Santiago's Convenient Fiancée

Can a convenient arrangement last forever?

Saoirse Murphy came to Miami to bury herself in work, determined to forget the canceled wedding she left behind her, and she wants to stay... But only a green card will do!

Enter former combat doc Santiago Valentino. Having reluctantly returned to face his dark past, he’s only too happy to be distracted by his paramedic partner and her shocking proposal.

But when their “convenient” engagement tips into a very inconvenient passion, Santiago wonders...will she be his forever wife?

Dear Reader,

I discovered a few wonderful things in the course of writing Santiago’s Convenient Fiancée. First—new friends don’t need to live around the corner to be close! Writing with these chicas bonitas was an absolute pleasure.

Another discovery: changing my desktop picture from my dogs to Miami Beach. I live in England and wrote this in the dead of winter, so that visual splash of sunshine, white sand and Art Deco never failed to get my synaptic gaps flashing. And would you believe it? I have never hankered for Latin American food more than during the writing of this book. Rural England is not the best place to come across plantains and puerco pibil, believe you me.

And finally—writing about a scrumptious Latino with a huge heart and a chip on his shoulder is deeee-lightful. Especially with Saoirse Murphy as his heroine. She’s the kind of gal I’d just love to be friends with. Loyal, feisty, passionate about her work, and fighting with every bone in her body not to fall in love with the most yummy, inky-haired, long-legged, perfect-looking man she has ever seen.

Please, please don’t be shy. I love hearing from readers—good or bad. I promise I’m working on a thick skin! I can be reached at [email protected] or @AnnieONeilBooks on Twitter. Oh! And I’m on Facebook, too.

See you soon—and enjoy!

Annie O’ xo

Santiago’s Convenient Fiancée

Annie O’Neil

www.millsandboon.co.uk

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.

Books by Annie O’Neil

Mills & Boon Medical Romance

Christmas Eve Magic

The Nightshift Before Christmas

The Monticello Baby Miracles

One Night, Twin Consequences

The Firefighter to Heal Her Heart

Doctor...to Duchess? One Night...with Her Boss London’s Most Eligible Doctor

Visit the Author Profile page at

millsandboon.co.uk for more titles.

This book goes unabashedly to the women behind the creation of each of the Valentino brothers—The Ugly Sisters. Tina, Amalie and Amy—you kept the fiery, feisty, sizzlin’ hot hearts of each story shining bright and strong. Thank you, ladies—you’re in a class of your own (a really good one, in case you didn’t know that already). Thanks, too, to the great team at M&B/Harlequin. May there be a Mad Ron margarita in each of your futures. Xx

Annie O’Neil won the 2016 RoNA Rose Award for her book Doctor...to Duchess?

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

Dear Reader

Title Page

Booklist

Dedication

Praise

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

SANTI CLENCHED HIS fists so tightly it hurt. Good. There was still feeling in them. He shot his fingers out at full length, simultaneously giving them a hard shake. The movement jettisoned him back to memories he’d thought he’d left back in Afghanistan. Syria. Africa. Wherever. Didn’t matter. Dog tags were dog tags. CPR worked or it didn’t. The need to shake it off and stay neutral was the same no matter where he was.

What mattered now was the chest in front of him needing another round of compressions. Fatigue couldn’t factor into it. Giving this guy another shot at living could.

“Where the hell is the ambulance?” he bellowed to anyone who might be in the vicinity. The only answer...the echo of his own voice reverberating off the cement stanchions of the underpass. Raw. Frustrated.

Santi wove his fingers together again and pressed the heel of his palm to the man’s chest, ignoring the worn clothes, the stench of someone who had slept rough too many nights and the fact he’d been providing CPR for twenty minutes since he’d rung for an ambulance.

“C’mon, Miami!” he growled, keeping steady track of the number of compressions before stopping to give the two rescue breaths that just might jump-start this poor guy’s system. “Give the man a chance.”

He glanced at the man’s dog tags again. Diego Gonzalez.

“What’s your story, amigo?” He tugged off his motorcycle jacket, leaving it where it fell on the dry earth before beginning compressions again. He might leave it for Diego once the ambulance turned up and they got a shot or two of epi and some life back into him. From the state of Diego’s clothes, the world had given up on him. Well, he sure as hell wouldn’t. He’d seen it time and again since he’d left the forces. Veterans unable to find a path after their time overseas. Nothing computing anymore. Lives disintegrating into nothing. He might have hung up his camos just a few months ago, but the last thing he was going to do was forget the men who’d given the military their all, only to find life had little to offer when they came home.