Heart Surgeon, Prince...Husband!
A convenient proposal…An inconvenient attraction!Prince Luciano Bianchi is a top heart surgeon—but as a future king he’s expected to rule, not operate! To convince his family that saving lives is where his heart lies, he proposes a temporary convenient marriage to his new colleague, workaholic cardiologist Kelly Phillips. Of course there’s no risk of either of them falling in love—until their whirlwind ‘romance’ starts to feel tantalisingly real!
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A convenient proposal...
An inconvenient attraction!
Prince Luciano Bianchi is a top heart surgeon—but as a future king, he’s expected to rule, not operate! To convince his family saving lives is where his heart lies, he proposes a temporary convenient marriage to his new colleague, workaholic cardiologist Kelly Phillips. Of course, there’s no risk of either of them falling in love—until their whirlwind “romance” starts to feel tantalizingly real!
KATE HARDY has always loved books, and could read before she went to school. She discovered Mills & Boon books when she was twelve, and decided that this was what she wanted to do. When she isn’t writing Kate enjoys reading, cinema, ballroom dancing and the gym. You can contact her via her website: katehardy.com.
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ISBN: 978-1-474-08977-7
HEART SURGEON, PRINCE...HUSBAND!
© 2019 Pamela Brooks
Published in Great Britain 2019
by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF
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To Sheila Crighton, a wonderful friend,
with love and thanks for the lightbulb.
Contents
‘LUCIANO BIANCHI, the new heart surgeon, is starting today,’ Sanjay, the head of the cardiac unit, told Kelly. ‘Can I ask you to look after him for me this morning—take him round the department, show him where the canteen is and introduce him to everyone? I’d do it myself, but I’ve got meetings with suits.’ He rolled his eyes. ‘All day.’
‘Oh, the joy of budgets,’ Kelly said, sympathising with her boss. ‘Of course I’ll show him around.’
‘Wonderful. Thank you.’ Sanjay patted her arm.
Rumours had already flown around the hospital. Luciano Bianchi wasn’t just a cardiothoracic surgeon; he was a prince. His father was the King of Bordimiglia, a small Mediterranean country on the border between Italy and France. Apparently he’d trained in London and worked for some years at the Royal Hampstead Free Hospital; now one of the surgeons here was retiring, Luc was moving to Muswell Hill Memorial Hospital.
Everyone had looked him up on the Internet, of course; it was hard to reconcile the idea of an upper-class playboy who didn’t take life too seriously with a man who’d spent years training to be a heart surgeon. So who was Luciano Bianchi—and would he be part of the team or would he be a royal pain in the backside?
From the photographs, he was definitely nice-looking enough to make all the women in the department sigh and speculate why he hadn’t been snapped up years ago. Tall, with dark hair and dark eyes, Luciano looked more like a model for a high-end fragrance ad than a surgeon. But he didn’t seem to date that much—or, at least, there weren’t loads of paparazzi pictures of him with a princess or the daughter of some wealthy industrialist on his arm, on their way to some high society party or movie premiere. It looked as if he put his job before his position in society, which boded well for life at the hospital.
