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      Christian stared at the woman before him

      He wanted to tell her how beautiful she looked, but he couldn’t—or wouldn’t.

      He stepped toward her, and she didn’t stop him. Her eyes widened and the tip of her tongue darted out to moisten her lips. The small motion nearly caused his knees to buckle. “I have a confession to make,” he began, his voice straining as his body tightened.

      “And what would that be?” she asked, her eyes wide and luminous.

      Instead of answering, he simply brushed a soft yet firm kiss against the sweetness of her mouth. Once his lips touched hers the contact ignited a firestorm that he couldn’t quite control. Her body melted against his, pressing in all the right places. Her softness fit perfectly against his hardened planes, and as she clutched his lower back, he felt his whole world tilt.

      Of course, this complicated matters.

      Dear Reader,

      Sometimes life doesn’t turn out the way we envision. A series of bad judgments can derail the most focused individual, sending them crashing into a situation that wasn’t of their design and certainly not part of their dreams. When Skye D’Lane materialized in my mind, I knew her soul before I ever knew her story. She’s the tough but tender, not-going-to-give-up heroine who finds love and acceptance in the arms of a truly amazing man—Christian Holt.

      This story is near and dear to my heart, as I believe in the power of self-love and forgiveness. We’ve all stumbled and made mistakes, but it takes a strong will to pull yourself up and keep going even if no one else believes you can.

      I hope you enjoy this story of redemption and forgiveness tempered with love. I know I did!

      Don’t miss the last in the Mama Jo’s Boys trilogy next month, Secrets in a Small Town.

      Hearing from readers is one of my greatest joys. Feel free to drop me a line at my website, www.kimberlyvanmeter.com, or through snail mail at P.O. Box 2210, Oakdale, CA 95361.

      Happy reading,

      Kimberly Van Meter

      A Chance in the Night

      Kimberly Van Meter

       www.millsandboon.co.uk

      ABOUT THE AUTHOR

      Kimberly Van Meter wrote her first book at age sixteen and finally achieved publication in December 2006. She writes for Harlequin Superromance and Harlequin Romantic Suspense. She and her husband of seventeen years have three children, three cats and always a houseful of friends, family and fun.

      To anyone who’s found the courage

       to pick themselves up after a devastating

       fall…take pride in your courage

       and your refusal to quit.

      You are an inspiration!

      CONTENTS

      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

      CHAPTER FIFTEEN

      CHAPTER SIXTEEN

      CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

      CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

      CHAPTER NINETEEN

      CHAPTER TWENTY

      CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

      CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

      CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

      CHAPTER ONE

      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.

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