The Doctors Series by Louise Bay – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read

The Doctors Series by Louise Bay – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read http://www.ilovenovels.com Sat, 27 Apr 2024 17:49:05 +0000 en-US hourly 1 https://wordpress.org/?v=7.0.2 http://www.ilovenovels.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/09/favicon.png The Doctors Series by Louise Bay – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read http://www.ilovenovels.com 32 32 Dr. Single Dad (The Doctors #5) Read Online Louise Bay http://www.ilovenovels.com/dr-single-dad-the-doctors-5-read-online-louise-bay Sat, 27 Apr 2024 17:49:05 +0000 http://www.booksnovels.com/dr-single-dad-the-doctors-5-read-online-louise-bay Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Forbidden Series: The Doctors Series by Louise Bay
Advertisement

Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 87538 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 438(@200wpm)___ 350(@250wpm)___ 292(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >90

Unexpected fatherhood, a newborn daughter and a nanny in the next bedroom he can't stop fantasizing about.

When a one-night stand announces I just became a father to a baby girl, my world is thrown into turmoil.

My choice: single fatherhood or sign adoption papers.

The decision is easy.

Within hours, I'm on a plane to collect my daughter.

I’m in over my head. I barely know one end of a baby from the other. Luckily, I have the perfect plan. I’ll hire live-in help, have limited involvement with the kid, and keep my life just the same as it’s always been.

I finally find a nanny who lives up to my exacting standards. But the only problem is, every time I look at her, the future I thought I wanted starts to crumble.

Nothing in my life is going according to plan… and the wriggling poo machine in my arms is unexpectedly worming her way into my heart.

Life was ordered and logical until I got myself two roommates and started falling in love with both of them.

A standalone romance.

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

ONE

Dax

I’m a lucky bastard, and more than happy to admit it.

There’s nothing I’d change about my life, not even this January cold that seems particularly bitter this morning.

I live in the most vibrant area in the best city in the world: London. Just beyond my doorstep lies everything I’ll ever need, from handmade suits to some of the most beautiful women on the planet.

Most of all, I love my work. Except I don’t just love it and it’s not just work. It’s more than a passion—it’s a calling. It’s what I was put on this planet to do.

Because of my work as a research doctor, life will be better for millions of people. The work I go into the lab to do is my legacy. Not many people can claim they’ll be remembered long after they’re gone, but given my team is on the edge of an early breakthrough in endocrinal research, there’s no doubt I will be.

The thought always gives me energy as I make my way to University College Hospital from my flat in Marylebone. It’s early, not even six and still dark, or as dark as it ever gets in central London. Most of the others on my team don’t start arriving until nine, but there are a few of us who like to get a head start on the day. Or the year, as it’s the second of January.

The automatic sliding doors at the hospital’s main entrance jump apart just as I feel my phone vibrate in my pocket. That’s gotta be one of my brothers. For a second I consider ignoring it—I’m in the zone and don’t want to deal with one of their so-called emergencies. They’ve all got wives or girlfriends now. They don’t need me. But I give a two-fingered salute to Mason, one of the security guards sitting at reception, and pull out my phone.

A US number I don’t recognize flashes on the screen.

The lift doors open, but I don’t step inside. Instead I accept the call.

“Dax, hi there, it’s Kelly,” a woman says.

Kelly…Kelly…Kelly?

I try and make the connection in my hippocampus. Who the fuck is Kelly? Luckily, she makes it easy for me.

“From Santorini.”

She doesn’t mean the island, but the restaurant at the end of my road. Things start to slot into place. When I’m late back from the lab, I sometimes stop at Santorini for a plate of the tomato keftedes, which are spectacular. Kelly was a waitress there. American with jet-black hair, olive-green eyes and one of those voices that sounded like she should sing jazz for a living.

More memories filter back. A few months ago, I stumbled across her leaving party when I’d met Vincent for a quick beer after work. She recognized me. We had a good night together. Shots. Sex. A great breakfast the morning after. From what I remember she was heading home to the US the week after.

It was probably more than a few months ago. More like…almost a year. I’ve not heard from her since. As far as I can remember, we never exchanged a message, let alone talked on the phone. Did we even swap numbers?

I guess we did.

“Hi, Kelly.”

“How are you, Dax? Long time no speak.”

She can’t be calling to catch up. What does she want? I just don’t understand why she’s calling. “I’ve just arrived at work. How can I help?”

“I need you to sign some papers. To finalize a few things.”

“I think you have the wrong number, Kelly. This is Dax Cove. I haven’t seen you in nearly a year.”

I’m about to hang up, convinced she’s mixed me up with someone else, when she says, “Actually, I last saw you nine months ago.”

That sounds about right, if oddly specific.

“It was a wonderful night,” she says. “And when I landed back home in the States, I found out I was pregnant.”

Heat twists through my chest and I fight for breath. “Right.” I push out the syllable like it’s a rock I’m heaving over a cliff.

Nine months.

“It’s nothing you need to worry about. I’ve dealt with it.” She lets out a laugh. “I’m not ready to be a mother.”

Dealt with it? What does that mean? I’m certainly not ready to be a father. Not now, not ever. That’s not what I’m here to do. Unlike my brothers, who all saw themselves as fathers at some point, I’ve never wanted to be someone’s dad.

“Like I said, I just need you to sign some paperwork. You’re down as the baby’s father on the birth certificate, so you need to sign the adoption agreement.”

More heat pushes down my body and across my limbs. For a second or two or three, I can’t speak. I can barely form a thought. “You had a baby?”

“I did,” she says, her voice a little pinched. “I haven’t asked you for anything. I did it all through my dad’s health insurance.”

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >90

Advertisement
Dr. Fake Fiance (The Doctors #4) Read Online Louise Bay http://www.ilovenovels.com/dr-fake-fiance-the-doctors-4-read-online-louise-bay Sun, 12 Nov 2023 07:04:57 +0000 http://www.booksnovels.com/dr-fake-fiance-the-doctors-4-read-online-louise-bay Genre: Alpha Male, Billionaire, Chick Lit, Contemporary Series: The Doctors Series by Louise Bay
Advertisement

Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 85135 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 426(@200wpm)___ 341(@250wpm)___ 284(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >87

She’s famous. He hasn’t a clue who she is.

I’m in London, in disguise, trying to hide from the tabloids, when I slam into a wall.

Except it’s not a wall. It’s a hot hunk of British man.

And I just poured scorching hot coffee all over him.

He goes from burn victim to my fiancé in three days flat. It’s all fake to divert tabloid attention away from my recent breakup with my longtime boyfriend-turned-traitor.

Except it doesn’t feel fake. The way he looks at me makes me shiver. When he touches me, I’m molten lava.

Neither of us is looking for anything serious.

Except…did I tell you how hot he looks playing naked Twister? He might just be husband material.

For real.

A standalone fake relationship romance in the Doctors Series.

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

ONE

Beau

Nothing beats the French Alps. Blue skies, white powder snow, sunshine—not to mention the views. It’s invigorating. It’s life-affirming. It’s life-changing. That’s why I decided last night to ask Coral, the woman I’m here with, whether she wants to move to London and into my apartment. I’m not far off thirty, all my brothers are settling down, and I really enjoy going on trips with Coral. She’s fun, up for adventure, gorgeous—we’re really compatible.

We stand in place for the chairlift and it scoops us up, heading toward the top of my favorite run in this area. The Sarenne is an infamous ten-mile black run, the longest in the world, and three thousand and thirty meters above sea level. To my mind, it’s the jaw-dropping views that make it special, especially the vista just before you start. That’s when I’m going to ask Coral to move in with me. I didn’t plan this before I came out here, but we’re having such a great time, I thought, why not? We both like the same things and it would give us some time to get to know each other more.

“You ready?” I ask from beside her as the end of the lift comes into view.

“I’m going to beat you this time,” she replies. She’s competitive and knows how to have fun. Every time we take a trip together, I like her a bit more. She’s opened up a little this trip about how she wants to move on from yachting and put down roots. It’s perfect timing.

I chuckle. “Okay then.”

We slide off the chairs and come to a stop by the sign directing people down the mountain.

“Take a picture, will you?” she asks. Coral’s Instagram is impressive. It helps that she works on superyachts, where there are plenty of photo opportunities.

I pull out my camera and she poses by the sign. I take a couple of shots and send them to her.

“Okay, let’s do this,” she says, snapping the visor on her helmet shut.

“Yeah,” I say. “Just one thing before we do.” I’m grinning. I can’t wait to see her face when I ask her.

She stops, slightly ahead of me, turns back and lifts her visor. “What?”

“So I’ve been thinking about stuff.”

She glances at the start of the run and then back at me.

I continue. “We always enjoy our trips together. We’re compatible. We enjoy each other’s company. I thought it might be nice if you moved to London.” I fumble at the Velcro fastening of my pocket and pull out my front door key. “How about we live together?”

She laughs and I grin back, but she just nods to the start of the run. “Are we going or what?”

I bristle at her just ignoring my question. “Yeah, when you’ve answered me.”

“But you’re not…serious?” she asks. “You can’t actually think I’m going to give up my job and move to London.”

“You said you were looking to move on from yachting. It’s not like I can easily practice medicine in the south of France.”

“Right,” she replies. “And I’m not asking you to. Because, this—” She gestures to me and then back to her with her ski pole. She laughs again, and this time I can’t help hearing a sharp edge to the sound. “You’re not the guy I settle down with. You’re the guy before the guy I settle down with. The warm-up guy.”

I can’t quite see because of her helmet, but the tone of her voice tells me she’s rolling her eyes, like I’m ridiculous for thinking she might want to get serious with me.

“What are you talking about?”

She sighs. “I’m not wasting time talking about this. I want to have fun. Are you coming or not?”

“That’s it?”

“That’s what?”

“I just asked you to move in with me and you basically were an arsehole about it.”

“She sighs. I’m not being an arsehole. I’m being realistic. We’re nothing. We never were anything. We’re never going to be anything. Buddies, yeah. Friends who go on trips together. But we were never more. And anyway, I was going to tell you—I got engaged last month.”

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >87

Advertisement
Dr. CEO (The Doctors #3) Read Online Louise Bay http://www.ilovenovels.com/dr-ceo-the-doctors-3-read-online-louise-bay Mon, 04 Sep 2023 20:23:08 +0000 http://www.booksnovels.com/dr-ceo-the-doctors-3-read-online-louise-bay Genre: Alpha Male, Billionaire, Contemporary Series: The Doctors Series by Louise Bay
Advertisement

Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 83343 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 417(@200wpm)___ 333(@250wpm)___ 278(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >86

She hates him. He can't get enough of her.

My life was simple until Vincent Cove, an (annoyingly hot) American billionaire, arrived. He wants to convert the stately home where I live and work into a glitzy hotel.

Over my dead body.

I’m just a small-town girl, up against Vincent’s goliath fortune, but I won’t go down without a fight. I'm taking on this billionaire bulldozer.

If I’d known his plans I definitely (maybe) wouldn’t have slept with him. And I’m determined to ignore the chemistry growing between us.

Except his charm is distracting, his persistence is irritating and his forearms, sharp jaw and devilish smile are downright infuriating.

At least I don’t have to worry about him sticking around. A self-confessed rolling stone, he can’t commit to a lunch order before noon, so there’s no way he’ll hang around long enough for me to fall in love with him.

A standalone, enemies to lovers, small town romance.

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

ONE

Kate

My toes still tingle with excitement, even after all these years of opening the tea shop on the Crompton Estate. I genuinely look forward to every new day—and really, how many people can say that about their job? I unlock the door and flip the sign on the window to “open”. Today we’ll serve tea, coffee, cakes, and flapjacks, not to mention Sandra’s soup of the day, to hundreds of smiling visitors. Buoyed by a tour of Crompton’s gorgeous gardens, they’ll pop in for a short break before continuing their tour of the gardens or driving home.

The magnolia outside the tea shop has just burst into flower, and I just know people will push open our door while remarking on the flowers that grow as big as my head and the sweet scent that tells me it’s the middle of May. It’s the same every year. It will put everyone in an especially good mood today. How could anyone not be in a good mood when visiting Crompton? It’s impossible.

The opening bars of “I Feel Pretty” from West Side Story filter in my direction. My smile widens and I twirl to face Sandra, who’s turned the speakers on and begun to sing. I join in while twirling back towards the counter.

“And I pity every girl who isn’t me today,” I sing.

I haven’t got a great voice—even if I’d wanted to, I could have never made it in the West End—but I can sing well enough for the Crompton amateur dramatics production of Frozen we put on last year. I was Elsa, and Sandra, even though she’s thirty years older than me, was Anna.

“How’s Granny?” Sandra asks. Everyone calls my granny “Granny”. She’s lived and worked on this estate for thirty years and is as much part of it as the cottage on the grounds where she lives.

“Good. Her cold has completely cleared up now.” I’m flicking through the comments on the Crompton Instagram page. I manage the official account, and receive a small uplift in my café salary to cover the additional work it takes. “You like this one?” I turn the phone and hold it out so Sandra can see the picture of the magnolia I took as I arrived.

“They’re all pretty,” she says.

“That’s the problem. There’s so much beauty all around us, we get spoiled. We don’t realize how lucky we are.”

“There’s no danger of us forgetting,” Sandra says. “We’ve got you reminding us all the time.”

I laugh. I am unabashedly enthusiastic about the place where we live and work. Not only do I not wonder if the grass is greener on the other side of the estate’s many hills—I know for a fact it isn’t.

“I’m posting it. I’ll put the others up on our stories.”

The bell above the door tinkles and I step around the counter and turn to face the first customer of the day.

What I expect to see is a retired couple wanting to warm up with a cup of tea before they start their self-guided tour of the gardens. Or perhaps a group of Japanese tourists who want me to explain the map.

The absolute last person I expect to find coming through the door is a man so tall he has to dip to make sure he doesn’t catch his head on the lintel—a man who’s rolled his white shirt sleeves up to reveal his forearms in a way that seems almost provocative. He comes to a stop directly in front of the counter, looking at me like I’m a slice of Sandra’s Bakewell tart and he’s going to devour me.

It’s safe to say the man in front of me is not Crompton’s typical customer.

I manage to hold my smile in place as I greet our new customer, despite the fact I’m almost positive I’m blushing just from looking at him. “Good morning. How can I help you?”

An amused expression crosses his face. I absolutely do not want to know what he’s thinking. Because from the way the corner of his mouth twitches and his eyes widen, I just know whatever it is, it’s filthy.

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >86

Advertisement
Dr. Perfect (The Doctors #2) Read Online Louise Bay http://www.ilovenovels.com/dr-perfect-the-doctors-2-read-online-louise-bay Mon, 01 May 2023 20:22:18 +0000 http://www.booksnovels.com/dr-perfect-the-doctors-2-read-online-louise-bay Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary Series: The Doctors Series by Louise Bay
Advertisement

Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 82868 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 414(@200wpm)___ 331(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >86

A boss, his assistant, a snowstorm and just one bed. What could go wrong?

They call him Dr. Perfect.

I call him Dr. Aloof, Dr. Arrogant, Dr. If-you're-going-to-fire-me-just-get-it-over-with.

If I had other options, I'd quit, but I need this job. Badly. So I jump at the chance to impress him by hand-delivering some important documents.

Yes, he's staying on a remote Scottish Island, but I've got it covered...

Until the ferry back is cancelled, there are no hotels on the island and there's a storm headed our way.

So I'm snowed in with my impossibly handsome boss, who barely knows my name, in a tiny one-bedroom cottage in the middle of nowhere.

But unlike the snow outside, his icy stare is beginning to melt and we don't need a generator to keep it warm inside.

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

One

Ellie

I pull my collar up, trying to keep the fog from curling down my neck, and step up to the large black door on Wimpole Street. It feels like I’m the first victim in a horror movie—the one that sets the scene for the real terror that’s about to be unleashed on the female lead the audience actually cares about. Shivering, I make a mental note to watch something starring Reese Witherspoon or Sandra Bullock when I get home. I’ve got to stop with the Netflix Harlan Coben adaptations. I pull out my phone, scrolling to the last email I had from my new boss, Dr. Zachary Cove. As instructed, I press the buzzer for Dr. Williams.

The buzzer clicks but no one says anything.

“Hello?” I call.

The catch releases and my heart begins to race. I try and channel “Sandra Bullock in The Proposal” vibes and shrug off the “Sandra Bullock in The Net” vibes. I take a deep breath and push the door open.

It’s just fog.

It’s no more menacing than rain. It doesn’t mean anything. Just my likely imminent murder—no biggie.

The hallway floor is beaten-up parquet, which probably looked beautiful at one point and could again if someone put in some effort. I step inside, letting the door close behind me, and don’t try to muffle the clip-clop of my heels echoing up the stairs to the first floor. My new job is to sit behind a desk in a doctor’s waiting room, answering the phone, arranging appointments, checking in new patients, typing dictation, and doing any other administrative tasks required to run a doctor’s private practice who will be in the practice two days a week. It’s the first position I’ve managed to get an interview for that wasn’t minimum wage. With my experience limited to managing Shane’s career, I’m grateful for any job at all. According to my meticulous calculations, this job pays me enough to reach my savings goals in just nineteen months—and that makes it a job I want to keep. Whatever they want me to do, I don’t care. A couple of weeks ago, I saw a flyer attached to a lamppost offering part-time work. It said in big bold letters that it was excellent pay, so I called. Turns out, I do have my limitations and drug trafficking is where I draw the line. But if it’s legal and pays well, I’ll do it.

As the email promised, the second door off the hallway at the top of the stairs has a see-through acrylic sign that reads “Dr. Cove” in plain black font, and “Gastroenterologist” in smaller block capital letters below. I sigh with relief and my shoulders drop as I confirm I’m in the right place.

I’ve never met my boss. I’ve spoken to him over the phone, but the agency said it was normal to just turn up for a temporary position without any kind of in-person interview. Though Dr. Cove mentioned the position has the potential to turn permanent, I only need it to last nineteen months; twenty-one max, accounting for unforeseen expenses. If I’ve done my sums right—and I have, because that’s all I’ve done since I got this job on Monday—nineteen months of this paycheck will mean I’ve saved enough money to get on with my life. Having made the terrible decision ten years ago to abandon university to manage my ex-boyfriend’s burgeoning Speedway career full-time, I have no real qualifications, and my work experience apparently doesn’t count for much. There’s a lot of intangible, difficult-to-explain stuff that goes into “managing” someone, which I only discovered while trying to put together my resume for the first time. And then of course I don’t have any references because my previous boss is also my ex-boyfriend, and I’d rather stand naked, astride a sandwich board, in the middle of Oxford Circus, than ask him for anything.

I push my past to the back of my mind and open the door to the office. In his last email, Dr. Cove said he would be in around ten and I should “settle in” beforehand.

The room is bright, which takes me by surprise. Maybe arriving in the fog meant I expected a windowless space, empty apart from a vintage operating table and a tray of knives. I seem to have emerged from my horror flick into an unremarkable waiting room. It’s at the front of a Georgian townhouse, with three large sash windows looking over the street. It’s not a big room. The floor has obviously been divided up between different doctors; a stud wall placed in the middle of this room means the eight chairs and desk make the space look a little cramped. I’ve never been to a private doctor before, but I expected it to be a bit…smarter and more glamorous. I shrug off my bag and put it on my desk, but I leave my coat on. It’s cold. I root around by the Victorian-style radiator under the window and find a knob. It starts to knock when I twist it. I take it as a sign it’s heating up. I do the same with the radiator behind my desk.

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >86

Advertisement
Dr. Off Limits (The Doctors #1) Read Online Louise Bay http://www.ilovenovels.com/dr-off-limits-the-doctors-1-read-online-louise-bay Mon, 12 Sep 2022 11:44:14 +0000 http://www.booksnovels.com/dr-off-limits-the-doctors-1-read-online-louise-bay Genre: Romance Series: The Doctors Series by Louise Bay
Advertisement

Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 80651 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 403(@200wpm)___ 323(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >85

Dr. Off Limits? I have a fever and I think you might be the medicine I need.
I’ve sworn off men to focus on my dream job that starts on Monday. But my best friend talks me into a final night of fun—a blind date.
I only agree because the guy is going to work as a doctor in Africa.
It’s the best date of my life. Dr. Africa makes me laugh and swoon and I want to give him a thorough physical examination.
He turns into Dr. One Night Stand, and I’m not sad about it.
Monday morning, I’m enthusiastic and excited, until I bump into . . . you guessed it.
Apparently Dr. Africa got his brother to fill in on our date, and now I work at the same hospital as the guy I got naked with on Saturday.
Did I mention he’s my new boss?
I need to go right to the Emergency Room and find a cure for my crush on Dr. Off Limits.

FULL BOOK START HERE:

One

Sutton

In just five days’ time, I’d be working at one of the most prestigious hospitals in London, answering to the name I’d worked hard to make mine: Doctor Scott. The thought was very likely to hospitalize me with a panic attack between now and then.

“How are the odds looking?” Parker asked me.

“Not good.” I winced at the tightness of the strap around my chin. I fiddled with the fastenings of my helmet and instantly the harness that I’d just been strapped into started to bite into my thighs. Normally being in the outdoors, in the midst of trees the height of skyscrapers, breathing in air as fresh as it got in London would be a welcome change from studying at my desk. Not today. As I took in the crisscross of wires between the trees and the so-called bridges between them that I was expected to walk along, I decided this kind of change, I could live without. “The likelihood of me having a panic attack just went to ninety-two percent.”

“But we got down to forty yesterday,” Parker said, her tone a teenager who’d been told her curfew was 9pm.

“Yesterday involved an open-top bus, an uber-enthusiastic tour guide with a passion for the fire of London, and mimosas. Today is different territory. In every sense.”

My best friend was well aware of my anxiety when it came to starting at the hospital. She’d witnessed the years I’d spent studying. The long days that ran into longer nights. The nonexistent social life, sacrificed to the study gods. The way I used to send up a tiny prayer that my clients would cancel their haircuts so I could cram in an extra forty-five minutes of study. Over the years, enough of my prayers were answered that I passed each stage of my journey on the way to being a doctor. My new job had been a long time coming, the culmination of every second of hard work I’d put in over the last seven years.

“I thought a ropes course would be the height of distracting,” Parker argued. “Pun intended.”

“Not from my imminent death, it’s not.”

“I suppose I didn’t think about that. You want me to go first?”

I shook my head. I always found it was better not to know how difficult things were about to get or you risked chickening out before even trying. If I’d known what I was going to face studying to become a doctor back when I was cutting hair and discussing people’s holidays six days a week, I would have never filled out that first application form. For many of the years since, it had been beyond hard, but if I’d known how hard it was about to get, there were a thousand times I would have given up. Naivety and blind ambition were a powerful combination.

One of the instructors clipped my harness onto the twisted metal rope and ushered me forward. “Keep moving. There are arrows showing you the direction you’re heading and instructors placed regularly along the route.”

“You all dressed in black in case we fall from fifty meters, die, and you don’t want to look like you’re ready to break out the party tunes?” I asked.

He squinted. “Wow, quite the optimist, aren’t you?”

“Just asking,” I replied.

“We dress in black so we don’t distract anyone with bright colors.”

“Sure,” I said noncommittally.

“And no one has died on this ropes course,” he added.

The elephant on my chest decided to stand and take a stroll. “No deaths” might seem like a low bar for a safety record, but I’d take what I could get.

“Not today anyway.” He gave me a little shove off the platform where we were standing, onto the first “bridge” to the next tree. The so-called bridge was a series of wooden slats spaced about fifty centimeters apart and connected by chains that tinkled in the wind. A more fanciful person might say it sounded like we were in the home of the fairies. I knew it was probably a fake soundtrack played to drown out the sound of screams.

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >85