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Pam Marshall

SWEET SURRENDER

Linden Bay Romance   •   Contemporary Romance

(eBook) ISBN # 978-1-60202-022-1   •   (Print) ISBN # 978-1-60202-025-2
Cover Artist: Beverly Maxwell

Rachel McKenzie is on the run and the stakes have never been higher. Having just escaped from an abusive spouse, she's hell bent on protecting herself and all she holds dear. The elusive Rachel may be brave, but she's also vulnerable and destitute.

Matthew Steele is a wealthy philanthropist known for his work to help stop domestic violence, but he's no stranger to heartache. His current life is full of challenges and his past has left him emotionally scarred.

When the handsome and mysterious Matthew sets out to hire a new live-in caregiver for his autistic sister, falling in love is the furthest thing from his mind. But then he meets Rachel. Although he's initially determined to deny his attraction to her and to keep her at arms length, Rachel's innocent and unwitting sensuality proves to be irresistibly tempting. As the couple becomes closer, they forge a caring friendship fueled by an undercurrent of unspoken desire.

Will Rachel and Matthew forever deny their feelings, or will they give in to passion? This compelling breakout novel by Pam Marshall is about the journey of finding your true love, trusting your heart, and of the pleasure of finally giving in...to that blissful, Sweet Surrender.

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Rating:  5 Cups!

Tired of an abusive spouse, Rachel McKenzie is determined to find some sort of freedom. Pregnant with nowhere to go, she fears her husband, Gavin, will harm her worse and perhaps the baby unless she leaves. Thanks to a Good Samaritan, Father Michael, who finds her along the highway, she is given the chance at a new life at a shelter for domestically abused women.

Matthew Steele has his own trauma, with a scarred past and a present with challenges that face him daily. Matthew Steele despises abusive men. He offers help to people, never accepting the credit. The parish sends Rachel to his home for a job opportunity.

Matthew needs someone to care for his sister, Kendra, who is on the autism spectrum. He speaks so kindly about his sister, and even with his stutter, Rachel feels she can trust him. Matthew finds Rachel very attractive and a good caregiver for Kendra. They soon develop a strong friendship, even though both have haunting traumas. First they must overcome their past ordeals before they can even think of accepting a future together.

SWEET SURRENDER is a powerful read that carries the reader into a world of abuse and hurt to find an everlasting love of trust and friendship. Rachel exhibits much pain that the reader can feel. Matthew has afflictions that touch the reader deeply. It was as if they both needed the medicine the other required in their lives. Sometimes it is hard to trust again after the heart has been broken, and Ms. Marshall does an excellent job in blending a moving story that shows how to override that hurt and go on with life. This compelling story, with well-rounded characters is an exceptional rare read that one can identify with, while it tugs at the heartstrings.

Reviewed by:  Cherokee  •  Coffee Time Romance

Rating:  4 Angels!

After escaping her abusive husband, Rachel McKenzie finds herself on Matthew Steele's doorstep. Matt needs a live-in caregiver for his autistic sister and Rachel desperately needs a job and a place to hide. Loathing violence of any kind, Matt does what he can to help Rachel. Instantly he's drawn to her and feels an overwhelming need to protect her. He tries to convince Rachel and himself that they can't even be friends, but Rachel's not having it. There's simplicity, things are so easy with each other, when not battling their lust between them that just shouldn't be there, and if they can't be lovers because of the numerous issues between them then at least they can be friends. Both afraid of caring too much for the other, Matt and Rachel are both just trying to move forward, but there's a menacing force out there that threatens everything precious to them.

Pam Marshall's debut novel, Sweet Surrender is a story that takes many twists and turns to reach the happily ever after. In the beginning, I was unsure of how this story would unfold. The plot seemed slightly unbelievable to me. I found it hard to reconcile that after escaping an abusive man that Rachel would so quickly isolate herself with another man. Despite my initial misgivings, I am truly glad I stayed with this story. Ms. Marshall writes in a way that the story and the plot grow on you. Before you know it, you're so invested in these characters you're engrossed in the pages. Both Rachel and Matt have been hurt so badly, both emotionally and physically, that trust is a major factor with them. To read each of them learn to trust again and open their hearts was enlightening. I liked that this book made me think, made me feel, and kept me on the edge of my seat. What you think might be predictable, isn't. What could have become mundane stayed refreshing. Kudos to Pam Marshall! Sweet Surrender was a joy to read and I'm really looking forward to Ms. Marshall's subsequent books.

Reviewed by:  Jaymi  •  Fallen Angel Reviews

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Chapter One

Rachel Mackenzie, you've really done it now. She stared down at her husband's unconscious form. The chair she'd hit Gavin with now lay alongside him, in pieces. He'd fallen over his gun, the barrel sticking halfway out. She lunged for it, then halted when he stirred and mumbled curses. The choice between the gun and freedom was a no-brainer. In the year he'd held her captive, this had been her only chance of escape. Free of her chains, she turned and dashed from the hated trailer, hoping Gavin didn't recover too soon.

Beyond a muddy yard, lay a cluster of oak trees that formed a natural shelter. She hadn't seen the property since the day she'd arrived, and didn't know where to go, but it didn't really matter. Anyplace beat her prison. Forcing one foot in front of the other, she broke into a run. Her pregnancy made it difficult, but also spurred her on. If she didn't get away, Gavin would kill her, or worse, the baby.

Day faded to dusk and miraculously Gavin hadn't come after her. As the red sun sank in the darkening sky, Rachel heard the sound of cars and cried for joy. With a final burst of speed, she reached a highway, collapsing on it's grassy shoulder. Cars zoomed past her, but either the driver's didn't see her or didn't want to stop for a barefoot, muddy, pregnant woman. As vehicles ruthlessly ignored her, she started panicking. Did nobody care? Couldn't anyone see her distress? Weak, but desperate, she sat up and forced a thumb in the air and waited..., waited..., waited...

An eternity later, a van pulled to the side of the road. A husky, gray haired man, wearing thick spectacles, advanced towards her. Through blurry eyes, she saw that the man wore a priest's collar. Rachel called out to him, not sure her words made sense.

The man knelt beside her, his silver eyes glimmering with kindness. As he passed her a bottle of water, he asked, "What happened to you?"

Rachel stumbled over words, offering a short summary of her life with and escape from Gavin. In the midst of her tale, the man helped her to her feet and opened the door to his van. "I'm Father Michael from St. Vincent's Parish," he said, as he drove through sparse traffic. "I can give you temporary housing. I run a shelter for domestically abused women. Would you like to join me for supper?"

Rachel leaned back against the worn seat of the van and closed her eyes, allowing tears to escape. "Oh, yes," she whispered, suddenly aware of her trembling body. "Thank you, Father Michael. Thank you very much."

~

Weeks later, a compact car rocked slowly down a gravel country road. Numb, Rachel barely noticed the scenery passing by her. She tugged the shelter's donated skirt down to her knees. Making a good impression meant everything. In many ways, this job sounded like the perfect answer to her immediate troubles. She glanced over at the driver, a nun in full habit, not hiding the fear and trepidation she felt. "Maybe I should have stayed at the shelter," she said, twisting the hands in her lap.

Sister Mary-Patricia glanced at her. "You're going to a safe place." Her voice exuded cheery confidence and offered no room for further discussion. "Matthew Steele does so much good work for the community! There's a special place in Heaven for him."

Rachel nodded, a little soothed, lapsing into silence as the car turned into a long driveway.

"Here we are." The nun's caring demeanor shone through the tough leather appearance.

"This is the place?" Rachel stared at the oversized white farmhouse. It seemed as large as a mansion. "Only two people live here?"

"Yes."

Rachel shook her head in astonishment. The air smelled of flowers, mingled with freshly cut grass. The only structure obvious on the rolling lawn was a red barn. A pond sparkled just before it. Along the perimeter, leafy trees swayed in gentle rhythm.

Sister Mary-Patricia took Rachel's hand and squeezed it. "I have to go now. Good luck, dear. Call if you need a ride back to the shelter; if it doesn't work out." She passed a small suitcase into her hands.

Rachel slid out of the car, her eyes never leaving the old nun. She hoped she didn't need that ride back, but couldn't seem to close the car door. Her fingers gripped the handle until they ached. Before Rachel could ask more questions, the nun checked the clock on the dashboard. "I'm late for my appointment, Rachel. Please don't worry."

Rachel nodded and finally lifted her hand to wave, wishing the nun would stay. Even if this man were a Saint, she still didn't know him. The nun steered the car into the road and drove off, leaving her alone...alone and uncertain.

Rachel turned and blinked into sunshine. She doubted that the man who lived here neared Sainthood. Sister Mary-Patricia extolled the virtues of all, never seeing anything bad in people. It didn't matter. She'd survived at the shelter. She'd survive this experience somehow, no matter what. On unsteady legs, she forced her worn leather loafers over stepping-stones that flanked colorful flowers.

When she reached the doorstep, the house seemed even larger than it had from the car. She felt overwhelmed and intimidated. Only after her heart slowed, did she ring the bell. Queasiness flickered through her gut as chimes echoed inside. She sighed deeply, then steadied herself and firmed her chin. She gave herself a silent pep talk to buck up. She needed a clear head.

A few minutes passed, and Rachel grew uneasy. Why didn't anyone answer the door? Father Michael had called just before she'd left. This Matthew-what's-his-name had known she'd arrive shortly. She rang the doorbell again, then shifted her gaze towards the property, in awe of it.

~

The pastoral setting soothed her; would provide a wonderful place to heal. Birds sang in the background. Willow trees, in the far distance, bent their heads. She stared at the postcard scenery, hypnotized by it's quiet beauty.

"I assume you're Rachel MacKenzie?"

Startled, she turned back to the now open front door, finding penetrating, soul-searching, luminous eyes staring down at her. Her prospective employer looked more irritated than kind. This was Mr. Paragon of Virtue? He didn't seem to fit the part, but she needed him to like her, so she had to try. "I'm sorry for not paying attention," she said, forcing her voice to sound upbeat. "I was admiring your property." She added her friendliest smile. "Nice place!"

He grunted in response and maybe his eyes averted slightly, but she couldn't be sure.

Off to a great start, she thought, as she observed the imposing man with interest. He filled the doorway. Disheveled black waves fell above emerald eyes, lending him a slightly wild appearance. For somebody with such shimmering green eyes, he had a dark complexion, making him seem mysterious. His brazen appraisal triggered an odd sensation within her.

"So you're the girl Father Michael recommended for the job," he said, his voice, low and polite, but wary.

She didn't want to be here, not at all. Damn Mr. Saint for making her feel unwelcome. Had Father Michael forced this interview? She made herself relax. No matter what, she needed this job. She definitely wished to get on with the interview. Suddenly she wondered if this man would ever allow her in his house or just stare at her all day. She felt disquieting goose bumps under his watchful eyes. "Can I please come inside?"

He finally lifted an eyebrow, and moved aside. She saw his throat working hard, then he seemed to almost force out two words. "C-come in."

She hid her surprise at his stutter and stepped into the foyer, scanning the great room. Rachel knew a male dominated home when she saw it. An oversized plasma screen television was a focal point, surrounded by leather couches. Sports magazines scattered all over thick, wooden coffee tables. The cover of a teen magazine peaked through, and Rachel smiled, Kendra's no doubt. The wall and hearth mantel were bare of knick-knacks and homey touches.

"I'm Matthew Steele."

Rachel met his impenetrable gaze with forced boldness. He held out his hand, and she slipped her palm into his roughened grasp. Drawn by his magnetic aura, she studied him from close range. Probably six foot three, dark, handsome and intimidating; hard, rippling muscles strained against the fabric of his thin white tee-shirt and against a pair of well-worn blue jeans. Silver metal sunglasses sat atop his crown of raven waves. Bare feet added to his casual appearance. His lips caught her attention...too wide, yet full and sensual. He could only mean trouble for some poor woman. Strangely, her hand sizzled where he'd touched her.

"Let's go into the kitchen t-to discuss the job," Matthew said, turning and stalking away from her. His long, graceful strides didn't wait.

Nothing like good manners, Rachel thought, sarcastically. She jogged to catch up. Upon entering the kitchen, the strong smell of coffee assailed her senses, making her mouth water. Matthew stopped, obviously noticing the focus of her interest.

"Have a seat," he said, motioning towards an island in the middle of the room. His eyes gleamed a little warmer. "I'll pour coffee for both of us."

Surprised, Rachel nodded, then took in the huge kitchen, which belonged in a magazine, modern and all black and white. She could almost visualize herself kneading bread on the granite countertop and baking in the gleaming double oven. She slid on a stool in front of the island just as Matthew sat across from her. He set a steaming coffee mug in front of each of them. The intensity of his look made her squirm once again. Why could she almost feel his gaze? It spooked her out...

A bark from outside caught her attention, thank God! "Oh! You have a dog! What kind is it?"

Matthew looked surprised-she had no idea why-then he answered, his expression softening a little. "That's Ace, my husky. Darn pain in the butt. He lives outside, protecting the perimeter of the property. Come to think of it, he didn't greet you; guess he didn't see you as a threat. I trust his instincts t-too." Unexpectedly, he flashed her a guarded smile and she felt a strange fluttering in her gut. She tried to focus on the topic of the dog and not her attraction to him. "Blue eyes?" Rachel asked.

"What?"

"The husky. Don't they have blue eyes?"

Matthew cocked his head and watched her for a moment. "The bluest," he said. "Almost as blue as - yours."

His silky tone seemed to caress her, but he lowered his head and took a sip of coffee. She must have read more into his comment then he meant. "Can I see the dog later on?" She needed to get her mind off her sharp awareness of this man.

"Of course. Kendra loves him." Again, his lips teased a smile, but it melted away. "That leads us to the important topic; my sister. Kendra is eighteen, but, in many ways, she's much younger. She's on the autism spectrum, higher functioning, but she still n-needs supervision while I'm out. She's--too sweet and innocent." The first unfettered smile crossed his lips, flashing dimples in both cheeks.

Women must throw themselves at him, Rachel thought.

"My sister owns my heart," he continued, his voice low and tender. "I love her very much."

Rachel nodded, unable to stop herself from smiling back at him.

His eyes suddenly seemed remote; lost. "My brother Aiden thinks she should live in a group home. Says I hover over her t-too much." He shrugged. "I can't. I just-can't."

He sounded almost...gentle when he spoke of his sister. Rachel couldn't help warming to him. She watched his throat muscles contract with difficulty, and realized he struggled to speak. She wondered if he'd always had a stammer or if it had resulted from some trauma. He took another sip of coffee, then focused his beautiful eyes on her again. She tried to lift her mug, but almost dropped it. Some hot liquid splashed to her fingers. The man befuddled her.

Matthew handed her a napkin. Feeling her face heat, she wiped her tiny mess. "Thank you," she muttered. Yikes, she had to make him forget he'd seen her clumsiness. "So-what happened to Kendra's last caregiver?" Good change of topic!

"She left about six months ago. They never stay long, and I wish I didn't have to hire anybody." He gave her a hard stare that unnerved her, and she lifted a defiant chin.

"Why do you then?" He couldn't change his mind...couldn't change his mind...couldn't...

"I don't have a choice. I can't always be with her. Plus she grew up in a foster home with my brother and five other boys, a-and missed out on female attention."

"Kendra lived in a foster home?" She stared at him. "And Father Michael had guardianship of you once too. Why didn't you all live together?"

Matthew's eyes sparked something...pain? She wished she could stuff the words back down her throat.

After a screaming silence, Matthew cleared his throat. "I'll pay you $1000 a week plus free room, board and food. Is that adequate?"

Unable to speak, Rachel nodded, excitement quivering inside of her. That much money would get her far away from Gavin.

"Father Michael says you're pregnant."

She swallowed hard, seeing her future vanish. "Yeah, but I feel great."

"I'm fine with the pregnancy, but you're only staying in t-town until the baby is born, right?"

She nodded firmly. "I have to make money before I leave, but, once the baby is born, yes, I'm going - somewhere."

"So you'd stay here for about eight months." His brow furrowed. "A-after that, I'd have to find somebody else. That's all right. Eight months is a d-decent amount of time."

"Once I have the means to do it, I have to hide from my ex."

Matthew's features hardened. "Were you abused as a child? Is that why you found an abusive partner?"

She flinched, surprised by the question and the vengeance in his voice. Thrown off guard, she stammered, "I - why should I tell you about myself? You won't tell me anything about you."

"Sorry, I was out of line." He quickly retreated and shut down.

Suddenly she wanted to tell him, maybe because of his willingness to back off, as if he understood secrets. Hell, she'd kept it all inside of her for so long. "I have nothing to hide about my family. My parents were great. I was their only child and they pampered and spoiled me, maybe too much. Four years ago," her mouth went dry and she had to pause... "My folks were driving to visit me at college. A man in a semi had a heart attack, hit their car, and killed them both. I was so devastated that I quit school and took a job with MacKenzie Builders, owned by Gavin's father."

Matthew nodded, his expression alert, but non-judgmental. "Sorry about your folks."

Encouraged by his interest, she continued. "Gavin was attractive, charming, and seemed crazy about me, that is, until he had me where he wanted me-at his place. He kept me there by force."

Matthew gaped at her, then drew in a deep breath. "Wow."

Intense pain flooded through her, but she saw compassion in Matthew's eyes, sensed his genuine interest and swallowed past the lump in her throat. She heard herself continuing. "I'm still not safe. One day he found me walking to the store from Father Michael's shelter and grabbed me." The tears fell now and her head lowered. How she hated crying! She tried to stifle it, but her voice still shook. "I got away, but he said he'd find me anywhere." Angrily, she swiped her tears and leveled her eyes on Matthew, whose intense gaze seemed filled with...horror? She suddenly realized how far she'd let down her guard and it appalled her. "I shouldn't have burdened you with all that."

Matthew handed her a handkerchief. "I hate abusive men."

"We have something in common then," Rachel said, waving off the handkerchief. She felt another rush of warmth towards him. He wasn't made of stone. "Thanks for listening." She offered him a grateful smile.

He didn't return it.

A heavy silence hung in the air. She lowered her eyes, and watched her coffee.

"I need to cl-clarify something."

At the sharpness of his tone, Rachel lifted her gaze, puzzled.

Matthew's features tightened and he crossed his arms. "I'm your boss, that's all. We can't be friends. Don't even t-try."

So much for flashes of compassion, maybe she'd imagined them. Straightening on her stool, she felt the warmth ebb away. "That's fine. I'm not that crazy about the male sex right now."

He nodded once. "Good. Now I need two references from you and I'll have to run a police check too. I'm very picky about who cares for my sister."

She nodded. Matthew Steele might be a difficult boss, but she needed him. And maybe, she'd find a way to crack his shell. She welcomed the challenge. Behind his hard veneer, lived a man, a complicated man who'd been hurt. She didn't understand how she knew that, but she did.

"I can't leave you alone with Kendra until the police report comes back. You can do other chores though." He glanced around the kitchen. "The house sure needs a cleaning."

"I'm hired?"

Matthew stood, mug in hand. His massive form loomed over her. "If your references check out and the police report clears you, you're hired," he said, without much emotion. "I trust Father Michael. I'm assuming he made a-a good choice for me. You can start by loading the dishwasher."

"Yes, Sir," she muttered saluting his retreating back.

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