Welcome to Penhally Bay!
Nestled on the rugged Cornish coast is the picturesque town of Penhally. With sandy beaches, breathtaking landscapes and a warm, bustling communityâit is the lucky tourist who stumbles upon this little haven.
But now Mills & Boon® Medical⢠Romance is giving readers the unique opportunity to visit this fictional coastal town through our brand-new twelve-book continuity⦠You are welcomed to a town where the fishing boats bob up and down in the bay, surfers wait expectantly for the waves, friendly faces line the cobbled streets and romance flutters on the Cornish sea breezeâ¦
We introduce you to Penhally Bay Surgery, where you can meet the team led by caring and commanding Dr Nick Tremayne. Each book will bring you an emotional, tempting romanceâfrom Mediterranean heroes to a sheikh with a guarded heart. Thereâs royal scandal that leads to marriage for a babyâs sake, and handsome playboys are tamed by their blushing brides! Top-notch city surgeons win adoring smiles from the community, and little miracle babies will warm your hearts. But thatâs not allâ¦
With Penhally Bay you get double the reading pleasure⦠as each book also follows the life of damaged hero Dr Nick Tremayne. His story will pierce your heartâa tale of lost love and the torment of forbidden romance. Dr Nickâs unquestionable, unrelenting skill would leave any patient happy in the knowledge that sheâs in safe hands, and is a testament to the ability and dedication of all the staff at Penhally Bay Surgery. Come in and meet them for yourselfâ¦
CHAPTER ONE
âDADDY!â
âHello, pickle!â Mike scooped Sophie up into his arms and whirled her round, their laughter ringing round the yard and echoing off the old stone walls of the barn, bringing a lump to her throat.
These two adored each other, and now both their faces were lit up with a joy so infectious Fran couldnât help but smile.
âHowâs my favourite girl today?â he asked, hugging her tight and looking down into her beaming face.
âIâm fineâDaddy, whereâs Fran? Iâve got something really special to show herâFran! Look!â she yelled, catching sight of her and waving madly.
She wriggled out of his arms, running across and throwing herself at Fran. She caught her little stepdaughter, hugging her close and laughing, kissing her bright, rosy cheek and holding out her hand for the little box Sophie was thrusting at her eagerly.
âItâs a modelâI made it at school!â she confided in a stage whisper. âItâs Daddy milking a cowâsee, hereâs Amber, and this is Daddy, and this is the clusterâ¦â
She pointed underneath the misshapen reddish blob that could just conceivably have been a cow, and there was a thing like a mangled grey spider stuck on her underside. She supposed if the blob could be Amber, then the spider could be a milking machine cluster. Why not? And as for Mikeâ¦!
âIâm going to give it to him for his birthday,â she went on, still whispering loud enough to wake the dead. âWeâve got to wrap it. Have you got paper?â
Fran smiled and put the lid back on the box. âIâm sure weâve got paper,â she whispered back. âItâs lovely. Well done, darling. Iâm sure heâll be really pleased.â
A flicker of doubt passed over Sophieâs earnest little face. âDo you think so? Amber was really hard to make.â
âIâm sure, but youâve done it beautifully. Heâll be so pleased. He loves everything you make for him. It makes him feel really special.â
Sophie brightened, her confidence restored, and whirling round she ran back to her beloved father and grabbed his hand. âI want to go and see the cowsâOh, Brodie!â she said, breaking away again and dropping to her knees to cuddle the delighted collie who was lying on her back, grinning hideously and wagging her tail fit to break it. âHello, Brodie,â she crooned, bending right down and letting the dog wash her face with meticulous attention.
âSophie, you mustnât let her do that!â Kirsten protested, but Sophie ignored her mother, laughing and hugging the dog while Brodie licked and licked and licked for England.
âYeah, not your face, itâs not a good idea,â Mike chipped in, backing Kirsten up simply because he just did. It was one of the many things Fran loved about him, the way he defended Sophieâs motherâs decisions to their daughter even if he didnât agree, and then discussed it with her rationally when Sophie wasnât around.
The fact that Brodie washed his face whenever it was in reach was neither here nor there! Now he held out his hand to Sophie and pulled her to her feetâand out of range of Brodieâs tongueâwith a grin.
âCome on, scamp, say goodbye to your mum and then letâs go and see the cows. Iâm sure theyâve missed you.â
Missed the treats, no doubt, because the six-year-old always seemed to have her little pockets bulging with pellets of feed, and sheâd happily give it to them despite the cowsâ slippery noses and rough, rasping tongues. Nothing fazed her, and she was deliriously happy trailing round after her father and âhelpingâ him.