And Daughter Makes Three

And Daughter Makes Three
Caroline Anderson

Falling for a single Dad . . .Now that she’s talked herself into the junior registrar post, Dr. Frankie Bradley is determined to prove she’s got what it takes! Only, she hadn’t counted on working with the irresistible consultant, Robert Ryder! It’s not long before Frankie realises she’s falling for this handsome single-dad, and his young daughter, too… But if there’s any chance of this duo becoming three, Frankie must first convince little Jane of her love. Without his daughter’s approval, she knows she’ll lose Robert forever!Audley Memorial Hospital - where romance is the best medicine of all.

And Daughter

Makes Three

Caroline Anderson

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

Table of Contents

Cover (#u621cc16d-5098-5af7-a636-0aecb4b4053a)

Title Page (#u08d44540-3b69-5a35-bf86-0f8d54491c87)

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER ONE (#u0739085e-b34e-5f10-9115-2245af2b9ea6)

‘YOU aren’t taking this interview seriously, are you?’

Robert blinked in astonishment. ‘I beg your pardon?’

The girl sighed and rammed the long fingers of her right hand through once tidy mousy hair. Well, not really mousy. There were actually some rather beautiful gold lights lurking in it, he noted absently, just waiting for a stray sunbeam to bring them to life—

‘I’m just your statutory woman interviewee, aren’t I? Why can’t you admit it? I’m only here because you have to appear unbiased, but I can tell by your questions that you think I should be curled up somewhere behind a desk chatting to pregnant mothers and peering down children’s throats!’

Robert shifted uncomfortably and cleared his throat, embarrassed at being so easily read by the young woman in front of him.

‘Not at all,’ he demurred, but her fine dark brows shot up sceptically and he ‘sighed. ‘All right, perhaps a little. I’ve got nothing against women doctors; I think they’re a necessary—’

‘Evil?’ she supplied helpfully.

He sighed. ‘I was going to say balance. The problem isn’t so much your gender as your physique. Orthopaedic surgery is physically demanding—’

‘So is general practice. The point is, I don’t want to do general practice, I want to do orthopaedics, and I want you to give me the chance.’

Stubborn little cuss. Robert eyed her with fresh interest. ‘So what makes you think you’d be any good?’

‘I can spot fractures on X-ray plates that other people miss—’

‘So you can diagnose. But can you treat those fractures? Have you got the strength to reduce them, to realign the bones and reduce dislocations?’ He studied the slender hands lying on the edge of the desk, palms down, the long, fine fingers outspread as if she was ready to spring up and dash off. ‘Look at your hands. I doubt if you could even wring a chicken’s neck.’

She smiled wryly. ‘I doubt if I could, but that’s probably because I’m vegetarian and nothing to do with brute force and ignorance.’

‘I never mentioned ignorance.’

‘You didn’t mention skill, either. Or patience and persistence. You need those too, and on that score I’m definitely your man—so to speak.’

Robert was beginning to think that her patience and persistence would be the death of him. ‘What evidence have you got to support that extravagant claim?’ he asked drily.

‘I can do jigsaws,’ she told him.

His jaw sagged slightly. Jigsaws? She could do jigsaws? He could play badminton, but it was hardly relevant—

‘You know, the double-sided baked bean variety that nobody has the patience for? I don’t give up. I persist until whatever I’m doing is done to my satisfaction. I’m a perfectionist, but I know how to compromise. I’m strong, I’m fit and I’m prepared to go to any lengths to do the job well. I won’t let you down.’

‘Won’t’, please note, not wouldn’t, he thought wearily. As if he’d offered her the job.

‘It’s physically punishing,’ he warned. ‘Long hours in Theatre, bending over shattered limbs, piecing them together—’

‘Like jigsaws. Exactly.’

‘Can you bang a nail in straight? Saw straight? Drill and screw with total accuracy?’

‘Yes,’ she said. Just like that, without any hesitation.

‘Yes?’ he pushed.

‘Yes. I’ve been practising. My brother’s got a Victorian house. I’ve been helping him do it up. I’m a dab hand with an electric drill, and I can hammer and chisel and paint in straight lines—’

‘How useful,’ he said drily.

‘Well, if I can paint in straight lines I can cut in straight lines, which might be relevant, I suppose?’ she replied, just as drily.

He sighed. ‘Look, Ms—’