Motherhood Without Parole - Tanya Michaels


The kids will be home next Monday, Paul said.

Kate nodded. Eight days. She could do this. Now was not the time to dwell on the fact that the only living things that had ever been in her care were some exotic fish that had added color to her condo. Until shed accidentally knocked the heater into the aquarium and electrocuted them all in mere minutes.

I dont want them to visit me, Kate. I just cant imagine them in these surroundings. He ran his hands over his face. Havent they been through enough in their young lives without seeing their old man

Startled by the raw vulnerability in his tone, she rushed to reassure her husband. I understand. Maybe writing you letters would be less traumatic than visiting you here.

Looking at the haunted eyes of the man she loved, Kate vowed to be the best stepmother possible. Realistically it was the only thing she could do to help Paul. For the next four to five months, she was all the parent those children had.

Thank God kids were more resilient than tropical fish.

Tanya Michaels

Tanya Michaels cant remember a time when she didnt want to be a writer. She finished her first illustrated book at the age of nine and is now the award-winning author of over a dozen romance and womens fiction novels. Tanya has been nominated for numerous honors, including Romance Writers of Americas prestigious RITA® Award and several Readers Choice and Reviewers Choice Awards. She currently resides in Georgia, where shes living out her version of happily ever after with her husband and two children. Visit her home on the Web at www.tanyamichaels.com.

Motherhood Without Parole


Tanya Michaels

www.millsandboon.co.uk

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From the Author

Dear Reader,

I have two jobswriter and mother. Reference books have been published on both subjects. Support groups exist for both. But theres really no substitute for hands-on experience! As difficult as parenting can sometimes be for any mom, no matter how prepared she is, I began to imagine a woman with zero prior experience who becomes a stepmother, joining a family already in progress.

What would that be like? And what if, soon after her becoming a stepmom, the childrens father was temporarily out of the picture, leaving her to learn the ropes on her own? (Suddenly the challenges I occasionally face in my own role as Mommy looked a lot simpler.)

Meet Kate St. James, the result of all my what-ifs. I hope you enjoy her story of becoming part of a family and her realization that there are all kinds of success in the world, some harder to measure than others but infinitely rewarding. Watch for her friend Delias story, Motherhood Without Warning, in 2007! More details about that book, as well as my other releases and reader giveaways, are available at www.tanyamichaels.com.

Happy reading!

Tanya

Thanks to all the readers and reviewers who

have let me know how much they enjoy my work.

You truly make the tough days worth it! And special

thanks to Anna DeStefano, whos been there for every

career and motherhood challenge Ive faced,

always willing to brainstorm, encourage and

discuss hilarious GFY and TWoP posts.

CONTENTS

PROLOGUE

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 13

CHAPTER 14

CHAPTER 15

CHAPTER 16

CHAPTER 17

PROLOGUE

My first Valentines Day as a married woman. Forty-two-year-old Kate St. James stood barefoot in the modern kitchen, theoretically tackling an impromptu romantic breakfast while her husband, Paul, showered. In reality, Kate had barely glanced at the cookbook lying open on the kitchen island. Having not partaken in her morning caffeine ritualsthe dark roast was still brewingshed been staring contentedly into space.

Mooning, her friend Delia would scoff. Fast-talking businesswoman Delia Carlisle was not prone to romantic sentiment. Then again, Kate hadnt been either until a couple of years ago. Until Paul St. James.

A well-paid technical writer in Richmond, Virginia, Kate had always been analytical and goal-oriented: Escape the Dallas neighborhood on the wrong side of Harry Hines Boulevard and her cloying, opportunistic mother. Check. Get an MBA. Check. Climb the career ladder until she was comfortably secure and self-sufficient. Check. By forty, Kate had accomplished enough of her personal objectives to consider finally making more time for a personal life. Especially one that included Paul, a handsome widower and CEO.

When their paths had first crossed two years ago, shed taken only passing notice of the soft-spoken man still mourning his late wife. He and Kate ran in similar circles with mutual acquaintances, though, and eventually formed an attraction neither could ignore. Paul told her once that hed been drawn to her strength, a welcome change from those who first noticed Kates looks. On her part, shed been impressed with Pauls sense of balance. Shed always been something of a loner, whereas he seemed to have well-rounded relationships and a laudable ability to thrive in the business world without resorting to cutthroat tactics. Theyd married a month and a half ago, ringing in the New Year with an elegant evening wedding before Pauls children returned to their prestigious New England boarding school.

Children. Kate caught herself anxiously twisting the wedding band on her finger. Dropping her hands to her sides, she took deep breaths and conjured confidence. It was going to be fine.

She had endured a pressure-filled childhood and a mother most charitably described as less than nurturing.

She had persevered her third year of college after ugly rumors of her sleeping with a popular professor had led him to leave his position.

She was fluent in programming languages, dealt with tight deadlines with poise and excelled in a field dominated by men.

She could certainly handle two polite, if withdrawn, children whom she saw only several times a year. Just because Kate hadnt had a stellar maternal role model didnt mean she was doomed to emotionally scar Neve and Paul Jr. Preteen Neve had asked to join one of her friends families for their upcoming spring break, and eight-year-old PJ was surprisingly quiet and well-behaved for a little boy. How much trouble could he possibly be for a week?

This summer both kids would be home for almost two months, but Kate had time to prepare. She would ask her girlfriend Patti for advice. Then there was Lily, Pauls former sister-in-law, who dispensed parenting advice whether it was solicited or not. Between Kates determination to overcome the challenges of motherhood and Pauls guidance on how to cope with his kids, they would navigate any family situations that arose. Piece of cake.

Not that she, personally, had ever baked one.

Domestic skills had never been high on Kates list of driven prioritieswhich should make cooking for her new husband even more special. He deserved thoughtful gestures and extra effort. Granted, in the weeks before the wedding Paul had grown uncharacteristically distant, but shed given him space to work through any unresolved guilt toward his late wife, Heather, who had survived barely a month after the nasty shock of her stage-four cancer diagnosis.

Kate had been right to trust her instincts when it came to letting Paul sort out his feelings. During the short time theyd been married Paul had been attentive and affectionate. Delia joked that the newlywed phase wouldnt last foreverjust one of many reasons she planned never to marrybut Kate was blissfully happy. A decade ago, watching her colleagues divorce and remembering her mothers unstable relationships with men, she couldnt have imagined herself married and trying to plan a homemade Valentines breakfast. Yet here she stood, chenille bathrobe belted over a turquoise nightie Paul said matched her eyes, humming under her breath.

Kate returned her attention to the book on the countertop; Delia had given her Six-Course Seduction, a cookbook for lovers, as a wedding gift. A feisty, independent woman who lived with a man six years her junior, Delia had expressed surprise that Kate or any bride would give up her surname. Well, not even Delia knows everything. Kate had been nearly giddy to say goodbye once and for all to Katherine Brewster of Dallas, Texas.

Pushing thoughts of the past away, Kate reminded herself that the future was bright. The coffee had just stopped percolating when she heard knocking. Several raps at the front door, almost louder than they needed to be, with a borderline impatient cadence.

Frowning, she glanced at the digital clock on the microwave. All the appliances and counters in Pauls kitchen were the same immaculate white, and Kate loved the bright, spacious feel, even though Patti joked the room would make her feel as if she lived in a bleach commercial. Nine oclock. While not obscenely early for Saturday, few of their acquaintances would disturb a recently married couple on Valentines morning. Could it be someone ignoring the cul-de-sacs no-soliciting policy?

Honey? Do we know who that is? Pauls voice came from a couple of yards behind her, in the hall that led from their bedroom through the den and into the kitchen. He was barefoot and bare-chested, wearing only expensive jeans and wire-rim glasses as he absently rubbed a towel over his thick salt-and-pepper hair. Pattis opinion of Paul was a lot more favorable than the one of Pauls kitchenshe thought he could pass for Richard Geres more attractive younger brother. High praise, considering how many times Patti had watched Shall We Dance? and Pretty Woman.

Kate smiled at her husband. I was planning to ignore them until they go away.

Another series of staccato raps filled the house.

Maybe we should check. He turned toward the front of the house with a sigh. Ill get it. Whatever youre doing in here smells delicious.

Since all shed managed so far was their normal coffee and melting some margarine in a pan with vague omelet notions, she laughed. His not being hard to please boded well for their marriage.

Through the cutout in the kitchen wall she watched him cross the living room. Paul had such a gorgeous house thered been no question of which one of them should move after the wedding. Because of the angle, she couldnt see the front door, but she heard it open, heard low voices. A swirl of cold air found her, along with the words federal agents and economic crimes unit.

Head-to-toe goose bumps broke out beneath the chenille. Agents?

She took a cleansing breath, unconsciously falling back on relaxation techniques taught by a series of drama coaches. Paul was an important man, the CEO of an up-and-coming communications company. Hed left a more established corporation shortly before learning Heather was sick because hed believed in this one so strongly. His move had paid off in spadesand stock options. Maybe agents needed to question him about one of the businesses he dealt with regularly? Or they could even want someone of Pauls expertise to consult on some kind of investigation.

That would be an exciting topic for the next country club event, but the clipped voices she heard and the agitation in Pauls tone spoiled the fantasy.

With barely a thought to her bathrobe or disheveled dark hair, she rushed to his side, attempting a smile. Sorry to interrupt, but

Kate. Pauls green eyes were wide, glinting with tension and alarm. Something in his trapped expression made her think of a hurt animal who might bite and claw anyone who tried to help. Call my lawyer.

She glanced from her husband to the two granite-jawed men in the foyer. One wore sunglasses; the other stared back with an expression so contemptuous she wished he would put on a pair. I dont understand. What

Now. Paul looked briefly like himself again when he added, Please.

Dozens of questions collided inside her, but one thing felt certain. The honeymoon was definitely over.

CHAPTER 1

Six months later

Are you sure you dont want us to come get you? Delia asked over the phone. Were good listeners. Well, Patti is. But I can get you drunk.

In the background, Patti Jordan huffed that booze was not a long-term solution.

Delia, who enjoyed riling the housewife with outrageous statements, retorted in a stage whisper that two of the best short-term ways for a woman to forget her troubles were getting nailed or getting hammered.

Actually, the promise of premium Grey Goose was tempting right now, especially since Kates financial situation had changed in the past few months. Any liquor purchases she made in the near future would be limited to the affordably generic. Joes Vodka? Yikes. But tomorrow would be difficult enough without being hungover.

Im sure. Kate tucked her legs beneath her on the bed, wondering if shed ever get used to sleeping alone on the king-size mattress. Her old queen was upstairs, but sleeping in the guest room would only make living in Pauls home without him more surreal. Adjust already. It had been five weeks since the sentencing. Thanks for the offer, though.

In some ways, Katie, I envy you having the place to yourself. There have been one or two occasions I wanted to smother Ringo with his own pillow. Delias live-in lover, Alexander, had been dubbed Ringo to go with Kates and Pattis husbandsPaul and George. No John. But, like Lennon, Paul now had his own FBI file.

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