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  “I’m Pierce Masterson,” the stranger said, wiping his palm on his leg before offering her his hand.

  Haley looked at his hand and then him. Reluctantly, she took his hand and shook it.

  “Haley Sanders,” she said. She looked Masterson over from head to toe. What kind of handyman did yard work in dress slacks and designer loafers?

  “I’d like to clean up a bit,” he said. “I’ll be right back.”

  Haley watched him walk to his car. The sporty sedan seemed a little pricey for a handyman, but her mind went blank when he pulled off his shirt. The door on his car prevented a full-frontal view, but it didn’t stop her from seeing his muscular shoulder and powerful chest. Mowing lawns certainly agreed with him.

  It wasn’t just his body that made her long for a cold drink of water on this cloudless, warm day. His handsome profile completed the package. Suddenly, all she could think about was that her new handyman was one mouthwatering piece of eye candy….

  MICHELLE MONKOU

  became a world traveler at the age of three when she left her birthplace of London, England, and moved to Guyana, South America. She then moved to the United States as a young teen. An avid reader, her love of books mixed with her cultural experiences and set the tone for her vivid imagination. It wasn’t long before the stories in her head became novels on paper. Michelle enjoys writing heartfelt, satisfying romances. Visit her Web site, www.michellemonkou.com, or write to P.O. Box 2904, Laurel, MD 20709 or e-mail at [email protected].

  MICHELLE MONKOU

  Sweet Surrender

  To my big sis, Angela Gordon, we’re on this crazy ride together—Onward and Upward!

  Dear Reader,

  I’m excited to participate in Harlequin’s new Kimani Press imprint. After growing up on Harlequin romances in the seventies and eighties, I couldn’t be more thrilled to write one.

  With equal enthusiasm, I bring you the Masterson family. Each sibling has distinctive characteristics that might be called quirky, independent, strong or opinionated. Yet, underlying the family’s foundation is their bond and support for each other after suffering a shared, troubled childhood. I look forward to bringing you each story of erupting conflicts, satisfying resolutions and titillating romances.

  Join me on the journey. Share your thoughts on this family and more. Visit my Web site and register for contests and other information, www.michellemonkou.com, write to P.O. Box 2904, Laurel, MD 20709 or e-mail at [email protected].

  Here’s wishing that your dreams come true.

  Michelle Monkou

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 1

  Haley Sanders sealed the last moving box and pushed it against the wall. The word kitchen had been scrawled on its sides to make the eventual unpacking easier.

  She’d spent the last three days throwing away or packing possessions in her two-bedroom apartment that had been home for exactly one year. Muscles in her shoulders and lower back protested each movement. Tonight her body would demand payback when her muscles tightened and ached to the bone.

  There could be no stopping now.

  She glanced over the open kitchen and tiny living area, a far cry from the mini-mansion in buppie-dom, Mitchellville, Maryland. No custom-designed mini-blinds decorated the windows. The standard white paint had no colorful border accents to pick up the coordinated scheme in the carpet and furniture.

  But there had been no way that she could have remained living in the house that had seen the early giddy days of her married life, the birth of her only child and had witnessed her husband’s acts of intimate betrayal. After the legal separation, she’d endured six months under that hellish roof until she could afford to move.

  Her little apartment had become more than home. It was the place where everyone reassured her that she’d move on with her life. The healing was far from complete, though. It wouldn’t be until she could put distance between herself and her past.

  Trying to keep herself busy, she picked up a cloth and the multipurpose spray cleaner. The landlord would be up soon for the final walk-through. She sprayed at the random smudges on the wall, erasing traces of her existence in the kitchen, bathroom and bedroom.

  In the master bedroom, her new queen-size bed sat bare. The bed had been the first item she’d intended to replace. Thinking about lying on the mattress that she’d shared with her husband and his other woman still had the power to make her stomach heave.

  She fiddled with the thin gold band on her wedding finger. The intricate, diamond-studded wedding ring set had long been replaced with a simple gold band. Those who knew she was divorced accepted her explanation that the ring kept men from approaching her.

  However, the metal served as a talisman to ward off another relationship. As she slid the band around her finger, she stared at her hand. Once in a while she indulged in a manicure, but most times, like today, her fingernails were short and unpolished.

  Sliding the ring to her knuckle, she looked at the untanned skin. The pale line against her toffee-colored complexion had the same effect as a flashing neon sign overhead announcing her failure.

  She couldn’t make it as a wife and had failed as a lover.

  “Hey, Mom. You okay?”

  “Of course.” Haley quickly dropped her hand to her side. She blinked back the sting of tears.

  Her daughter stood in the doorway. Her lean body on the brink of maturity sported a crop top and jeans low on her hips.

  “Did you do a quick run-through of your room?” Haley pasted a bright smile to erase her daughter’s visible unease at seeing her upset. Throughout this ordeal, she’d made it a point not to show any signs that she couldn’t handle the divorce.

  “Are you sure we’re going to get help to load these boxes?”

  “Yes, Beth.” Haley smiled. “Your uncles are coming.” She glanced at her watch. “Anytime now.” She crossed the room and placed an arm around her daughter’s shoulders.

  “Yeah, right.” Beth shrugged off the offending arm and headed to the front door. “I’ll be outside.”

  “Don’t go far. As soon as everything is on the truck, we’re leaving.”

  Beth surveyed the room. “If you think so.”

  Haley watched the front door close. “Smartass.” Since she’d told Beth they were moving, Beth had kept her at arm’s distance. Obviously, nothing had changed. But she was determined that things would get better soon. The forbidden clothes would have to be dealt with later.

  Where were her brothers? She should’ve known better. But there was no one else to ask. She walked to the wall phone in the kitchen. Never mind that she’d already placed two calls. Her brothers didn’t budge unless she nagged them incessantly. Today proved to be no exception.

  Her eldest brother, Theo, had a nasty reputation for being unfashionably late. No one bothered him about it. His pit-bull physique and tree-trunk limbs tempered any person’s irritation.

  On the other hand, the middle sibling, Stan, was punctual, except when one of his many girlfriends distracted him. He called himself the Love Doctor and declared himself on call twenty-four hours, seven days a week for his lady friends.

  As the little sister, she didn’t carry too much clout. Haley prepared to make yet another call when the doorbell sounded.

  “Thank goodness,” she muttered. Maybe she wouldn’t be too off her schedule. A two-hour drive remained in front of her.

  She opened the door. “Wha
t took you so—?”

  “Hello, Haley.”

  “Vernon?” Haley’s grip tightened on the doorknob. She’d already stepped back in welcome, expecting her brothers to enter. Her ex-husband acted on the unintended invitation and strode with heavy steps into the living room.

  “Where’s Beth?” he asked over his shoulder. His focus zeroed in on the stacked boxes.

  “Why are you here?” Damn the shakiness in her voice. She didn’t move from the door, nor did she close it. Only his profile was in view. His tight, controlled movements reminded her of a tiger swishing his tail, sizing up the lay of the surroundings before launching in attack.

  “Did you think you could sneak out of town with my daughter?”

  Haley heard the steely edge lacing his words. She knew from experience that his fury wasn’t too far behind. Though he’d never lifted a hand against her, he’d blasted away her confidence with his tongue enough times to set her on automatic alert with the occasional retreat.

  “You look a mess.” He faced her with arms folded across his chest. His disgust poured onto her and clung like a thick, oily coating. “Why would you wear shorts? First, you’re too old to dress like a teenager. Second, you need to set an example for my daughter. Third, it sure looks like you haven’t kept up with the jogging program I designed for you. Take my advice, visit a gym.”

  Her teeth worked on the inner side of her lip. Red-hot anger swallowed her entire face, shooting its way to the roots of her hair. Anger and a double serving of embarrassment warred with her emotions, a constant state of her reality whenever Vernon was around.

  She’d love to have the courage to call him names, but he was always the picture of perfection with a toned physique outfitted in designer clothing. He always managed to look as if he had stepped out of the shower, fresh and clean, wearing perfectly creased pants and crisp shirts. Vernon had always been neat and a control freak.

  She leaned against the open door for support and as a possible route of escape. Her ability to think rationally had gone into sleep mode, with the defensive flight mode activated.

  “Vernon, we have nothing to discuss. I don’t have to tell you when and where I’m going. I have full custody of Beth and as agreed, you will see her a week in the summer and Thanksgiving.” To her ears she sounded breathless, as if she had sprinted around a track.

  “No court is going to decide when I can see my own daughter.” He took a step toward her. “Where is she?”

  “She’s not here.” She tried to match his arrogance, but couldn’t keep her eyes locked with his. Too much anger shone back at her. A long time ago, it used to be love, or something close to it.

  “Going out of state?”

  “Maybe,” she hedged.

  He raised her chin with his finger. “Look at me.”

  She didn’t.

  “I said, look at me.”

  She slowly moved her eyes up his face until she stared back at familiar cold eyes that were dark enough to be considered black. “You don’t have to tell me where you’re going because I can afford to find you anywhere, anytime. I took care of you. I made you a woman. Gave you my family’s name. You were nothing before you met me. No matter what melodrama is playing in your silly mind, I took good care of you and my daughter like a husband and father should.” He leaned closer. “It’s not over.”

  She pulled her chin out of his grasp. Her heart throbbed painfully against her chest. “Either you leave this apartment now or I will.”

  He stared down at her. Any outward emotion smothered. Only a sneer played on his lips.

  Her brothers’ noisy approach broke the standoff. She almost sank to her knees with relief.

  “You’re still my wife. No judge can end our marriage. Like I said, it’s not over. You’re nothing without me.” He walked out of the apartment and past her brothers who had stopped in the middle of their conversation at his unexpected appearance.

  “Hey, sis.” Theo motioned with his head. “What’s up with that?”

  “Nothing.” Haley didn’t feel like going into it. Although the vision of Theo beating Vernon to a pulp appealed to her, she’d end up paying dearly for such a treat.

  Now that Vernon had left, her nerves hummed like a live wire. A sickening feeling in the pit of her stomach would more than likely end in heartburn. She gritted her teeth to stem her body’s trembling.

  Right now, all she wanted was to get the heck out of town.

  Vernon’s threat continued to bounce around in her head. Her quest to start over in a new city, with a new job, in a new home could all be destroyed by her ex-husband’s whim.

  She could accept Vernon thinking of her as a frightened rabbit. His approval didn’t matter anymore. But Beth deserved stability and a happy home. Nothing else mattered. She’d vowed that Beth wouldn’t suffer for the decisions that she’d made to end her marriage and carve out a life for them.

  Pierce Masterson sat in the antique office chair that had once been his father’s. It wasn’t the most comfortable piece in the home office, but he’d seen his reflection in the mirror and it added authority to his appearance.

  His relatives were always ready to tell him that he was the younger version of his father without the premature gray hair at his temples that was the signature trademark of the Masterson males. Maybe they thought reminding him of his resemblance to his father stroked his ego. He, on the other hand, hoped the resemblance ended there—on the physical level.

  Since his teen years, he had assumed a fatherly role for his younger siblings. His mother had often been working or had been too busy to take care of them after his father had left. He rubbed his temples, priming himself for the fight ahead. He could predict to the minutest detail how this family meeting would go.

  Now his younger siblings sat in the room staring at him. Their anticipation pressed him to speak. He needed his two sisters to understand his decision. There was no other solution. Meanwhile, his younger brother and the baby of the family could barely keep his life together, much less be tapped for his opinion on the matter.

  “I don’t know what else you expect me to say. We’re getting nowhere with this bickering. What I’m proposing makes sense.” He refrained from adding as usual.

  “Makes sense to who?”

  “It’s whom, boy.” Pierce glared at the youngest Masterson. Omar had clearly been an oops by his parents when they’d had him twelve years after Pierce. “You’ve piddled at nothing since coming out with that so-called degree.”

  “Not everyone wants to be a muckety-muck doctor.” Omar stuck his fingers in his pants waist as if he wore suspenders and puffed up his chest. “I’m interested in teaching high-school physical education.”

  “It took four years and hard cash for you to learn how to tell kids to do jumping jacks?”

  “Ease up, Pierce.” Sheena, the older of his two sisters, raised her hand. “Omar, I do think it’s important that you think about going back to school. It’s important for your future. Getting a four-year degree doesn’t give you as much leverage as it used to.”

  “And how would you know, Sheena? You didn’t even make it through your four years before you got married to Carlton and had Carlton junior eight months later. Oh yeah, don’t tell me—prematurely.” He threw an exaggerated wink at her.

  Pierce bit his cheek to keep from smiling. He didn’t want to encourage Omar. His younger brother always fought dirty when pressed. “Don’t try to shift the attention from you,” Pierce admonished. “No one is telling you to become a doctor. But we can’t carry you while you dabble with a part-time job.”

  “Omar, didn’t you say that you wanted to be a lawyer?” asked Laura, his younger sister. Laura couldn’t stand their family discussions.

  “For heaven’s sake, Laura, a lawyer?” Pierce had never seen Omar pick up a book, much less imagined him making it through a reputable law school. Anything less would be a waste of time.

  “I wasn’t really planning on the legal route. But since Mr. High-
and-Mighty over here wants to look down his nose at me, I’ll show him that I can be a lawyer.”

  “This is so like you to do things for the wrong reason.” Pierce didn’t have the patience to indulge his brother’s adolescent fantasy to outdo him. “I’ve got mounds of paperwork to go through. So let’s get this family meeting wrapped up. Omar, you need to think about a serious profession. Get back to me in the next couple of days with a concrete plan for your future.” He took a deep breath and turned to his sisters. “Now, let’s discuss other important matters. Sheena and Laura, I’ve made the decision to sell the house. I’ll need you to look at—”

  “Hold up!” Sheena shot up from her seat. With one hand on her hip, she angrily gestured at him. “You made the decision?” She looked down at Laura. “Do you hear this crap?”

  Laura did her wobble-head routine, which meant that she didn’t want to commit to nodding or shaking her head. Her nickname was Swiss Miss for her die-hard neutrality.

  “I’m the executor, Sheena. I’ve always made the decisions for this family. You get emotional and stop thinking. Give it a day and you’ll see that I made the best decision.” Pierce’s gut told him that Sheena would be his biggest objector.

  “Not everything in life is clean and logical,” Sheena argued.

  “I think you’re being dramatic for the sake of being dramatic.”

  Omar chuckled, earning a pointed glare from his sister.

  “Just because you’ve made all the decisions for the family doesn’t mean that we can’t have our say. We aren’t kids anymore. That house is our mother’s house. It’s where she was born. How can you up and decide that we should get rid of it?”

  “One. None of us lives in the house. Two. It’s been vacant for over a year since Mom’s death. Three. The money can go toward Omar’s education.”

  “Shut up, Pierce. Now I’m mad enough to lay you out flat.” Sheena stomped back and forth in front of his desk. Her hands punctuated each word. “That’s where we grew up.”