Dr Zinetti's Snowkissed Bride

www.millsandboon.co.uk

Cover Page

Title Page

Excerpt

About the Author

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Copyright

‘Well, I don’t paint my nails or bake cookies, but I have some skills.’ But maybe her skills weren’t enough in this case. Suddenly she wanted to lean against that broad chest and just sob. She didn’t care that she’d been resisting his advances for months. She just wanted to feel those strong arms close around her. ‘Dino—’

‘It’s a good job I am here, no? A weak, feeble girl like you is going to need a big strong guy like me to help you out of this mess.’

Her traitorous desire to lean on him vanished instantly. ‘I don’t need any help from you.’

‘Sì, of course you need my help.’ His mouth curved into a slow, sexy smile. ‘It’s just you, me, and this little private room. This isn’t quite how I pictured our first night together, but I can be flexible. Do you have any mistletoe?’

‘If I had any mistletoe all I’d do with it is force-feed you the berries—’

Without warning he leaned towards her, and for one breathless, heart-stopping moment she thought he was going to kiss her. His eyes glittered dark with sexual promise and Meg felt something she’d never let herself feel. Then she came to her senses and gave him a hard shove.

‘You said you weren’t in the mood,’ he purred. ‘I was going to put you in the mood.’

SARAH MORGAN is a British writer who regularly tops the bestseller lists with her lively stories for both Mills & Boon^>® Medical™ Romance and Modern™ Romance.

As a child Sarah dreamed of being a writer, and although she took a few interesting detours on the way she is now living that dream. With her writing career she has successfully combined business with pleasure, and she firmly believes that reading romance is one of the most satisfying and fat-free escapist pleasures available. Her stories are unashamedly optimistic, and she is always pleased when she receives letters from readers saying that her books have helped them through hard times.

RT Book Reviews has described her writing as ‘actionpacked and sexy’, and she has been nominated twice for a Reviewer’s Choice Award and shortlisted twice for the Romance Prize by the Romantic Novelists’ Association.

Sarah lives near London with her husband and two children, who innocently provide an endless supply of authentic dialogue. When she isn’t writing or nagging about homework Sarah enjoys music, movies, and any activity that takes her outdoors.

‘I CAN’T believe you f-found me. I’m s-so cold, Meg. Are we going to d-die?’

The boy’s words were barely audible above the angry shriek of the wind and although she’d been standing still for less than two minutes, Meg could feel the icy fingers of cold reaching inside the padded layers of her high-performance jacket.

Normally she would have relished the opportunity to pit her wits against the vicious weather, but she hadn’t planned on doing it with a badly injured teenager.

‘We’re not going to die, Harry. I can’t possibly die yet because I haven’t done any of my Christmas shopping…’ She raised her voice so that he could hear her, knowing he needed reassurance almost as much as he needed emergency medical care. ‘And there’s a lump of mouldy cheese in my fridge I keep meaning to throw away. If my mum finds that, she’ll kill me, so we need to get back home as soon as we can.’ Ignoring the voice in her head reminding her that the wind chill decreased the temperature to minus fifteen and that the teenager had nasty injuries, Meg tore open the top of her backpack and dragged out the equipment she needed. ‘I’ve called the rest of the mountain rescue team. They’re on their way. In the meantime, I’m going to get you out of this wind and keep you warm.’ As if challenging that promise, the wind gave a furious howl and buffeted her body. She reached out and steadied herself with her gloved hand, putting her body between the wind and the boy.

Behind them were snow-covered layers of jagged rock and beneath them the side of the mountain fell away into a deep ravine where icy water formed a death trap, waiting to finish off what the rocks and the wind had started.

Meg pulled the collar of her jacket over her mouth and tried to catch her breath, ignoring the nagging worry that it was going to be impossible to evacuate him from this treacherous site with the wind so high.

Her priority had to be shelter. The rest could wait. If she didn’t get him out of this biting wind in the next few minutes, there wouldn’t be anyone alive to rescue.

She gave a whistle and Rambo, her German shepherd search-and-rescue dog, nosed his way over to the boy and sat in front of him, offering still more protection from the wind while Meg found what she needed.

‘Right, Harry, prepare for luxury.’ She shouted to make herself heard. ‘What we need now is a nice, warm living room with a roaring log fire and a pretty Christmas tree, but this is the best I can do at short notice.’ She flipped the portable tent she’d removed from her backpack and for a terrifying moment the wind caught it and almost pulled her off her feet. ‘Oh, for…I need to eat more chocolate. I’m not heavy enough.’ As she felt her feet lift off the snow, Meg yanked the fabric hard and managed to anchor it. Within seconds she and the injured boy were inside. ‘Unfortunately no log fire and no Christmas tree,’ she panted, brushing the snow away from her face, ‘but this is better than nothing. All right, now I can look at you. What have you been doing to yourself, Harry? You look like an extra from a cheap horror movie.’