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  EXTRAORDINARY PRAISE FOR

  MAUREEN CHILD AND HER NOVELS

  And Then Came You

  “Fast-paced, with well-drawn characters, especially the tough yet tender Marconi sisters.”

  —Romantic Times

  “Filled with heart-wrenching emotions and an unforgettable hero.”

  —Rendezvous

  “Outstanding characters . . . an amusing, engaging, and heart-tugging story that is just the first of what promises to be a terrific trilogy.”

  —Romance Reviews Today

  “Entertaining . . . the developing romances of the other sisters also adds fun and intrigue. And Then Came You is enjoyable and makes for some sunny, light-hearted reading.”

  —The Road to Romance

  Some Kind of Wonderful

  “The terrific Child introduces readers to some wonderful new characters and a very special town. Blending the power of love and forgiveness, Child will touch your heart.”

  —Romantic Times

  “Child deftly invokes the full range of human emotion . . . thoroughly satisfying.”

  —Booklist

  “A touching story of friendship, deep love and scorching passion . . . A very good read.”

  —Old Book Barn Gazette

  “A heartwarming read filled with a terrific cast of characters.”

  —Rendezvous Review

  “Romance and sexual tension . . . charming, emotional.”

  —RoadToRomance.com

  Loving You

  “Packed with very strong characters and lots of emotion . . . an unforgettable story, and a romance to treasure.”

  —A Romance Review

  “Maureen Child always writes a guaranteed winner, and this is no exception. Heartwarming, sexy, and impossible to put down.”

  —Susan Mallery, bestselling author of The Sparkling One

  Finding You/Knowing You

  “An absolutely wonderful contemporary romance. A delightful blend of humor and emotion, this sexy love story will definitely keep readers turning the pages.”

  —Kristin Hannah, author of Distant Shores

  “The Candellano family is warm and wonderful . . . you’ll get swept up in the lives and loves of these passionate and fascinating individuals.”

  —Romantic Times

  “Maureen Child infuses her writing with the perfect blend of laughter, tears, and romance. Her well-crafted characters, humor, and understanding of what it means to be part of a family make each of her novels a treat to be savored.”

  —Jill Marie Landis, author of Magnolia Creek

  “Delightful romances involving colorful and yet realistic characters make these two stories by Maureen Child a veritable feast for the eyes. The large Italian family of the Candellanos is very convincing and the characterizations are so mature and honest that the author is to be applauded for such skillful crafting and accurate portrayal . . . the heartfelt emotions leap from the pages, and the delicately blended humor and pathos render these stories memorable . . . after the exhilarating first story, readers will feel compelled to read the other one too, and neither disappoints. Maureen Child is an author to watch out for.”

  —The Road to Romance

  “A fresh tale of family, conflict, and love . . . the characters are endearing.”

  —Old Book Barn Gazette

  “Both of these novels are engaging contemporary romances with a warm ensemble that feels like the kitchen of many readers. The story lines will hook readers.”

  —Harriet’s Book Review

  “Fall in love with this delightful family with these two tales, and prepare yourself for the next installment.”

  —TheRomanceReader.com

  ST. MARTIN’S PAPERBACKS TITLES

  BY MAUREEN CHILD

  Finding You

  Knowing You

  Loving You

  Some Kind of Wonderful

  And Then Came You

  A Crazy Kind of Love

  Turn My World

  Upside Down:

  Jo’s Story

  Maureen Child

  NOTE: If you purchased this book without a cover you should be aware that this book is stolen property. It was reported as “unsold and destroyed” to the publisher, and neither the author nor the publisher has received any payment for this “stripped book.”

  TURN MY WORLD UPSIDE DOWN: JO’S STORY

  Copyright © 2005 by Maureen Child.

  Cover photo © Gettyimages.

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews. For information address St. Martin’s Press, 175 Fifth Avenue, New York, NY 10010.

  ISBN: 0-312-99754-X

  EAN: 9780312-99754-0

  Printed in the United States of America

  St. Martin’s Paperbacks edition / August 2005

  St. Martin’s Paperbacks are published by St. Martin’s Press, 175 Fifth Avenue, New York, NY 10010.

  10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

  Turn My World

  Upside Down:

  Jo’s Story

  One

  Cash Hunter made Hugh Hefner look like a blushing virgin.

  He’d been in Chandler more than a year now and the talk still hadn’t died down. In fact, he’d earned a catchy little nickname. People called him “the Woman Whisperer.” A title not unearned.

  Josefina “Jo” Marconi remained immune, though.

  Well, mostly.

  “Ignoring me won’t make me go away.” Cash, in all his male gorgeousness, leaned one shoulder against the wall and crossed his booted feet. He moved slowly, lazily, as if he had all the time in the world.

  Oh, Jo so wished he was wrong about that. He’d just walked into the Barclay house, instead of staying outside, where he was supposed to be finishing up the trim work. As annoying as Cash might be on a personal level, when it came to woodworking, the man was as talented as he was gorgeous. And that was plenty talented. Still, Jo’d managed to go all morning without actually having to talk to him. Figured it wouldn’t last.

  She never should have hired him to help repair and repaint the Barclay house. The man was determined to seduce her for some reason and saying no all the damn time was really tiring. But damn it, she was too shorthanded to ignore experienced help.

  She reluctantly lifted her gaze to meet his. The man was just too good-looking for any woman’s self-control. Even hers. Of course, there was no way she’d let him know that.

  Tall, with broad shoulders and long legs, Cash had black hair that was slightly too long, his dark eyes were too piercing, his wide grin too knowing, and to top it all off, he even smelled too good.

  A serious irritation.

  “What will make you go away, then?” Jo asked, her patient tone sugary sweet despite the annoyance pumping inside. Usually the soul of patience—despite what her sisters might think—Jo couldn’t seem to help the spurt of temper. There was just something about this man that made her want to tear at her own hair.

  Never taking his gaze from hers, Cash shifted and dropped into a crouch beside her. Resting his forearm across his knee, he grinned at her, and tiny lines at the corners of his eyes fanned out. “You agreeing to have dinner with me.”

  Jo’s fingers tightened around the handle of her favorite hammer. “Like that’s gonna happen.”

  He’d been playing this game for months. Didn’t seem to bother him that she blew him off regularly. He didn’t care that she never encouraged him—in fact, went out of her way to avoid him.

  For whatever reason, she had become Cash Hunter’s Mount Everest. Didn’t m
atter how many other women had fallen at his feet. He was bound and determined to conquer her.

  Well, he was doomed to disappointment. Jo Marconi wasn’t about to be conquered. She wasn’t interested in a man at the moment—hell, at any moment. Especially one with Cash’s track record.

  Cash was to women what kryptonite was to Superman. One night in the man’s bed was apparently enough to convince even the most sane, reasonable, intelligent woman to give up her ordinary life and go do good deeds. One had gone off to join Habitat for Humanity, one was now in Chechnya, working with foreign adoptions, and still another was off volunteering with the Literacy Foundation.

  Of course the talk around town now was that Cash had become a monk. According to the truly excellent grapevine in Chandler, he hadn’t been out with any female in months.

  Which, to Jo’s mind, just meant he was getting desperate enough to keep bothering her.

  “You know,” she said tightly, “you’re just one more straw tossed onto a camel who’s already thinking about having a breakdown—when she can find a few extra minutes.”

  He lifted one shoulder in a shrug. “I could help.”

  “Is that right?” she asked, and slammed her hammer against a small finishing nail before she looked at him again. Just like a guy to think he could step right in and handle any situation better than a woman. “And just what kind of help would that be?” she asked, glaring at him with enough heat to sizzle his skin. “I’ve got one sister so pregnant she can’t stand up, let alone work. Another sister just pregnant enough to hurl every fifteen minutes. My father and his girlfriend are off on a cruise, and I’m playing temporary mommy to a ten-year-old brother who hates my guts.”

  Cash laughed. “Jack doesn’t hate you.”

  “I’m not so sure about that,” she muttered, and thought about how the kid had looked at her just that morning when he’d headed off to school. It was the look that she used to give her biology teacher.

  “I am. He’s just a kid.”

  “I know,” Jo muttered, shooting him a quick look, then shifting her gaze again. “And I wasn’t fishing for sympathy.”

  Even though, God, saying it all out loud made her want to hop in her truck and hit the nearest freeway ramp. In three days, she could be anywhere. But almost as soon as the idle fantasy erupted in her brain, she shut it down again. She wasn’t leaving, despite how tempting the thought was at the moment. If she left, who the hell would hold everything together?

  Nope. She was going to keep doing what she had been doing.

  Being the oldest Marconi sister.

  Being the responsible one.

  Being in charge. Even if that meant working double shifts to pick up the slack on their construction jobs—or dealing with a brother she hadn’t even known existed this time last year.

  Man, it really sucked being her.

  And it really pissed her off to have Cash Hunter try to swoop in on a white charger and slay all of her dragons. For God’s sake. Hadn’t she made it plain enough that she just wasn’t interested in being the next bouncee on Cash’s bed? Hadn’t she insulted him? Baited him? Ignored him at every opportunity? What did it take to get through to a guy like this?

  Her hand fisted around her hammer again, and briefly, she gave in to the indulgent daydream of giving him a good thump with the business end. But then he’d be unconscious and she’d have to drag his body to a clinic. And who had time for that?

  “So, Mr. Wonderful,” she said tightly, when he only continued to stare at her through those dark, liquid chocolate eyes. “If you really want to help, how about you go finish up the trim work? You know . . . outside?”

  He smiled at her. “Mr. Wonderful. I like that.”

  “You would.” Wouldn’t you know that would be the only part of her statement that he paid attention to? Honestly, the man was a walking hormone.

  “How’s Jack doing, anyway?”

  Good question. Her little brother hardly spoke to her. But then, he hadn’t exactly had a great year, either. At ten years old, he’d lost his mother three months before in a car accident, then been uprooted from his home in San Francisco to live with his father in Chandler. Not to mention, he had three sisters who were still walking a little warily around him.

  It wasn’t Jack’s fault that Papa had had an affair with the kid’s mother while Jo’s mother, Papa’s wife, lay dying. God. Just remembering it made Jo furious all over again. No one had ever guessed that Papa had been anything but a loving, faithful husband.

  Until his minor heart attack a few months ago. For a few terrifying hours, they’d all felt the whisper of Death hovering close. So close that Grace Van Horn, Papa’s sixtyish ladyfriend, had shattered the Marconi sisters’ nice little world by insisting on calling the mother of Papa’s son. Jo was the first one to admit she hadn’t taken it well.

  But then, finding out that the one man in the world you trusted above everyone else had actual feet of clay was a real eye-opener. She’d just recently been able to look into Papa’s eyes when she talked to him. And even now, the pain of betrayal was still there.

  And so was Jack.

  The unwitting reminder of her father’s fall from grace.

  As if they needed a reminder. Things were still . . . uneasy in the Marconi family. Oh, Jo’s sisters, Sam and Mike, had made their peace with their father. But Jo . . . she hadn’t been able to let go of the pain yet. The numbing sense of betrayal.

  But she so didn’t have time to think about all of this now. So didn’t have the luxury to indulge in a good old-fashioned pity party with hats and balloons.

  “Jack’s fine,” she said grimly, determined to believe it.

  “Yeah,” he said. “I’m convinced.”

  She gritted her teeth and tried to swallow down another flash of irritation. “What do you care anyway?”

  He shrugged and Jo determined to not notice the ripple of muscle beneath the black T-shirt he wore. He so didn’t need any more female fans.

  “He’s a good kid.” Cash shifted position slightly as if he were suddenly uncomfortable. “A little lost, maybe. But good.”

  “I know.” Jo sighed and hated to admit that the man had a point. Since moving to Chandler, Jack Marconi had wandered around the family home like . . . well, like a kid who’d had his world pulled out from under him. And she didn’t have a clue how to help him through it.

  Frowning at Cash, because she couldn’t very well frown at herself, she asked, “Don’t you have an elsewhere to be?”

  “Not at the moment.”

  “Lucky me.” Okay, if he wouldn’t leave, then she’d just go back to ignoring him. Not so easy, though, when he was right beside her, and she could feel his gaze pinned on her. Besides, his scent kept wrapping itself around her like some damn unwanted blanket.

  Leather, spice, male.

  Damn it.

  “You know what your problem is?” Cash asked, his voice a lazy drawl.

  “At the moment?” she asked. “You.”

  “Wrong.”

  She blew out a breath, slammed the head of her hammer against the finishing nail jutting up from the baseboard she was trying to attach. The heavy smack of metal on wood zinged up her arm and Jo enjoyed it. No matter what the rest of her world was like, she could always at least find pleasure in the work.

  And when all else failed, she could use her hammer to beat the crap out of something. Always cathartic.

  “Don’t you want to know?” he prodded and inched back as she pressed ever onward.

  “Do I get a choice?”

  “Not really.”

  “Oh, then please,” she said, looking up at him and fluttering her eyelashes until she was nearly blind. “Tell me so you can go about your merry way.”

  He grinned again, and Jo swallowed hard. The man was as attractive as he was annoying and God knew that was damned attractive.

  “You’re afraid of me.”

  She snorted and sat back. “You’re a piece of work, you know that?”r />
  “I like to think so.”

  She shook her head so hard, her dark brown ponytail whipped around and slapped her in the eye. “You’re incredible. I didn’t mean that in a good way.”

  Sunlight poured in through the windows behind her and spotlighted Cash as if he were the only player on a stage. His dark eyes, filled with secrets and promises and all kinds of tempting things, were locked on her and there was a knowing smile on his handsome face.

  That was his problem, she thought. Too many women over the years had thrown themselves at him. He’d come to think of himself as God’s gift to womankind and every female he met had agreed with him. Until her.

  Sure, she was attracted.

  There was a nice little hum of electricity whenever he got near her.

  But she was in construction. She knew damn well how much damage electricity could cause, so she wasn’t about to go sticking her fingers—or anything else—in Cash Hunter’s socket.

  “So am I really that scary to you, Josefina?”

  She winced. “I’ve told you like a million times I hate that name.”

  “Yeah, but I told you a million times I really do,” he teased, that smile deepening. “So, how about it? You going to admit that I scare the crap out of you?”

  “You really think you can dare me into your bed?” she asked and lifted the hammer. Not that she’d actually hit him with it or anything. Well . . . not unless he pushed her into it.

  A damn dimple appeared in his left cheek. “Hey, you’re the one talking about beds. I said dinner.”

  A shriek sounded in her head and it was only through sheer determination and stubbornness that she was able to keep it from exploding out her mouth. “I don’t have time for you,” she snapped instead.

  “One of these days, Josefina,” he said, leaning forward until they were practically nose to nose. “You’re going to have to make time.”

  Her teeth ground together as he pushed himself to his feet with a lazy motion. Then brushing his hands together, he hitched his tool belt a little higher on narrow hips. “Guess I’ll go and finish packing up. Finished the trim already.”