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Her Celebrity Surgeon
Kate Hardy
Fiery registrar Sophie Harrison has never been more furious! She is convinced the new director of surgery has been appointed only for his title. Baron Rupert Charles Radley is a man never out of the gossip rags, with a different woman in tow each week. Experience tells her not to trust men of his class.Charlie turns out to be gorgeous. Yet after being stalked by paparazzi and finding pictures of the two of them splashed across Celebrity Life magazine, Sophie is determined to keep a low profile. Except, she's slowly learning that beneath the prestige, title and white coat is a genuine, caring and very sexy man!
He couldn’t stop himself. Charlie bent his head and very gently brushed his mouth against hers. And Sophie was starting to kiss him back.
God, he wanted this so much. Wanted to feel her body close to his. Wanted her to kiss his demons away.
It couldn’t happen. He had to stop.
Except he couldn’t. Not when it felt so good, so right, to hold her and kiss her.
The beep of a car horn shocked them apart.
He dragged in a breath. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that. I just…” Just couldn’t help himself. Wanted to be a real person for once, instead of Charlie, Baron Radley. Wanted Sophie’s warmth to enfold him.
“Don’t worry. I won’t be ringing Celebrity Life to give them a kiss-and-tell,” she said dryly.
He shook his head. “That isn’t what I meant. But we have to work together. I think it’s best if we ignore what just happened.”
Honorable, eligible and in demand!
Baron Rupert Charles Radley
The Hon. Sebastian Henry Radley
The Hon. Victoria Radley
Three aristocratic doctors, the very best in their field, who just can’t avoid the limelight!
In this exciting and emotional new trilogy from bestselling author Kate Hardy read how these eligible medics do their best to stay single—but find love where they least expect it.
HER CELEBRITY SURGEON
Baron Rupert Charles Radley
(aka Director of Surgery) meets his match with fiery registrar Dr. Sophie Harrison. The paparazzi have a field day!
Sebastian’s story from Mills & Boon® Medical Romance™!
Her Celebrity Surgeon
Kate Hardy
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
For Maggie, Sue and Sandy—with love
CONTENTS
Cover (#ua6b142f8-41af-5705-9b76-ad11dad6d1fd)
Excerpt (#u84612474-240a-5680-8f6b-8da689e0a05b)
Title Page (#u6114d5b0-dbc3-594a-80dd-ee3fa48787d8)
Dedication (#u98b5f553-3c8a-5ac6-9efe-06bbf24816b6)
CHAPTER ONE (#ua0462eb7-00d7-5c9e-ac8a-d8d7b64a862c)
CHAPTER TWO (#uffe60f87-a2d4-58af-a1d4-12c6e5cdbf33)
CHAPTER THREE (#uada79ff2-a6e3-544c-98a2-f0591ac3d549)
CHAPTER FOUR (#uc3aec693-8670-5992-a989-10f03a4cfd87)
CHAPTER FIVE (#litres_trial_promo)
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)
Extract (#litres_trial_promo)
Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER ONE (#ulink_2c990a6d-b705-5e32-bdc9-7689b519d959)
HALF past eight. Sophie groaned inwardly. She’d probably missed the party for Guy’s promotion to Director of Surgery, but no way could she have left her patient in the middle of the operating table. And she never, but never, left the ward until her patients had been round from the anaesthetic for at least half an hour. You never knew with surgery: one moment, your patient was fine; the next, all hell could be let loose and you might even need to go back into Theatre.
But when she finally made it into the wine bar opposite the hospital, Guy was on his own. ‘Don’t tell me that rotten lot went off to get food and gave you the short straw of waiting till I got here, when it’s your party?’ she asked.
‘No. The party’s off.’
‘Why?’
He shrugged. ‘The job went to an external candidate.’
‘Oh, Guy. I’m so sorry.’ He was a brilliant surgeon and a nice bloke, too. It really wasn’t fair. ‘I was so sure…’
‘It means you’re stuck where you are, too, Soph.’
Because she’d been in line for promotion to Guy’s job. She waved her hand to protest at his bitter tone. ‘Hey. My promotion wasn’t a given, anyway. They couldn’t advertise the job until your promotion had been announced—and I might not even have made it to the interview stage.’ She could see in his face that he was brooding. And he’d had more than his share of hassles this year, with an acrimonious divorce. His wife had blamed her affair on Guy spending too much time on his career. Time that clearly hadn’t paid off.
‘Come on, let’s have a commiseration drink instead. I’ll shout you a curry. We can put the world to rights, and stick two fingers up at the hospital board—who clearly can’t see talent when it’s two millimetres in front of their noses.’
‘You’re good for my ego.’
Not as good as Abby would have been—Guy’s house officer, who’d admitted to Sophie in the changing rooms a few weeks ago that she had the hots for Guy—but Sophie could work on that. A few judiciously dropped hints, and maybe Guy would see what was two millimetres in front of his nose.
When they’d settled themselves comfortably in the local curry house and ordered their meal, Sophie turned the conversation back to Guy’s bad news.
‘I hate to rub salt in your wounds, Guy, but do you know anything about the new director of surgery?’
‘R. C. Radley, you mean?’
The name was familiar, but she couldn’t think why. She nodded.
‘He’s a plastic surgeon.’
‘We’re going to have a nip-and-tuck merchant in charge of surgery? Oh, great. No prizes for guessing where all the new equipment’s going to go, then.’ Damn. And she’d raised half the money for the equipment she had her eye on. It looked as if she’d have to raise the other half, too.
‘And he went to a certain well-known public school.’
Uh-oh. There was a distinct whiff of fish in the air. ‘Eton?’
Guy nodded.
Like some of the members of the board. Sophie rolled her eyes. Now she understood what had been puzzling her—why Guy had been passed over. ‘So the old-boy network strikes again, then?’
‘Yep.’
‘It sucks, Guy, it really does—but don’t let it get to you. There’ll be other chances.’ She raised her glass of beer. ‘Here’s to us. You and me, and a brilliant surgical team.’ Though she wasn’t going to drink to their new director of surgery. Not until after she’d met him and seen if he was worth drinking to.
‘Mr R. C. Radley. Why does his name ring a bell?’ she asked.
‘He’s not a Mr. He’s a lord.’
‘He’s a what?’
‘A baron,’ Guy told her.
Baron Radley? The board had appointed a baron to run the surgical team? Sophie’s mouth tightened. ‘So instead of giving the job to someone who can do it blindfolded, the board’s made a political appointment. Someone who’s got the right name and the right title.’ And the right accent. Sharp, braying, coupled with a mocking, hearty guffaw as he…She shook herself. No. That had been years ago, and she was over it now. Over it.
‘Soph, hang on. You’re being a bit—’
‘No, I’m absolutely right,’ she cut in. ‘They’ve gone for something that will bring some press coverage for the hospital, instead of thinking about what’s right for the patients. And that stinks.’ She frowned again. ‘Baron Radley…Isn’t he the one in all the gossip mags?’ The ones her mum read. Now she remembered where she’d heard the name. Celebrity Life. Baron Radley had been photographed with just about every eligible woman in London—every woman with a title or who looked like a supermodel. There was a different woman on his arm every time he went somewhere. She shook her head in disbelief. ‘Oh, for goodness’ sake, what does the board think they’re doing? We ought to—’
‘Leave it, Soph,’ Guy warned. ‘Like you said, there’ll be other chances. None of us can expect to get every job we go for.’
‘But it’s wrong. It’s morally wrong that they’ve picked someone with a title instead of someone who can do the job.’
‘He might be a good surgeon. And there’s nothing we can do about it anyway.’
She sighed, knowing that he was right. ‘At least, working in general surgery, we won’t have to have much to do with him,’ she said.
‘Let’s just forget about it, yeah?’ Guy asked.
She nodded as their curry arrived, but the knot of tension at the back of her neck was starting to tighten again. How old was their new director of surgery exactly? Had he been one of the gang who…?
She wasn’t going to think about them. It had been years ago. If she let the memories hold her back, they’d win. And she was damned sure they weren’t going to grind her into the dust again. The chances were, R. C. Radley hadn’t been one of them anyway. He was probably Guy’s age, in his mid-to-late thirties—he’d probably finished med school before Sophie had even finished her A-levels. She certainly couldn’t remember being at med school with anybody called Radley. And if he was older than she was, it was unlikely he’d been part of their social set either.
They kept the conversation on more neutral topics for the rest of the meal—avoiding hospital politics—but as they left the restaurant Sophie realised with dismay that Guy must have drunk several glasses of wine while he’d been waiting for her to turn up, as well as several beers during their meal. Not only was he slightly unsteady on his feet but, when Sophie steadied his arm, he put his arms round her and tried to kiss her.
Sophie turned her face away so his lips landed wetly on her cheek. ‘Come on, Guy. I’ll call a cab to get you home.’
‘Come home with me, Soph.’
‘Not a good idea. You’d regret it in the morning.’
He smiled. ‘Waking up to a gorgeous girl like you? No.’
She shook her head. ‘Guy, it’s the drink talking. I’m your mate, not your girlfriend. You used to be my boss, remember?’
‘Not since you got promoted and moved over to Andy’s team.’
Mmm, and she couldn’t use the ‘we can’t mix work and a relationship’ argument if she wanted to get him together with Abby—not when he was Abby’s boss! ‘I’m focusing on my career, Guy,’ she said gently yet firmly.
‘And because I didn’t get the job, you’re not interested?’
She narrowed her eyes. ‘If I didn’t think you’re drunk and don’t really know what you’re saying, I’d slap your face for that. I don’t sleep my way up the ladder, Guy. In fact, I don’t do relationships at all, and you know that—my career comes first, last and always. We’re friends, and I’d like to keep it that way.’
‘Maybe I’d like more.’
The voices grated in her head again. And I’m going to take it.
She forced the memory back where it belonged. ‘Not with me, you wouldn’t. Guy, you’re a nice bloke, but I’m not interested in anything more than friendship from you. From anyone.’ She sighed. ‘I’m beginning to think you’re as shortsighted as the board.’
‘Meaning?’
‘Meaning that there are other women in our department. Women who might like you and be interested in having a relationship with you.’
‘Like who?’
‘I’m not telling you when you’re drunk! Ask me when you’re sober, and I might give you a clue.’
