Saturday's Child

Saturday's Child
Авторы книги: id книги: 1864756     Оценка: 0.0     Голосов: 0     Отзывы, комментарии: 0 460,15 руб.     (5,01$) Читать книгу Купить и скачать книгу Купить бумажную книгу Электронная книга Жанр: Короткие любовные романы Правообладатель и/или издательство: HarperCollins Дата добавления в каталог КнигаЛит: ISBN: 9781408982167 Скачать фрагмент в формате   fb2   fb2.zip Возрастное ограничение: 0+ Оглавление Отрывок из книги

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Mills & Boon presents the complete Betty Neels collection. Timeless tales of heart-warming romance by one of the world’s best-loved romance authors.SHE WAS A TRUE “SATURDAY’S CHILD”Abigail worked hard for a living. And she expected to go on earning her own living for no man had shown signs of wanting to marry her—least of all the mysterious Professor Dominic van Wijkelen. Certainly he admired her nursing skills. He confi dently asked her to take on his private cases, which took Abigail from London to Holland then Spain.But all he seemed to feel for her was intense dislike! Did Dominic not trust women? Was she too plain? Whatever the reason, there was little Abigail could do about it.

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Betty Neels. Saturday's Child

Saturday’s Child. Betty Neels

MILLS & BOON

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

MILLS & BOON

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www.millsandboon.co.uk

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.....

He walked to the door and then turned to face her with Doctor Vincent beside him. ‘I feel sure that Doctor Vincent will arrange everything to your liking, Mrs Morgan, and you will have your nurse to shield you from the—er—sights and sounds you so much dread.’ His smile was fleeting and reluctant, a concession to good manners, and it didn’t last long enough to include Abigail. He nodded curtly to her as he went away.

Surprisingly, he came the following day, late in the afternoon when Abigail had returned from her few hours off and was sitting with her patient, reading the New York Herald Tribune to her. She read very nicely in her quiet voice, sitting upright in a truly hideous reproduction Morris chair. She had enjoyed her afternoon off, and wished that her patient lived in one of the old houses beside the canals, because she would have dearly loved to see inside one of them. The flat in the Apollolaan was comfortable to the point of luxury, but all the same, she wouldn’t have liked to live in it for ever, but the brick houses with their gabled roofs reflected in the still waters of the grachten—they were a different matter; it would be wonderful to live in their serene fastness.

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