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The Reunion Of A Lifetime: The Reunion of a Lifetime / A Bride to Redeem Him
Fiona Lowe
Charlotte Hawkes
About the Authors (#ue6772c18-c3c3-5b67-bfba-2c6c7cf23ff2)
FIONA LOWE is a RITA® and RUBY award-winning author who started writing romance when she was on holiday and ran out of books. Now, writing single title contemporary romance for Carina Press and Medical Romances for Mills & Boon, she lives in a seaside town in southern Australia, where she juggles writing, reading, working and raising two gorgeous sons with the support of her own real-life hero! Readers can visit Fiona at her website: fionalowe.com (http://www.fionalowe.com).
Born and raised on the Wirral Peninsula in England, CHARLOTTE HAWKES is mum to two intrepid boys who love her to play building block games with them and who object loudly to the amount of time she spends on the computer. When she isn’t writing—or building with blocks—she is company director for a small Anglo/French construction company. Charlotte loves to hear from readers, and you can contact her at her website: charlotte-hawkes.com (http://www.charlotte-hawkes.com).
Also By Fiona Lowe
Her Brooding Italian SurgeonSingle Dad’s Triple TroubleCareer Girl in the CountrySydney Harbour Hospital: Tom’s RedemptionLetting Go with Dr RodriguezNewborn Baby For ChristmasGold Coast Angels: Bundle of TroubleUnlocking Her Surgeon’s HeartA Daddy for Baby Zoe?Forbidden to the Playboy Surgeon
Also By Charlotte Hawkes
The Army Doc’s Secret WifeThe Surgeon’s Baby Surprise
Hot Army Docs miniseries
Encounter with a Commanding OfficerTempted by Dr Off-Limits
Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
The Reunion of a Lifetime/A Bride to Redeem Him
The Reunion of a Lifetime
Fiona Lowe
A Bride to Redeem Him
Charlotte Hawkes
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
ISBN: 978-1-474-09573-0
THE REUNION OF A LIFETIME/A BRIDE TO REDEEM HIM
The Reunion of a Lifetime © 2018 Fiona Lowe A Bride to Redeem Him © 2018 Charlotte Hawkes
Published in Great Britain 2018
by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF
All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.
By payment of the required fees, you are granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right and licence to download and install this e-book on your personal computer, tablet computer, smart phone or other electronic reading device only (each a “Licensed Device”) and to access, display and read the text of this e-book on-screen on your Licensed Device. Except to the extent any of these acts shall be permitted pursuant to any mandatory provision of applicable law but no further, no part of this e-book or its text or images may be reproduced, transmitted, distributed, translated, converted or adapted for use on another file format, communicated to the public, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher.
® and ™ are trademarks owned and used by the trademark owner and/or its licensee. Trademarks marked with ® are registered with the United Kingdom Patent Office and/or the Office for Harmonisation in the Internal Market and in other countries.
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
Table of Contents
Cover (#u9dd2fc57-de2b-5f44-9616-335d14dc2789)
About the Authors (#u5465816c-291c-5bd0-afc9-ebced115416f)
Booklist (#u6a003321-008b-53a2-85da-f4b872c9613a)
Title Page (#u556dc97c-73b2-53c3-914d-050f6023fa03)
Copyright (#u11f7ca5d-29f4-55e6-aaa4-7943c38de704)
The Reunion of a Lifetime (#u974dbcb8-9442-5137-9641-d9a29e9b2480)
Back Cover Text (#ua234f572-4fc6-55cb-a5fc-6c4b84cf49b5)
Dedication (#u99c1cb17-2d62-5984-af65-db8c66f653db)
CHAPTER ONE (#u8cb0ceb4-a21e-57ad-959d-68b65886e973)
CHAPTER TWO (#ua57d42cd-6dd5-5502-9c94-3f2724a52188)
CHAPTER THREE (#ufce18cc1-28ed-55e6-83dc-61541845030b)
CHAPTER FOUR (#uc0fcc43d-9685-50bc-bd48-97e753166250)
CHAPTER FIVE (#ua6ef8d15-5f29-556a-9094-0780f47a4863)
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)
EPILOGUE (#litres_trial_promo)
A Bride to Redeem Him (#litres_trial_promo)
Back Cover Text (#litres_trial_promo)
Dedication (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER ONE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TWO (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER THREE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER FOUR (#litres_trial_promo)
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)
About the Publisher (#litres_trial_promo)
The Reunion of a Lifetime (#ue6772c18-c3c3-5b67-bfba-2c6c7cf23ff2)
Fiona Lowe
They once had a summer of passion...
But is it too late to walk down the aisle?
Lauren Fuller hasn’t seen Charlie Ainsworth since he unexpectedly left Horseshoe Bay twelve years ago and burst their bubble of love. Now he’s back, and working together at her GP practice is torment—their chemistry reminds Lauren how good they were together. And when she learns the tragic truth that drove him away, can it finally reunite them forever?
To Tamara for sharing her heartbreaking journey with Finn.
With special thanks to Madeleine and Cate for the mud story.
CHAPTER ONE (#ue6772c18-c3c3-5b67-bfba-2c6c7cf23ff2)
‘IT’S RED DAY.’
‘Red day?’ Dr Lauren Fuller’s hand paused in mid-twist on the yellow lid of a jar of Vegemite. She was minding Shaylee—her parents’ current foster-daughter—while Sue and Ian were up in Melbourne, celebrating their thirty-third wedding anniversary.
‘For reading,’ Shaylee explained. ‘We wrote a real letter with a stamp and everything. Today we’re walking to a big red letterbox. Mrs Kikos says it’s really old.’
Lauren knew the postbox. It dated back to 1890, when Horseshoe Bay had been a popular holiday destination and people sent postcards to tease the folks at home. Now everyone just texted. ‘That sounds like fun.’
She grabbed the toast as it popped up and swung back towards the table, dodging Cadbury, her parents’ aging chocolate Labrador, who had decided he needed to lie right at her feet. After dropping the toast on a plate, she pulled the scrambled eggs off the heat seconds before they boiled. Breakfast at her own house was a much less hectic affair, consisting of fruit and yoghurt, and, if the planets aligned, a quiet online read of the paper.
The eight-year-old girl’s gaze suddenly dropped past her new green and white checked school dress—her pride and joy—before resting on her bare feet. Shaylee mumbled something else about red.
Lauren scooped the eggs out of the pan and dumped them over the toast she’d spread with Vegemite. Her mother had been insistent that Shaylee eat a high-protein breakfast before school to help her with her concentration. Lauren knew that wasn’t the sole purpose; it was as much about warmth, love and a full stomach as it was about concentration. Shaylee had spent far too many years going hungry when her drug-affected mother’s suppressed appetite and muddled brain hadn’t considered food a necessity. ‘Sit up and eat your brekkie and tell me what you just said.’
Shaylee eyed Lauren carefully as she climbed up onto the breakfast stool. ‘Doesn’t matter.’
‘Of course it matters,’ Lauren said with a smile. She’d grown up with a parade of foster-children coming and going in the house and, as hard as that was at times to cope with, if she’d learned one thing, it was that the muttered asides usually contained the most important information.
Shaylee shovelled eggs into her mouth and Lauren waited. The moment the girl swallowed, Lauren said, ‘Hit me with it.’
‘We have to wear red,’ Shaylee said quietly, her head down. ‘But it’s okay. I love my uniform.’
Lauren’s heart rolled over. This little girl had endured so many disappointments in her short life that she automatically prepared for them now. It was odd that Lauren’s mother hadn’t made a costume for her before she’d left for Melbourne—Sue was huge on things like this. Surely the school had sent home a note about it? But that was something to sort out later. Right now, she had...she glanced at the clock and tried not to groan...half an hour to create a red costume before dropping Shaylee off at school and getting to the clinic on time. ‘You eat your eggs and I’ll go and see what I can find that’s red.’
Her first stop was the bathroom. At the back of the cupboard she found four cans of coloured hair spray, all of dubious age. She picked up the red one and shook it. It sounded hopeful, although she hoped it was fire-engine-red or it wouldn’t show up on Shaylee’s glossy black hair. Her second stop was the floor-to-ceiling cupboards in the playroom-cum-teenage retreat. Dragging an old hospital linen bag along the polished floorboards, she walked back into the kitchen just as Shaylee finished her last mouthful.
‘What’s that?’ the little girl asked, clearly intrigued.
‘Sue’s special bag of tricks.’ Lauren pulled open the drawstring and started pitching out items—a pink feather boa, a black ushanka fur hat with a red badge, a green fez, an old handbag, a royal-blue waistcoat... As she added more items to the pile, Lauren found herself silently chanting ‘Come on, red,’ like a roulette player.
Meanwhile, Shaylee was twirling around the kitchen, wearing the Russian hat and a stethoscope. ‘Look, I’m a doctor just like you.’
Lauren glanced at the bright red instrument in surprise. It must have been tangled up in some clothing, because she hadn’t seen it come out of the bag. If anyone had asked her about that piece of medical equipment, she would have said she’d binned it at the end of her first year of uni after replacing it with a utilitarian black stethoscope. Apparently not. It appeared she had abandoned it here and her mother, ever a magpie when it came to the bag of tricks, must have kept it for dress-ups. Lauren had deliberately not thought about the red stethoscope in years.
Twelve years.
Shut up! How do you even know that?
It was too long ago and far too much had happened in her life for her subconscious to instantly calculate the number. Especially as the day she’d bought the replacement black stethoscope had been the day she’d moved on from Charlie Ainsworth. At least that was what she always told herself on the infrequent occasions something made her think back to that heady summer a lifetime ago.
‘Stethoscopes are like wands,’ Charlie had said, slinging a red one around her neck and pulling her towards him before kissing her.
She’d gazed up at him, loving his kind and handsome face. ‘They’re magic?’
‘I wish,’ he’d said in a resigned tone, ‘but no. They do, however, reflect personality and you, Lauren Fuller, are the antithesis of boring old black. This one is bright and vivacious, just like you. This is the one.’
Lauren felt herself grimace at the now tarnished memory and immediately noticed Shaylee’s smile fade. Damn. She banished the mothballed memory back where it belonged and forced a smile as she kept rummaging in the bag. ‘The stethoscope looks great on you and, ta-dah!’ With relief, she shook out a red sequined cape. ‘You can be Super Shaylee.’
‘Yay!’ Shaylee clapped her hands as a look of wonder crossed her face. ‘I’m gonna be dressed in red like the other kids.’
Lauren blinked back tears. Why was it always the simple things that undid her? ‘You’ll be totally red, especially when I’ve sprayed your hair.’
