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The Doctor She'd Never Forget
The Doctor She'd Never Forget
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The Doctor She'd Never Forget

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The Doctor She'd Never Forget
Annie Claydon

Making new memories… Neurologist Drew Taylor never expected to find himself working on a glitzy film set–but stunning star Sophie Warner is far from the spoiled diva he imagined…she's lost her memory!Drew can only help Sophie if he wins her trust–easier said than done when her ex-boyfriend has betrayed her by leaking damaging photos to the press. Yet the chemistry between them is undeniable, and one scorching kiss makes it even more difficult to keep things professional!But do they have a future together if Sophie can't remember her past?

Praise for Annie Claydon (#ulink_07aa8b7e-ef1a-56f4-8363-545094054097)

‘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

Wow. Just…wow.

By some unknown process which defied medical principles blood rushed simultaneously to Drew’s head and down to another part of his body that he’d been trying to ignore for the last two weeks. Sophie had pulled out all of the stops this time, and the transformation made him want to fall to his knees.

She glittered… no, shimmered…in a dark blue sequinned dress which clung to her curves. High silver sandals made her legs look impossibly long, and she held a small silver and blue clutch bag. Her hair was done in a gravity-defying arrangement of curls which framed her face perfectly.

‘You look…’ Words failed him.

She smiled, and a bright shiver ran down his spine. ‘Is that good speechless or bad speechless?’

‘Good. Definitely good speechless.’ Confounded as he was by her magic, Drew still couldn’t quite square the mathematics of six boxes and only one dress. ‘So what did your fairy godmother put in the other boxes?’

‘I had a choice of dresses.’ She giggled at his obvious confusion. ‘Designers lend things out all the time. It’s good publicity for them if a celebrity wears their latest creation.’

A sudden desire to see her in all six was quenched by the thought that she looked just perfect and he wouldn’t change a thing. He rose, pulling his jacket on and she smiled, looking him up and down unashamedly.

‘You scrub up pretty well too, Dr Taylor.’

Dear Reader (#ulink_61883cec-e5ae-52d5-b140-fd0f67d61f8a),

There are times when being a writer gives me the opportunity to have a great deal of fun. Sophie Warner’s part in a film set in the 1940s meant I needed to know something about the costumes she might wear. And how better to find out than to ask two ladies whose memories stretch way back? I owe a big thank-you to Joan and Betty, who told me everything I needed to know—along with some funny stories that I don’t dare repeat! Thanks also to Lynne, for bringing both laughter and cake.

It makes me smile just to think of that morning. As I wrote this book I came to understand how much I define myself by the things I remember. Sophie’s traumatic brain injury has deprived her of the ability to retain all her memories. Some aren’t important, but what happens when you can’t remember the name of the man you might be falling in love with? And how can she defend herself when she doesn’t remember those compromising pictures on the internet ever being taken?

It’s not easy for Drew Taylor, either. A love affair is all about memories—the first time you kissed, that first touch. He’s not sure how he would cope if Sophie were to wake in the morning with no idea of what had happened the night before.

Thank you for reading Drew and Sophie’s story. I always enjoy hearing from readers, and you can contact me via my website at annieclaydon.com (http://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.

The Doctor She’d Never Forget

Annie Claydon

www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)

To my dear friend Betty

Table of Contents

Cover (#u3adafaed-647d-5c61-b33d-9de2c3146830)

Praise for Annie Claydon (#u160df7e4-6668-5d14-ba10-0208a83c1be6)

Excerpt (#ufc6a2c2b-a3a7-54a1-893c-90070315bfa5)

Dear Reader (#ucca629a7-e731-5674-8473-4ab454465f41)

About the Author (#u7bcd7d6a-e805-56d4-9579-fd3cde73a69b)

Title Page (#uf86de8a1-599f-549c-a4a8-46825bbc7fd1)

Dedication (#u49e479f2-b459-5217-8a6c-6014bd7e2b02)

CHAPTER ONE (#uc7b38c52-768e-5c4f-9bb5-51b90ec433ee)

CHAPTER TWO (#ub67bd2a3-c274-5554-9fef-491437bbfb15)

CHAPTER THREE (#u0634a979-df94-5662-9585-8e0ba1728292)

CHAPTER FOUR (#ue8168a0a-38ff-56b6-a030-b8132ab9ac7f)

CHAPTER FIVE (#u6a5b3b70-c481-50ba-aebd-7a630130d94a)

CHAPTER SIX (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER SEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER EIGHT (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER NINE (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER TEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER ELEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER TWELVE (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER THIRTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER FOURTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER FIFTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER SIXTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)

EPILOGUE (#litres_trial_promo)

Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER ONE (#ulink_d5a7faea-c81d-50cc-bad0-de3a738dd8fd)

FIVE MILES FELT a lot further than it had used to. The final hundred yards of Drew Taylor’s morning run left him feeling dizzy and sick from exertion.

‘Morning.’

If he hadn’t been so keen to gulp down a pint of water and collapse into a chair, Drew would have noticed the canary-yellow sports car parked across the street from his house and reckoned that Charlie would be around somewhere. As it was, the voice behind him came as a surprise.

‘Morning…’ Now that he’d reached his destination, Drew’s body gave up and bent double, his lungs craving air.

‘You’re out of shape, old man.’

‘Very probably. Is that what you came to tell me?’ Drew gripped his knees, staring hard at the paving stones at his feet, gasping for air.

‘Nah.’ Charlie shrugged and waited until Drew had recovered sufficiently to let them into the house. ‘I have a proposition for you.’

Charlie’s propositions were liable to get him into trouble. Their friendship had lasted since their university days on the basis that Drew was choosy about which of them he took seriously. ‘What?’

‘Hydrate first. You look as if you need it.’

‘That sounds ominous.’

‘Nah. This one’s a stroke of genius.’

‘Yeah. They always are.’ Drew poured himself a glass of water, while Charlie flipped open the kitchen cupboard, looking for coffee.

‘You’ve only got one coffee pod left.’

Drew shrugged. ‘Take it. I’m not drinking coffee at the moment.’

Charlie twisted the edges of his mouth down, and put the pod into the machine. ‘Not sleeping?’

‘I’m not used to doing nothing…’ Drew took a mouthful of water. That was only half the story and they both knew it.

It was his own stupid fault that he was stuck at home with nothing to do. When the hospital he’d worked in—actually lived for—had first been threatened with closure, Drew had spearheaded the campaign to keep it open. It had been a two-year struggle, culminating in failure and defeat.

When he’d finally faced the inevitable, and begun to look for another job, he’d landed one with relative ease. Head of a new memory clinic in London, which was due to open in three months’ time. In any other circumstances it would have been the job that Drew’s dreams were made of but now it was tainted by loss, and he was having difficulty working up much enthusiasm for it.

‘You’ll be thanking me in a minute, then.’ Charlie smiled beatifically.

Drew gave up. When Charlie got hold of an idea, he didn’t let go. They weren’t always good ideas, but enough of them had been great to make his friend a millionaire before his thirtieth birthday.

‘Okay. What am I going to be thanking you for?’

‘Someone I know has asked me for a favour, and I think it could work out perfectly for you. It’s a job…’

‘I have a job, remember?’

‘This is temporary. It’s a fantastic opportunity to get away from it all, take a bit of a break. Two weeks, a month tops…’ Charlie stopped, pressing his lips together. ‘This is absolutely top secret. Totally confidential and between ourselves.’

Generally Charlie’s idea of confidential was that it didn’t get as far as the newspapers quite yet, but it appeared this really was a secret. Drew chuckled. ‘Understood.’

‘Okay. Well, you’ve heard of Sophie Warner?’

Drew thought for a moment. The name rang a bell, but he couldn’t place it. ‘I don’t think so.’

Charlie rolled his eyes. ‘She’s a big star. Gorgeous. Didn’t you see MacAdam on TV?’

‘I doubt it. Look, I’ll take it as read. Sophie Warner, brightest star in the firmament. What’s that got to do with me?’

‘Well, a friend of mine from America has contacted me. Carly’s an assistant director and she’s known Sophie Warner for years, since before she was famous. The two of them are working on a film together down in Devon at the moment.’

Friends of friends of friends. In Charlie’s world it was all about who you knew, not what you knew. Drew bit back the comment, reckoning that Charlie would get to the point quicker if he didn’t interrupt.

‘So they did the first lot of filming over here last winter. Just caught that heavy fall of snow we had, which was a bonus, and everything went like clockwork. Now they’re back again to do the summer scenes, and they’ve run into trouble.’

‘What kind of trouble?’ Drew couldn’t think of anything that his particular skills might help with on a film set. Apart from an outbreak of food poisoning, and a local doctor could deal with that.

‘There’s something the matter with Sophie. She’s acting like a diva—tantrums on set, turning up late, not learning her lines. She’s had a load of bad press in the last couple of months…’ Charlie shook his head. ‘We won’t go into that.’

It must be very bad if Charlie’s sense of discretion had kicked in. The woman sounded like a nightmare. ‘And what’s that got to do with me? I’m a neurologist, not a minder for spoilt children.’

‘That’s just the thing. Carly knows Sophie and she swears that this is not just the usual film star bad behaviour. She’s sticking her neck out here, and putting her own job on the line to protect Sophie, because she thinks there’s something wrong with her.’

‘What sort of something?’

Charlie rolled his eyes. ‘If we knew that, we wouldn’t ask you, would we? Apparently Sophie was in a car accident a few months back and she just hasn’t been right since. She’s been shutting herself away for days, running off no one knows where. You get the picture…’

The picture was becoming horribly clear. ‘And your friend wants me to go down there and examine an errant film star, to see if I can come up with some medical excuse for her bad behaviour?’

‘No.’ Drew heaved a sigh of relief. ‘Carly’s already tried to get Sophie to go to a doctor and she won’t have any of it. Sophie’s playing a doctor in this film and so Carly wants to take you on as a set medical advisor. So you can watch Sophie and see if there really is anything wrong with her.’

‘What? You have to be joking…’ Drew drained his glass, setting it down on the kitchen counter with a crack. ‘I can’t do that, Charlie. It’s an ethical minefield.’

‘No, it’s not. I’ve seen you step into situations before without being asked. What about that time you bundled my gran into the car and took her up to the hospital?’