Amy Ruttan

Unwrapped By The Duke


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       CHAPTER THREE

       CHAPTER FOUR

       CHAPTER FIVE

       CHAPTER SIX

       CHAPTER SEVEN

       CHAPTER EIGHT

       CHAPTER NINE

       CHAPTER TEN

       CHAPTER ELEVEN

       CHAPTER TWELVE

       CHAPTER THIRTEEN

       CHAPTER FOURTEEN

       EPILOGUE

       Extract

       Copyright

       CHAPTER ONE

      “AND THIS IS WHERE you can change into your lab coat while you make rounds on our patients.”

      Geri nodded her head as she followed her father into the lounge all the surgeons and physicians at the hospital used. There were overstuffed sofas and a sparkling kitchen area. It was a comfortable enough room, more than comfortable, a lot different from the rooms in the inner-city Glasgow hospital where she’d done her residency. Those rooms usually had a couple of vending machines and a ratty old settee. Not that she’d spent much time in the doctors’ lounge. She’d spent most of her time on the surgical floor.

      Until a month ago when she’d given up her chance to be a surgeon.

      She’d had every intention of finishing her surgical residency, but circumstances had changed after her last year on rotation and her father’s offer to become a cardiologist had suited her just fine.

      She’d been surprised at the opulence she found herself suddenly thrust into.

      Of course, her father was a prestigious cardiologist, with a practice in Harley Street. Being a member of the peerage, he was used to working in more comfortable surroundings.

      She was finding it all a bit overwhelming.

      It had only been last year that her estranged father had reached out to her and she’d gone from that young girl who’d grown up in a poorer district of Glasgow, studying hard to get scholarships and working two jobs to pay her way through medical school, to heiress.

      Geri had spent her whole life doing everything in her power to make a better life for herself, to distance herself from her cold, detached mother who was now living in some commune in Israel. A mother who had no interest in a connection with her daughter anymore.

      Which also suited Geri just fine.

      So it had been a complete shock to her system to finally meet her father and find out that he was an aristocrat—a lord—and that she was a lady and the heiress to a family seat that stretched back to the time of King George III. And it wasn’t just that. Her father was retiring and he was leaving his practice to her.

      When he’d offered her the practice last year she’d turned him down. She’d been involved with Frederick and on her way to becoming a cardiothoracic surgeon.

      Besides, she hadn’t really wanted to get to know the man who hadn’t given two figs about her existence until it had suited him.

      Then Frederick had broken her heart and because of her relationship with him she’d became the laughing stock of the surgical program in Glasgow. She’d decided to take the easy way out and take her father up on his offer.

      A secret shame she’d have to bear. Which was only fitting punishment for thinking herself in love with a surgeon she’d been learning from. For letting her emotions rule her heart.

      Her mother had told her time and time again to hide away her feelings. Feelings served no purpose. They were a form of weakness.

      So she’d left Glasgow for London to take over her father’s share of the practice.

      Surgery was the price she had to pay for her indiscretion.

      It wasn’t a solo practice, as her father shared his practice with a cardiothoracic surgeon, but that didn’t matter. It’s what made her father’s practice one of the top ones in Harley Street. In the same office you could meet with your cardiologist and one of the best cardiothoracic surgeons was just down the hall. Geri had yet to meet the infamous Mr. Ashwood, but she had read some of his research papers when she’d been doing her surgical residency. He was certainly an impressive and accomplished surgeon.

      “Geraldine, you looked a little flustered. Are you sure you’re well, my dear? We can save this walk-through for another time. You’ve only just arrived from Glasgow. Perhaps you should go back to my house and unpack. Rest.”

      “No, I assure you I’m fine.” Geri smiled. “Please do continue.”

      She couldn’t bring herself to call him “Father” just yet. He was still Lord Collins to her. She was staying at his home for now. Just until after Christmas when she could find her own place. It was awkward, to say the least. He walked around her like she was delicate china and was going to shatter.

      They’d been together for a month and she felt like she didn’t even know him. And she wasn’t all that sure she wanted to.

      Her father nodded, though he looked uncomfortable. Sometimes it was hard, being alone with him. It was awkward. They were too polite, but then there were other times when they enjoyed each other’s company. Still, those times were few and far between.

      He looked down at his pager. “Ah, a spot of trouble. One of my patients has just been admitted. Would you like to come meet her or would you rather stay here?”

      “I’ll stay here, I think. Just get my bearings. I’m sure I’ll meet her soon enough.”

      Her father nodded. “I won’t be a moment.”

      Geri breathed a sigh of relief when her father left her alone.

      She was still trying to process it all. She couldn’t quite believe she was here. It had always been a secret dream of hers to meet her father one day. Until each year had passed and those secret dreams of her father coming to rescue her from a lonely childhood had faded into nothing. At the age of eighteen she’d had his last name, known his first name was Charles, but had had no idea that he was a member of the aristocracy. And she couldn’t be bothered to find out anything about him.

      She’d had no idea he was a physician in Harley Street with a home at the posh end of Holland Park.

      It was all a bit overwhelming. She sat on the edge of a couch and took a deep breath.

      What am I doing here? I don’t belong here.

      “Excuse me, but are you lost?” It wasn’t totally a question. It was