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      Shay swiped a damp paper towel over Vicki’s face.

      “There, beautiful again. Don’t you think so, Daddy?”

      Shay angled her body so that she was holding Vicki toward him.

      Mark’s throat closed, emotion making it impossible to breathe. The sight of his daughter balanced on Shay’s hip and snuggled against her was wrenchingly poignant. It should have been comical, those sparkly red hearts sticking out of Vicki’s mass of curls and Shay standing there with a too-small tiara perched on her head.

      I could love this woman.

      Dear Reader,

      When my son was much younger, he was in speech therapy and I remember being anxious for the day when he could share whatever he was thinking without any communication obstacles. Well, I got my wish. He has shared many things with a great many people.

      In this book, single father Mark Hathaway is about to learn that you can’t always predict what kids will say…and that sometimes they share information you wish they hadn’t. More than anything, Mark’s six-year-old daughter wants a mother and, when it becomes clear that her father is too busy with his job to date, she takes matters into her own small hands, landing Mark in the principal’s office.

      New principal Shay Morgan stepped into the role midyear when the former, much beloved, principal retired early for medical reasons. Shay is hoping to make a good impression so she will be hired permanently. Flirting with one of the students’ fathers would be a bad career move, especially a father whose first few attempts at classroom volunteering don’t go well. But Shay can’t help admiring how hard Mark works on his daughter’s behalf and how he keeps trying. She also can’t help noticing that he has a great smile and an adorable kid.

      As Mark and Shay discover, even when we’ve meticulously mapped out our priorities, life and love (and our children!) often surprise us.

      Happy Valentine’s,

      Tanya Michaels

      His Valentine Surprise

      Tanya Michaels

      MILLS & BOON

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      ABOUT THE AUTHOR

      Tanya Michaels began telling stories almost as soon as she could talk…and started stealing her mom’s Harlequin romances less than a decade later. In 2003, Tanya was thrilled to have her first book, a romantic comedy, published by Harlequin Books. Since then, Tanya has sold more than twenty books and is a two-time recipient of a Booksellers’ Best Award as well as a finalist for the Holt Medallion, National Readers’ Choice Award and Romance Writers of America’s prestigious RITA® Award. Tanya lives in Georgia with her husband, two children and an unpredictable cat, but you can visit Tanya online at www.tanyamichaels.com.

      If you ever have to meet a summer writing deadline

       while the kids are out of school and underfoot,

       I highly suggest that in addition to a

       wonderful husband and mother (both of which

       I am blessed to have) you arm yourself with a team

       of incomparable friends. Thank you to Ashley Cate,

       Sally Kilpatrick, Melissa Silva and their families—

      my very own superhero squad.

      Contents

      Prologue

      Chapter One

      Chapter Two

      Chapter Three

      Chapter Four

      Chapter Five

      Chapter Six

      Chapter Seven

      Chapter Eight

      Chapter Nine

      Chapter Ten

      Chapter Eleven

      Chapter Twelve

      Chapter Thirteen

      Chapter Fourteen

      Prologue

      I hate you, Santa Claus!

      Six-year-old Vicki Hathaway sat at her aunt’s dining room table, remembering how Aunt Dee took her to that mall in Charlotte to go Christmas shopping. Vicki had her picture made with Santa and told him what she wanted, really wanted, more than anything in the world. And because her dad said it was bad to be greedy, she’d only asked for one thing.

      A new mommy.

      But December was over and now it was almost the end of January. Her father hadn’t met any new women or gone on one single date. How could Santa not help her when she’d been so good? Her babysitter, Mrs. Norris, called her an angel. Vicki had been almost perfect, except for spilling juice on her dad’s inventory papers—which didn’t count because it was an accident—and sometimes fighting with her cousin Bobby (which didn’t count since he always started it by picking on her).

      “Vicki,” her aunt said, “is everything all right? You’re not eating. And you love pot roast. I made it especially for you.”

      Vicki loved almost all the food at Aunt Dee’s house. Her dad was not a good cook, which was why they ate most nights at the Braeden Burger Shop. Except on Tuesdays when Aunt Dee picked Vicki up from ballet and Vicki’s dad came here after he closed the store and they had dinner together. Tonight, Vicki wasn’t hungry. Her tummy had hurt since ballet class, but she didn’t want to tell Aunt Dee. Her aunt would make her drink that pink stuff that tasted dee-sgusting.

      Vicki’s stomach had started to feel bad when her dance teacher reminded everyone about the big April recital and said she was sending home notes to ask for volunteer “stage moms.” Lorelai Moon said right away that her mother could come.

      Lorelai’s mom was in charge of the children’s choir at church and came to their elementary school to read to the first graders after math centers. Lorelai’s mom was in the PTA with Aunt Dee. Lorelai’s mom also baked the cupcakes for their ballet class Christmas party. Vicki was the only girl in ballet—the only girl in the whole first grade—who didn’t have a mother.

      Her eyes hurt, and her throat felt sore like the time she got so sick she could hardly swallow. “I’m not hungry.”

      Vicki’s dad looked up from his plate. He hadn’t said much tonight, and Vicki thought he looked sad. He looked like that a lot lately, probably because he was lonely.

      “You didn’t work up an appetite in dance class, Vicki-bug?” he asked.

      She shrugged. “Can I be excused?”

      Aunt Dee frowned at her, and Vicki thought she would say no. But sometimes grown-ups surprised you. “I guess you can go up to Bobby’s room while we finish our meal. Bobby, you got some new board games for Christmas. I’m sure your cousin would enjoy playing with you.”

      Not

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