Not her usual fantasy—that was more in line with ‘wish I could sleep the clock around’.

Thankfully he stepped around the desk and she savoured the relief of increased space between them.

‘But you’re here for in-utero surgery … yes?’ Such a delicious Italian accent. Emily tasted the sound like chocolate on her tongue.

Marco stared at the paper in his hand. He could easily grasp the most complicated sequences of micro-surgery but this he could not fathom. Not only the sudden misbehaviour of his rampant sex hormones but the concept of being inexplicably glad Miss Cooper was not pregnant. It was all very strange. Perhaps with the desk between them his brain would function.

Before she could answer, the sound of footsteps and a young woman appeared hurriedly at the door. Things fell quickly into place.

‘How could you start without me, Mum?’

Fool. He felt like smacking his forehead. But excellent. He could see the similarities as the still barely pregnant-looking daughter came into his office with a mulish look to her rosebud mouth as she took the other handbag from her mother.