Her Knight in Black Leather

Cat Edwards wants one night of freedom from the repressive weight of her mother’s tarnished name. One night to be someone else. Dragged to a bar by her best friend in an effort to forget a broken heart, the shy bookworm quickly gets in over her head. She finds chivalry isn’t dead after all when a dark, mysterious stranger comes to her rescue. He’s wearing black leather and a mischievous smile that promises to be exactly what she needs.

Michael Brant has returned to the town he swore never to come back to in order to make peace with his past. Being home, however, brings up memories he doesn’t want to remember anymore. His first night in town, he’s captured by a damsel in distress. Cat’s beauty is made all the more alluring when he realizes she has no idea who he is, and he can’t resist spending one night in her arms.

As the town erupts with the news of his return, Michael’s dark past comes back to haunt him, putting Cat in danger. Compelled to protect her and keep history from repeating itself, Michael offers her his family’s name in order to keep her safe. But when the lie spirals beyond their control, can they stop their hearts from becoming entangled as well?

***Previously published with Crimson Romance***

Chapter One

“Baby, you must be exhausted.”

Cat Edwards stifled a groan as the drunken muscle-bound hulk—a man twice her size who looked as if he did nothing but workout all day long—leaned heavily on the bar beside her. His eyes had long since glazed over and a goofy grin stretched across his beet-red face. He waggled his brows, as if somehow he expected her to be impressed. With what? The fact that even propped on the bar he could barely stand up?

Praying he’d take the hint and leave, she shook her head and turned back to her drink. That was by far the worst line she’d heard since she arrived an hour ago, and she’d heard plenty. Apparently, sitting alone at the bar and sipping a glass of wine made her fair game.

Cat darted a glance around, searching the dance floor for the familiar face of her roommate and best friend. All around her chaos ensued. She couldn’t believe how packed the place was. Crest Point boasted all of two thousand residents, and she’d be willing to bet everyone between the ages of twenty-one and forty-five had come to the pub tonight. Was it always this packed?

Roadie’s boasted the best bar food on the Oregon coast. According to her best friend and roommate, Lisa Caldwell, the place was normally empty and quiet. Apparently it had been part of Crest Point since the town first began, over a hundred years ago. With dark wooden walls and low lighting, the place had a cozy, almost intimate atmosphere despite its size. The bar she sat at had been polished to a shine, the edges ornately carved. An old style jukebox lined one wall, but towards the back stood a small stage where everyone gathered.

According to Lisa, the pub hosted local bands on weekends. Being Friday night, the current group attracted quite a crowd. Bodies filled the dance floor and spilled out around the nearby tables, with barely enough room to move through the thick crowd, all of them bumping and grinding to the throbbing beat.

Cat searched the dance floor again for any sign of Lisa among the sea of flesh. What happened to “girls’ night out,” anyway?

“Aren’t…aren’t you gonna ask me why?” His words slow and slurred, the guy beside her slipped across the countertop then jerked upright as he caught himself.

Cat sighed. “No.”

She already knew the punch line—because you’ve been running around in my mind all day. Twice already tonight she’d heard the same line, when she’d been naïve enough to ask why.

She couldn’t help shaking her head as she glanced over at him again. He stared at her chest and didn’t bother to hide it. Following his gaze, she glanced down at her salmon halter-top. She should never have agreed to let Lisa dress her. Her first clue something was amiss should have been when Lisa convinced her not to check the mirror before they left their shared apartment. Only in using the mirror in the restroom had she discovered the dangerously low scoop neckline. The cotton fabric stretched tight over her breasts and made her over-endowment stand out like a blinking neon sign. Definitely Lisa’s style, but not hers. Now she felt all but naked.

“Lemme b-buy you a drink then.”

“Got one, thanks.” She lifted her glass in his direction, praying he’d take the hint and go away. She didn’t want to be rude, but she’d discovered the hard way any amount of interaction would be taken as encouragement.

Cat set her elbow on the edge of the bar and plunked her chin in her hand. What a way to forget a broken heart. Lisa loved this place, raved about it every Friday night. “The bands are great, Cat. You have to come!” Tonight she’d succeeded. She’d convinced Cat to come down here in hopes of pulling her out of the depressive funk she’d been in the last two months.

“What you need,” Lisa had said two hours ago, “is to get out and live a little.”

At that point, Cat had agreed. Now? She was in over her head.

So far, she wasn’t living it up, not even a little. So far, all she’d gotten for her effort was groped and ogled. Maybe she missed a vital aspect here somewhere, but how was all this supposed to make her forget she’d caught her fiancé with his secretary?

“Good, then you’re free to dance.” The guy beside her snatched her hand and tugged on her arm. A move meant to be suave and cool came across as anything but in his drunken state. Tugging too hard, he pulled himself off balance and stumbled backwards.

Cat planted her feet to keep him from pulling her off the stool.

“Look.” She yanked her hand back and turned to him, not even bothering to hide the frustration swelling within her. “I’m not interested, okay?”

“Easy now.” He laughed and plunked onto the stool beside her, narrowly missing the edge but managing to catch himself at the last second. When he steadied himself, he leaned forward and slid his hand over her thigh. “I’m just bein’ friendly.”

Lust and determination filled his eyes and made her skin crawl. She had the sudden, creepy feeling of being a worm dangling at the end of a hook about to be dinner. No matter how many times she shoved his hand off her leg, it returned, and each time his hand inched higher, his grin widened. As if somehow he thought with enough persistence she’d cave. To top it all off, his foul breath gagged her.

When his hand claimed another hold, this time about mid-thigh, and began to inch inwards, she decided it was time to stop playing nice. “I’d appreciate it if you’d get your…”

The rest of her sentence died on her lips as a pair of smooth, warm hands slid onto her bare shoulders, giving them a gentle squeeze. When the hands continued to move, this time down her arms, she stiffened her spine and clenched her teeth. Never again. She was never coming here again, and she was going to kill Lisa for deserting her.

“Follow my lead,” her new companion said, his voice low in her ear.

For sure he’d meant something by that, but the what failed her. Her mind had gotten stuck on his voice. Deep and rumbly, smooth as butter, with a dark, sensual quality. The kind of voice people paid $3.99 a minute to listen to. It added to the stubble prickling her cheek and filled her head with naughty fantasies.

Okay, she’d admit it. He’d intrigued her. Now she had to see the face behind the voice.

“Miss me?” he asked, louder now.

Miss him? Why on earth would she… Oh. As his meaning finally sank in, relief flooded through her. Not another handsy jerk after all. He was playing a role, and that was her cue. God, she wanted to hug the man. Chivalry hadn’t died with King Arthur after all.

“You’re late.” Playing her part, she straightened on her stool and reached back to twine her fingers with his.

When the clod’s hand finally released her knee, she swallowed a sigh of relief.

“You,” she said, spinning to face her savior, “were supposed to be here…”

Her train of thought derailed as she found herself face-to-face with the center of a broad chest. A thickly muscled chest barely contained by the black T-shirt covering it. Her heart skipped several beats as she followed the muscles upwards, past even wider shoulders, until her gaze collided with a pair of dark brown eyes that made her breath catch with their devilish glint.

Oh boy. She swallowed to wet her suddenly desert-dry throat. A five o’clock shadow covered a strong, square jaw, giving him a rough and rugged edge. His thick, almost black hair licked at the collar of his worn leather jacket, just long enough to be rebellious and tousled by the wind.

He looked every bit the bad boy, the one every girl in high school drooled over but would have dropped dead on the spot if he actually asked her out. Seeing him now had her shivering on her stool. He was dangerous, frightening, and sexy all at the same time.

“Forgive me.” As he bent down to her eye level, those eyes burned into hers, a hidden meaning in the dark depths she couldn’t quite grasp. She couldn’t concentrate much past the fact that his face was now a scant inch from hers, and his warm breath fanned her skin.

Before she could blink, he closed his mouth over hers. Caught completely off guard, she could do little more than let him. After all, he’d gotten her out of trouble and kept her from having to make a scene.

The way his warm, deliciously soft lips moved over hers, however, made her head swim. Plying, tugging, gentle yet demanding. Like a familiar lover who knew how to make her melt to his whim. No bitter beer taste that made her want to gag. Simply hot, heady male, drawing her in and making her forget time and place.

A tiny whimper of surrender escaped, and before she could think to stop herself, Cat leaned into him.

As abruptly as he’d kissed her, he pulled away. Lightheaded and breathless, she grabbed the edge of the bar to steady herself and concentrated on dragging in breaths.

“Sorry, buddy, this one’s taken,” he said.

When she opened her eyes, she found him staring at her. A grin stretched across his face that had a dimple popping out in his left cheek. His eyes held a wicked, self-pleased glimmer.

She dropped her gaze to her lap as her cheeks caught fire. She did not just do that, kiss a total stranger—and dare to like it.

Good God, she’d done exactly that.

Excitement fluttered inside of her, a sense of giddiness that bubbled up like too much champagne, leaving her all warm and tingly.

“Just for tonight, Cat, stop being you and just let go. Give yourself permission to have a little fun.” Lisa had told her that before they’d left their apartment.

Was this what her fearless best friend meant by letting go? Could she do it, forego the safety net and be carefree for one night?

As the drunk stumbled away, her savior sank onto the stool beside her.

“Sorry.” One shoulder hitched, half-hearted, but that mischievous glimmer didn’t leave his eyes. “It was all I could think of.”

She smiled. “I appreciate the effort, thanks.”

“You could say I got my thanks already.” He winked, his mouth curling into a sexy grin that had that dimple winking at her, and extended his hand. “I’m Michael.”

Drawn into the warmth that radiated from the man, she slid her hand into his. “Cat.”

He had the most fantastic hands. Very masculine, wide-palmed and long-fingered, yet his skin was silky smooth. It didn’t fit the untamed image he put out. In her experience, hands like these belonged on men who sat behind desks all day, who wore creased slacks and silk ties. It made her wonder what he did for a living.

Then made her wonder how they’d feel sliding over her skin…

“Anybody ever call you Kitty?”

The name raked down her spine like nails on a chalkboard. Of all names, he had to call her that one. Over the years, she’d been taunted with it so many times hearing it now irritated her like the steady drip of a leaky faucet. Usually the cat calls came with rounds of, “here, kitty kitty kitty.”

When her gaze collided with Michael’s, however, his eyes danced with a potent mixture of amusement and devilment that made her heart skip a beat. She was hard pressed not to smile in return.

Two could play at that game.

She playfully narrowed her eyes. “Nobody who values their life.”

He laughed, a rich sound that rumbled up from deep within his chest, so honest and infectious, she could no longer contain her grin. “Duly noted. Looks like I ended up saving that guy a world of hurt.”

“I could’ve handled him.” She hiked her chin a notch and furrowed her brow, trying her best to look fierce.

He leaned an elbow on the bar and cocked a single, dark brow. Those eyes challenged her, dared her to fess up, and her lousy façade deflated.

“Okay, okay.” She giggled and held up her hands. “I got in over my head, and you bailed me out. I owe you.”

The corners of his mouth twitched, satisfaction and amusement lighting in his eyes.

The bartender—a blond guy who looked slightly older than the twenties crowd packing the place—appeared in front of them. He leaned his hands on the bar and turned his gaze to Michael. “What’ll ya have?”

“Whatever’s on tap.” Michael turned back to her. “So, how many guys have you had to fend off since you’ve been here?”

“You want a refill, honey?” The bartender nodded in the direction of her half-empty wine glass.

“No but thanks.” Having watched her mother drink herself under the table one too many times, she knew better. Two was definitely her limit. “Five. He was the worst of them, though.”

“A woman like you doesn’t stand a chance in a place like this.” Michael’s gaze traveled the length of her in a slow, lazy perusal, heat simmering in the depths of his eyes.

“A woman like me?” Every inch of her trembled with awareness, with a case of nerves and a touch of excitement. She couldn’t remember the last time a man had looked at her that way. Couldn’t remember the last time she’d responded to one this quickly, either. What on earth was it about this stranger?

“Mmm.” The corners of his mouth eased up, and he leaned his elbow on the bar, resting his cheek on his fist. “You don’t seem like you belong here.”

“Neither do you.” He looked as if he belonged in a biker bar somewhere, surrounded by out-spoken bearded men dressed in leather.

A chuckle rumbled out of him. “True. But you stick out. You’re a bit…” His gaze flitted over her again. “…soft for this place. You look more like you belong in a library.”

She wanted to laugh. He had her pegged.

“Am I see through? Actually, you’re right.” She let out a sigh. “I don’t belong here. A friend of mine talked me into coming and then deserted me. What brings you here?”

“Wanted a beer.” He shrugged.

She couldn’t help smiling at that. “Lucky for me you came in when you did.”

“Lucky you.” An echoing smile eased across his mouth.

He stared at her, his eyes heavy-lidded and soft, captivated her in the time it took her to draw a shaky breath. Liquid and deep as pools, his eyes enticed her and drew her in. For sure he’d seduced many women with that sinful gaze. Yet she found them oddly open and honest, as if he didn’t feel the need to hide behind pretenses.

She jerked her gaze back to her glass, twirled it over the countertop. Thoughts like those would get her into a world of trouble. They already had. She’d let them cloud her judgment, let her believe in Nick, in Happily-Ever-After. Now she knew the truth, didn’t she?

Her heart twisted with the familiar pain, but she pushed it firmly aside. Time to change the subject.

She turned back to Michael to find him still watching her, but the heat from before had melted to something more somber. “Are you new in town? I don’t recall seeing you before.”

“Not new.” He shook his head and turned his gaze out in front of him, staring at the wall behind the bar. “Just haven’t been back for a while.”

His reaction niggled at something at the back of her mind. He seemed, for that moment, to close himself off. It made her wonder what coming to this town meant for him.

It also made her curious. She’d come to live with her father nine years ago. Her mother had dropped her off, never to be seen or heard from again. She quickly learned Crest Point was the kind of small town where everybody knew everybody else and where everybody looked out for each other. It was quaint and charming. Life around here was slow and relaxed. But it had always made her feel as if she lived in a fish bowl—one too many eyes watching her, knowing everything she did.

His reaction also bothered her because the mischievous spark that made him so dangerous and so sexy at the same time faded from his entire demeanor. She yearned to see the emotion light in his eyes again.

“I’m assuming you just arrived in town then?” she asked.

He looked over at her and nodded. “Came straight from the highway.”

“Where from?”

“Los Angeles.”

Surprised, she raised her brows. “That’s a long drive. You must be tired.”

He shrugged. “Took my time, drove up the coast.”

The simple statement told her a lot about him. Namely, that he wasn’t in too much of a hurry to appreciate the beauty of nature. On the surface they seemed so different, yet here they actually had something in common.

“There are some beautiful beaches along that route,” she said. “Some of the most beautiful sunsets I’ve ever seen, too.”

Surprise lit in his eyes, that lone brow rising. “You’ve driven it?”

“When I was thirteen. My mother and I moved from L.A. to Seattle.” One of the more pleasant memories she had of her childhood and the woman who’d raised her.

This got a smile out of him.

“Something in common.” His posture relaxed, warmth filling his eyes.

The bartender returned with his drink, and Michael looped his hand around the glass. Cat watched, mesmerized, as he lifted it to his lips. The memory flashed through her mind, of those soft, warm lips moving over hers, coaxing out a response. Would they feel as delicious moving over the rest of her? The thought had a languid heat crawling through her belly.

“So where’s your friend?”

Hands trembling, she lifted her gaze to his. He was watching her again, a subtle acknowledgement in his eyes. He’d caught her staring and didn’t seem in the least bit bothered by it. In fact, an answering heat flickered back at her. The exchange sent a delicious little shiver through her yet relaxed the knot of confusion in her stomach.

“Oh, Lisa deserted me for a guy with big biceps.” She leaned over, managed to find Lisa in the crowd packed on the dance floor, and pointed her out. “See the girl in the tight red number? That would be my date for this evening. See the guy with her? The guy you chased off would’ve been just her style. Frankly, I’d leave, but I promised her I’d at least try to have a good time. That’s what I’m supposed to be doing here, trying to relax and have a good time.”

She straightened on the stool and sighed, then looked over at him and leaned her face into her hand.

“You’re right,” she said, uncertain quite why she was telling him all of this, but drawn in all the same. “I normally spend my Saturday nights curled up with a good book. The whole bar scene really isn’t my style. It’s a tad overwhelming, actually. The music is a little too loud, the beat makes my head pound, and the sheer number of bodies makes me slightly claustrophobic.”

She’d sat at the bar, because here the crowd thinned out, and she didn’t have to shout in order to be heard.

“So if you’re supposed to be having fun, why aren’t you out there dancing?” He quirked a brow in playful challenge.

She looked down at her glass, stared at the murky red liquid. “Because I chickened out. I feel like a fish out of water here, like I don’t quite belong. Lisa got up to dance, but I haven’t been able to be quite so bold. Dancing alone just looks pathetic.”

His eyes narrowed. He sat studying her so long and intensely, she fidgeted under the heat of his gaze, toying with her napkin. It made her wonder what he saw, made her feel like that fish in the bowl again, and the wallflower within her wanted to become one with the floor.

When he slid off his stool and rose to his feet beside her, her heart sank. Great. The only interesting man she’d met all night, and she’d managed to scare him off by being her boring, geeky self.

“Dance with me.”

At the sound of his voice, she jerked her head in his direction, unable to stop the surprise that bounced around inside her chest. He’d taken off his jacket, left it sitting on the stool, and held a hand out in silent invitation. The softness in his eyes all but invited her to accept.

Lisa’s voice echoed in her head. “Get out and live a little, Cat. Be somebody you’re not.” What could one dance hurt?

When she slipped her hand into his, he smiled and took her other, gently pulling her to her feet. For a moment, they stood regarding each other, those dark eyes hooded, full of a mysterious something that made her shiver again with that overwhelming sense of awareness. His kiss flitted through her thoughts, and she licked her lips, remembering the soft press of his. Oh what she’d give for another taste…

His gaze dropped, hunger flaring in his eyes, subdued, but there all the same.

A heartbeat later, he turned, leading her silently through the throng of people to the middle of the dance floor. The song the band played shifted, and the strains of a softer, sultrier rhythm filled the room. People around them paired off. Her nerves jumped. In about two seconds he was going to pull her into his arms. She’d get to feel that long, hard body against hers, and every delicious sensation headed south, pooling between her thighs.

Michael didn’t just wrap his arms around her waist the way she’d expected, however. Instead, one hand came to rest at the small of her back as he tugged her against him. His other hand clasped hers and held them tucked against his chest.

The formal dance position set her off balance again and contradicted the untamed image he portrayed. It hinted at surprises beneath the bad boy surface, and heaven help her, she yearned to uncover each and every one of them, to find the man beneath the mask.

Was she insane? She’d only just met this man. She did not do these sorts of things. This was Lisa’s style, not hers. She’d always been the shy bookworm. Never mind that her engagement with Nick had only barely ended. The last thing she needed was to get involved again so soon.

Michael overwhelmed her senses. His presence commanded attention. She suspected wherever he went, he stood out in the crowd, but not because of anything he said or did, but simply because of the confident way he carried himself. Like he didn’t care what other people thought. Yet there was an open honesty about him that completely disarmed her.

Exactly what she shouldn’t trust.

At the moment, with his strong body and all those muscles pressed against her, she couldn’t remember her name let alone why this was a bad idea. He held her so close her breasts brushed the solid wall of his chest. His muscular thighs glided against hers as they moved to the soft music. His scent—a mixture of soap and leather and something all male—enveloped her, filling her lungs in a heady rush every time she inhaled. She felt…wrapped in him. A place she suddenly yearned to be.

“So, who was it that broke your heart and sent you to a place like this to try and forget?” His quiet voice sounded in her ear, his breath warm against the sensitive lobe, sending shivers down her spine. She didn’t fare any better when she pulled back to look into his eyes. Those dark, liquid pools simmered with desire yet radiated warmth.

“You’re very perceptive.”

“Been there.” He shrugged in dismissal, but his eyes held truth.

Someone had broken his heart once, and the knowledge seeped inside and wrapped itself around her.

“I caught my fiancé with his assistant in his office. He was also my boss. I threw his ring in his face and quit my job. Just thinking about that day makes me angry all over again. I was supposed to have the day off and I’d gone to surprise him, but found him with his pants down around his ankles. They hadn’t even bothered to close the door.”

The flush of humiliation heated her cheeks. How could she have been so naïve, so blind? Nick was from one of the most prominent families in town—wealthy, powerful. She’d been nothing but a plaything to him, a jaunt. A year of her life wasted.

“His loss if you ask me.” Michael’s voice rumbled low and husky beside her ear.

Yanked from her thoughts, she refocused on the man who held her. A man whose intense gaze made her feel like the only woman in the room. Something, she admitted belatedly, Nick hadn’t ever made her feel.

A warm smile tugged at the corners of Michael’s mouth. He winked. “But my gain.”

As she stared up at him it hit her. Her heart thundered in her ears, threatening to pound right out of her chest. Lisa had been telling her for two months now she needed to get out and have fun, to come out of her shell and live a little. That she’d allowed Nick to walk all over her because she’d been too afraid to stand up for herself, too afraid to shatter the safe little world she’d encompassed herself in.

Too busy trying to be someone she wasn’t—perfect—in an attempt to keep her past where it belonged. A difficult task to accomplish in a town where everyone knew everyone else and nobody ever forgot. They all knew who her mother was and had been watching her since the day she moved back nine years ago. They all seemed to be waiting to see if she’d turn out like the woman who’d raised her. She couldn’t count on both hands the number of guys in high school who assumed she’d give it out as easily as her mother had.

So she spent her life trying to be exactly the opposite, walked the straight and narrow until it suffocated her. Afraid to live for fear of what people would say.

Like mother, like daughter. The old taunt still haunted her.

Tonight she wanted freedom. Just one night of freedom from the worries. For one night to be…someone else. Anyone else.

That’s what Michael was—a chance at freedom.

Allowing herself the moment, she hesitantly pressed close and leaned her head against his chest. His arm tightened around her, enveloping her in his powerful embrace. A disturbing place to be if only because it felt so natural, so comfortable. Her internal warning system ought to be blaring a red alert, telling her to stop this before it even started.

Instead something else insisted it wasn’t nearly enough, and she couldn’t prevent the soft sigh that escaped. The man filled her with warmth and set her at ease. The longer they swayed to the soft music, the more his arms were exactly where she wanted to be.

Silence fell between them. There was nothing but his body gently moving against hers to the music. Only the sound of his heart beating beneath her ear, a fierce, erratic rhythm that said she wasn’t the only one affected by what should’ve been simple contact.

Finally, curiosity got the better of her, and she lifted her gaze to his. “You don’t dance like a man who rides a motorcycle.”

“How’d you know I ride?”

“Lucky guess.” She fingered the edge of his jacket, the leather worn soft.

“Have you ever ridden?” Something intense flashed in his eyes.

“Once, when I was little. My mother’s boyfriend. We crashed, and I broke my arm.” She shivered at the memory. They were beautiful machines, and she’d never forgotten the joy and freedom of riding, but the sight of one still made her hesitate. “Had a fear of them ever since.”

He went silent, for so long she swore she could hear the wheels of his mind turning. Finally, he leaned down, his lips moving against her earlobe as he whispered to her. “You’d be safe with me.”

His words inspired the images—seated behind him, the entire front of her pressed intimately against his back, the wind in her hair and the engine beneath her. If she closed her eyes, she could almost feel his muscles as she wound her arms around him and held on tight…

She leaned back enough to look up at him. Those dark eyes once again caught and held her a willing prisoner. “Is that a promise?”

“No. I could just as easily get sideswiped by some idiot on a cell phone. Have, actually. But sometimes you have to be willing to take a chance. If you don’t, then you’re not really living.”

A tremor ran through her, as much from the heat radiating from his eyes as the excitement racing through her veins. Everything she’d ever learned growing up screamed at her to tell him no. This wasn’t her. She normally would never do something as daring as this, and Michael wasn’t normally her type.

But wasn’t that the point? To be someone else for the night? To be free?

Michael tugged her imperceptibly closer. “Take a ride with me, Cat.”

His tone all but begged her to say yes. His gaze burned into hers. Was he pondering the thought of her clinging to his back like a second skin? The feel of her hands holding him close?

Another shiver slid down her spine, this one pooling warm and delicious in her belly. “I’d love to.”

Reviews

"Her Knight in Black Leather was a sweet and hot quickie that had me frozen to my seat....I recommend picking this one up if you like your romances quickand hot with some danger thrown in the mix."
--Brenda Demko, Crazy For Books

"Great, fluid writing, sincere dialogue and loveable characters. I fell in love with this story, and I think you will too."
--Ms. Romantic Reads, Top Pick

I highly recommend this outstanding book to all romance lovers who are looking for a deeply satisfying read. This is a Harlequin Junkie top pick! Kudos to Ms. Stewart!
--Harlequin Junkies, Top Pick

"Her Knight in Black Leather is an exciting, wonderful read filled with twists, turns, a seriously sexy man, and a hot motorcycle... The writing is engaging, the romance deep, and the ending?… Wonderful."
-- Anya's Reading Corner

"The author didn’t create invincible people; she created a real man and woman, with pasts and hopeful for a future. A great story that will have you wondering until the very end, about pretty much everything!"
-- Reviewing Vixens

" Cat and Michael were both wonderful characters. They were down to earth, practical people who didn’t go out of their way to add drama to their romance. These two character types seem to be a rarity in romance books—they actually take the time to communicate with each other. Shocking, I know. The issues they had to work through to reach their happy ending weren’t foolish misunderstandings or pointless drama, they were real, which made it easy for the reader to sympathize."
-- Fiction Vixen