Wrong place, wrong time. Now she’s running for her life.
Beautician Chanel Leroc can wield a pair of scissors like nobody’s business. After she witnesses a murder and lands on a serial killer’s hit list, she has to figure out how to protect herself—and fast. The killer tracks her down, but her sexy new neighbor, Dr. Ryan Naylor, drives the brute off.
The police dump the pair in a witness protection program, which doesn’t last long. Either the killer has a connection to the police, or he’s far more intelligent than they realize. All Chanel wants to do is get back to her safe life and get to know her neighbor better. Instead, she and Ryan hit the road and try to survive on their own.
How will they stay alive and keep their blooming romance intact with the killer hot on their trail?
Tagline – After Chanel witnesses a murder, she and her sexy neighbor flee the city with the killer in hot pursuit.
He deepened the kiss and danced the tango with her tongue. Her sweet cherry taste rocketed through him. Yes! Delicious. Her breathy gasp filled his lungs as he trailed his hands to the hot skin poking out between the hem of her top and her waistband.
Chanel clutched him close and feathered kisses across his jawline. “More. Touch me.”
Fucking hell. He backed her against the stove and claimed her mouth again. She pressed her soft breasts to his chest and tugged on his hair. The burning in his scalp thickened his cock. The inferno racing through him blazed hotter as he squeezed her supple ass.
She gasped and ripped her mouth from his.
He fisted her long, silky hair. The shudder rolling through him stopped his heart, then jump-started the organ. He unbuttoned her pants and stroked the hem of her cotton panties.
“Ryan.” She gyrated against him, breathing hard. “We shouldn’t.”
“You don’t have a boyfriend, do you?”
“Of course not. I wouldn’t be here with you if I did.”
He suckled the smooth skin of her neck. “I’ve wanted you since I saw you lugging boxes to your apartment.”
She gripped his back. “Why didn’t you say something?”
He thrust his erection over her belly. “I thought you might’ve been dating one of the men helping you.” Though he hadn’t seen either of those men in the building since Chanel moved in. One of them reminded him of someone, as though they’d met before, but he couldn’t place him.
“Mason and Jim are both engaged to their better halves. You had nothing to worry about.” She tilted her head back as he licked the line of her throat. “We need a—”
“I won’t hurt you.” He clasped her flushed cheek and treasured her kiss-swollen lips.
“Ooh, I know, but…” She shifted out of his hold.
He groaned. No! Why? He gulped and lifted his hand to calm her. “Chanel, I like you a lot. I didn’t mean to insult you about being a beautician, I swear. You must like me, too, or you wouldn’t have kissed me back.” Please, God. He needed release. This sexy woman had twisted him into a pretzel.
“Do you have a condom?”
His pulse quickened. “Maybe in my wallet.” He dashed to his bulky travel bag in the small closet and dug his wallet from a side pocket. He flipped through several dollar bills, credit cards, various IDs, and a picture of his ex-wife—he should toss out that snapshot—but he couldn’t find a condom. Even if he did have some, they would probably be out-of-date. “Shit.” He stuffed the billfold in his pocket and returned to Chanel.
She brushed her hair with her fingers. “I took my birth control late. We shouldn’t risk it.”
Goddamn it. He pressed the heel of his palms to his eye sockets. Impregnating a woman while they were in hiding from a deranged killer ranked low on his to-do list. He dropped his arms. “You’re right. The next time Mackeroy calls, I’ll tell him to bring us some condoms.”
“You will not.” She braced her hands on her hips. “Talk about humiliating.”
He snorted. He was ready to blow his load in his boxers—that was humiliating.
The investigator called them twice a day to check in and brought them whatever items they requested, within reason. Ryan itched to grab the black burner and Mackeroy’s business card from his pocket. If only he could find the number for the gas station down the street and beg the attendant to deliver him a box of latex.
Fuck, he was hard up. He and his left hand had been going steady since his and Kate’s divorce. The few women he’d dated after Kate skipped out early. He didn’t blame them. The long hours he’d spent at the hospital destroyed his chance for a lasting relationship with them. He wasn’t a wealthy surgeon who could blow cash on diamond bracelets to keep a woman in his bed. Besides, he didn’t want a gold digger.
With Chanel, did he stand a chance? The hospital was history, the clinic the future. Could they make a go of something real in the confines of this motel room?
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About the Author
Amber Daulton is the author of the romantic-suspense series Arresting Onyx and several standalone novellas. Her books are published through The Wild Rose Press, Books to Go Now, and Daulton Publishing, and are available in ebook, print on demand, audio, and foreign language formats.
She lives in North Carolina with her husband and demanding cats.
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