Skye D'Lane isn't looking for a hero. She stopped believing in dreams a long time ago--that's what got her trapped in a lifestyle she never wanted. Even sexy Christian Holt sweeping in and rescuing her from danger can't convince her to take another chance on love.
Christian never planned on being anybody's hero, especially someone like Skye. He's spent most of his life trying to outrun his own painful past, but he can't get her out of his mind. If Christian can help Skye escape her situation, maybe he can save not only her life, but her heart, too. And maybe this could be a second chance for a new life, for both of them.
There are no customer reviews available at this time. Would you like to write a review?
March 31, 2011
Number of Print Pages*
Adobe DRM EPUB
* Number of eBook pages may differ. Click here for more information.
Excerpt from A Chance in the Night by Kimberly Van Meter
Christian Holt knew the minute she entered the bar. His skin prickled in a sensation that was not unpleasant but certainly unnerving as his subconscious seemed to be on high alert for this particular woman and he wished he could find the off switch.
He didn't want to notice how her hair waved like summer wheat in a soft breeze over a gently rounded shoulder or how her face reminded him of an artist's rendition of Helen of Troy that he saw in an art gallery in Soho.
A businessman wearing a Brioni suit flagged him with a lifted finger and ordered a Bombay Sapphire gin and tonic. Christian could tell by the six-thousand dollar threads the man was going to ask for the good stuff. He could also tell that the man wasn't a good tipper by the way he didn't make eye contact with him, as if Christian was beneath his notice. Christian gave the man his drink and, as expected, the businessman barely gave him ten percent. Christian smiled and nodded to the man for his patronage and then made a mental note to go light on the booze next round.
Unbidden, Christian's gaze returned to where the woman was sitting. She wasn't what he'd call a regular at Martini, the upscale Manhattan bar where he'd worked for the past three years, as she rarely drank but she was there often enough for him to notice why she came.
Martini, for all its elegance and refinement, was an excellent feeding ground for anyone with a rich palate. It was a playground for the wealthy and over-privileged, with its posh contemporary decor backlit by hidden lighting. He watched as money changed hands, deals were sealed with predatory smiles and beautiful women were never far from the action.
And this woman, with her perfect figure and equally perfect face, was one of many he saw slinking around the city for one purpose: another's entertainment.
He slewed his gaze away from her, disgust threatening to curl his lip and ruin the careful facade he put out there as the amiable professional who knew when to look away and when to quietly pay attention.
He wanted nothing to do with this woman. Or any woman of her profession.
Christian had an eye for detail that he'd honed on the raw situations that shaped his early childhood. Out of necessity he'd learned how to read people as well as any FBI profiler with a fancy education. He'd learned his skills on the streets, figuring out quite young that everyone had something to hide and sometimes those secrets were vile enough to twist a person into something ugly. So, yeah, Christian had a sixth sense about people. And he was using those skills to make a nice living as a bartender at Martini where money was no object and anything could be bought.
Including the woman at the end of the bar.
Still, as much as he schooled his gaze away from her, she crept into his thoughts as if he had a giant magnet buried in his forehead tugging him in her direction.
A busty redhead took a seat at the bar and he smiled on autopilot. "Let me guess...white wine spritzer," he said, and her smile widened.
"How'd you know?" she asked, her appraising look taking careful yet casual note of his person and liking what she saw. He knew if he played it right he could get her number easily but he wasn't hunting for a good time tonight. Besides, there was too much of a distraction in his peripheral vision to truly focus on the delights of the woman in front of him.
He grinned with a shrug. "Lucky guess."
"I almost ordered a vodka martini," she said, the corners of her mouth lifting into a flirtier smile.
He cocked his head in thought. "Ah, but something tells me you're not a martini drinker and the only reason you were considering it was because you heard that Martini had the best ones in town...