“Mere friendship between us just won’t work.”

      “You don’t think so?”

      “No.” Ian’s voice was clipped and confident.

      “And since things can never be like they were, we need closure to the relationship, a permanent end.”

      Brooke knew that what he was saying was true, but hearing him say it hurt her deeply.

      “So, how do you suggest we go about finding this closure?” she asked. “Do you want me to leave?”

      He stared at her for a long moment before answering. “No. I don’t want you to leave. What I want, what I need, is to have you out of my system once and for all. I know of only one way to make that happen…”

      Married or Not?

      ANNETTE BROADRICK

      Ian’s Ultimate Gamble

      BRENDA JACKSON

       www.millsandboon.co.uk

      MARRIED OR NOT?

      by

      Annette Broadrick

       ANNETTE BROADRICK

      believes in romance and the magic of life. Since 1984, Annette has shared her view of life and love with readers. In addition to being nominated by Romantic Times BOOKreviews as one of 1984’s Best New Authors, she has also won the following awards from Romantic Times BOOKreviews: a Reviewers’ Choice Award for Best in its Series; a WISH award; two Lifetime Achievement awards, one for Series Romance and one for Series Romantic Fantasy.

      Dear Reader,

      Families have an enormous influence on who we are and how we make our way in the world. I find the dynamics within a family interesting and often entertaining. Other times I grieve for all the lost opportunities that might have salvaged a relationship.

      I hope you enjoy Married or Not? and find yourself rooting for each character in his or her struggle for love, happiness and peace.

      Sincerely,

       Annette Broadrick

      One

      If Sherri Masterson had had a crystal ball when she woke up that Friday morning in the middle of May, she would have turned off the alarm and stayed in bed. Instead, she followed her usual routine. She got up and showered at the apartment she shared with Joan Price, who was a schoolteacher. The automatic coffeemaker had her morning beverage waiting for her when she walked into the kitchen. She read the paper, nibbled on a piece of toast and drank her coffee before leaving for work.

      Sherri loved her job as a technical writer. She worked in Austin, Texas, with a bunch of brilliant geeks who dreamed up new software for consumers. It was her job to translate computer-speak into plain, everyday language, so that a computer user would have no trouble understanding what the software had to offer and how to use it. She’d worked for New Ideas, Inc., for three years.

      When she arrived at the office everyone she met was discussing plans for the weekend.

      Her plans were the same every week: do her grocery shopping, take clothes to the dry cleaners and pick up last week’s and return home to wash a week’s accumulation of clothes, towels and bed linens.

      Saturday was the big night of her week when she and her cat would curl up in front of the television and watch a movie rented from Netflix.

      She looked forward to her weekends so that she could kick back and enjoy her time off. She wasn’t interested in dating, which she had trouble getting across to Joan, who was always trying to fix her up with someone: a fellow teacher, a friend of a friend, even one of the single coaches at her high school.

      Sherri wanted none of it: the dating, the possibility of falling in love…again. Getting her heart broken…again. Been there. Done that. Barely survived the aftermath.

      However, the point was, she had survived. It seemed to be Sherri’s lot in life to lose the people she loved and depended upon. She’d discovered that, despite the poet’s comment, it was better not to love at all than to love and lose.

      Sherri had learned that life could be unspeakably cruel three weeks before her fourteenth birthday when she’d been told that the plane carrying her parents home from Greece had crashed.

      She’d been staying with her aunt Melanie at the time, and was eager to see her parents again, looking forward to enjoying their photos and, of course, presents and souvenirs they had picked up for her.

      She’d talked to her mom every day and lived vicariously through the descriptions of their travels. It had been the first vacation they’d taken on their own. Aunt Melanie had teased them about taking a second honeymoon since they hadn’t been able to go anywhere right after their wedding.

      When her aunt told her about the crash, Sherri refused to believe that her parents were gone. She’d spoken to them earlier that day. They’d missed her as much as she missed them and finally the separation would be over.

      The message must have been wrong. It had to be wrong.

      But the crash was covered by all the news networks because the majority of the passengers were Americans and no one survived.

      Sherri had little memory of attending the memorial service. Only vignettes of scenes had stayed with her. Her mother’s best friend holding her and crying while Sherri stood there, dry eyed. The display of photographs of her parents that her aunt had put together. Her dad’s boss telling her aunt that her father had substantial life insurance and a pension plan and that he didn’t want Melanie or Sherri to worry about finances.

      As though money could begin to replace what she had lost.

      She’d been so angry…at everyone: classes that had prevented her from going with her parents, the airline for allowing the plane to crash, and especially her mom and dad for dying and leaving her on her own. She had wished she’d been with them. At least they would all have been together.

      Sherri had watched as her home, most of the furniture and furnishings and both cars were sold. She’d told her aunt she didn’t want anything from the house, but Melanie knew better and had saved many of the personal belongings that Sherri later came to treasure.

      Sherri eventually worked through her grief, but at a price. She learned to keep people at a distance and to refuse offers of help, because depending on others