Just Surrender...

Just Surrender...
Kathleen O'Reilly

Straitlaced surgeon Tyler Hart hops into a cab at JFK…and goes on the ride of his life. Punky, funky, fly-by-night cabbie Edie Higgins takes him on an all-night New York City adventure involving a flat tire, a strip club and diner food. Oh, and a mind-blowing early-morning romp in a notoriously naughty hotel.So when Edie offers to become newly single Tyler's love sensei, he thinks, why not? Especially since she's a very hands-on teacher.They couldn't be more different, but they're about to learn the same lesson: to just surrender. Everything.

Someone was kissing his neck, and it wasn’t Cynthia.

Cynthia didn’t believe in neck-kissing. Tyler considered opening his eyes, but he’d decided he was dreaming, and he didn’t want to quit the dream. Not yet.

“Tyler,” whispered the dream. The dream had a low, sexy voice that tickled his ear. Tyler stayed still, his eyes firmly closed.

“We have a room, love. A very quiet room. It’s so much more comfortable than this booth. So much more private than this booth. Wouldn’t you like that? I would like that, Tyler. I want to see you, I want to feel you. I want to taste you.”

One eye opened, because when tasting was involved, reality was always better than dreams.

Oh, Edie.

Dear Reader,

Eight years ago we moved from Texas to New York, and it was an eye-opening experience. There are two separate cultures, both with their positives and negatives, and for many years, I would simply people-watch, listen and crack myself up.

I have always enjoyed hearing people’s stories, and my friends and the anonymous checker in the grocery store have no idea how much these little bits of their life inspire me.

Family secrets are a staple of drama, but recently, I’ve seen how real-life secrets, how the sudden realization that life isn’t always what you think it is, can turn a family inside out. And thus, Just Surrender… was born.

I hope you enjoy visiting with the Hart family. They’re a little wounded, but very, very loveable.

All the best,

Kathleen O’Reilly

Just Surrender…

Kathleen O’Reilly

www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Kathleen O’Reilly wrote her first romance at the age of eleven, which to her undying embarrassment was read aloud to her class. After taking more than twenty years to recover from the profound distress, she is now proud to finally announce her career—romance author. Now she is an award-winning author of nearly twenty romances published in countries all over the world. Kathleen lives in New York with her husband and their two children, who outwit her daily.

To Kathryn Lye.

We writers get obsessively attached to our words.

So often I hear other authors complain about the editors who make their words worse.

Thank you to the one who makes mine better.

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 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Epilogue

1

EDIE HIGGINS DRUMMED her black-polished nails happily as she sat behind the wheel of Barnaby’s cab. The midnight rain flowed down the windshield in rivers, her Mickey Mouse watch said 1:07 a.m., but JFK airport was still bustling with life. The May air was warm, but not too warm, which was a good thing, because Edie had quickly discovered that the A/C in Barnaby’s cab had gone out since the last time she’d driven it. Not that the brakes were in great condition either, but it so happened that Edie had a lead foot, which worked just as well for stopping as speeding up.

Curious, she scanned the soggy travelers that were waiting in the long taxi line. Since she had been a kid, she had always adored the drama of airports. The heart-squeezing hugs of families coming home, the long, wet kisses of reunited lovers and the misty-eyed wave from a forlorn six-year-old who didn’t understand why Mom was going away. That was life. The connections people craved. That was what made Edie sigh.

By her own rudimentary calculations, this late on a Thursday should be the pièce de résistance: tourist night. A boredom-busting extravaganza during which she could drive dewy-eyed couples to their getaway destinations. Or whisk away families to the overpriced tourist trap that was the Great White Way.

Hey, whatever made them happy. And that was the part she liked most. Watching people as they bubbled with anticipation, their faces glowing from that champagne-like awareness. The knowledge that good things were about to happen.

Now that made her sigh.

She grabbed her phone and checked her voice mail, just in case he had called.

“You have no messages,” the voice answered, and Edie stuffed the phone in her bag. No reason to think about missing phone calls, about people who didn’t need her, when there were thousands of people desperate to get out of the rain, which was exactly the reason she was here.