Healing The Sheikh's Heart

A doctor for the desert king

Brooding billionaire Sheikh Idris Al Khalil wants one thing—the gift of hearing for his daughter, Amira—and he’s willing to pay anything to get it! Enter Dr. Robyn Kelly, whose whirlwind approach to life sends his senses into overdrive.

Now, as the tension between Paddington’s ENT specialist and the guarded sheikh mounts, Robyn can’t help but wonder...is life in the desert with Idris and little Amira the family happy-ever-after she’s always dreamed of?

Dear Reader,

This is the first time I have written for a proper continuity, straight from the heart of Mills & Boon’s Medical Romance editorial team at True Love Towers, and let me tell you—I’d do it again in a heartbeat!

I absolutely adored writing this book and working with the other wonderful authors. What a fabulous experience, much like working in a hospital with a smart, engaging, funny, busy-falling-in-love team of doctors. I know it’s an oft-trotted-out line that a writer’s profession is a lonely one, but this job certainly wasn’t. It was definitely a group experience, and so much the better for it—in my humble opinion!

I became so engaged in the world of Paddington Children’s Hospital I even ran a half-marathon for Great Ormond Street Hospital, London’s premier (real-life) hospital for children. And I’m no athlete. It took a while, but it was worth it. I hope you find yourself enjoying ‘working’ your way through this series as much as I enjoyed writing Healing the Sheikh’s Heart.

Remember not to be shy. I love hearing from readers.

You can find me on Facebook, Twitter (@annieoneilbooks) and on my website: annieoneilbooks.com.

Happy reading!

Annie O’

ANNIE O’NEIL spent most of her childhood with her leg draped over the family rocking chair and a book in her hand. Novels, baking, and writing too much teenage angst poetry ate up most of her youth. Now Annie splits her time between corralling her husband into helping her with their cows, baking, reading, barrel racing (not really!) and spending some very happy hours at her computer, writing.

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Visit the Author Profile page

at millsandboon.co.uk for more titles.

Healing the Sheikh’s Heart

Annie O’Neil

www.millsandboon.co.uk

This one is for all the gals who worked on the series. I was a first-timer and you made it a wonderful experience. A special shout-out to the fabulous Fiona Lowe, who always helps me keep my head screwed on, and Karin Baine, my partner in googly-eyes.

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

Dear Reader

About the Author

Title Page

Dedication

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

Extract

Copyright

CHAPTER ONE

“NEXT!”

Sure, it was clichéd, but so was the interview Idris had been forced to bring to an abrupt halt. How superficial did these people think he was?

His name on a hospital wing for having his daughter’s surgery at the Chelsea Children’s Clinic? Ridiculous. The money wasted on ribbon-cutting ceremonies and plaques should be spent on the children. In hospital. Wasn’t that the point of a large donation? Not lavish displays of wealth and largesse. He had one concern and one concern only—bringing the gift of sound into his little girl’s silent world. He turned at the gentle ahem prompt from Kaisha, all too aware this was exactly the sort of thing Amira couldn’t experience.

“Are you ready for the next one?”

“Are there many more? I don’t know how much more of this misplaced adulation I can take.”

His assistant appeared by his side, scanning the printouts on her leather-clad clipboard. The one with the royal crest that always ramped up the anxious-to-please smiles of his interviewees. Surgeons at the top of their games! He sucked in an embarrassed breath on their behalf, using the three-two-one exhale to try to calm himself.

“No, Your Excellency. We’ve only got three more.”

“Kaisha, please.” He only just stopped himself from snapping. “It’s Idris when we’re alone. There’s only so much sycophancy a man can take in a day. You, of all people, know how important it is we find the right doctor for Amira.”

“Yes, Your... Idris.” Kaisha winced, did a variation of a curtsy, then threw her arms up in the air with the futility of getting it right and left the room. They both knew there was no need for a curtsy. They both knew Idris’s glowering mood was virtually impossible to lift. He’d worn his “thunder face,” as Amira liked to call it, near enough every day for the past seven years.

Despite his headache, an overdose of London’s medical glitterati and a growing need to get out and stride off his frustration in one of London’s sprawling royal parks, Idris smiled. Kaisha was loyal, intelligent and the last person he should be venting his frustration on. He’d hired her because she specialized in Da’har’s rich history. Not for her skills as a PA. Perhaps he should hire her a PA to take up the slack.