#1 New York Times bestselling author Christine Feehan pushes the limits in her next novel in the Torpedo Ink series.
Isaak “Ice” Koval is on a club mission when he sees a woman who stops him dead in his tracks. Soleil is a sweet, sexy, girl-next-door type. She’s an innocent who should be nowhere near the rough-and-ready world of the Torpedo Ink motorcycle club. But Ice knows Soleil belongs with him—and he’ll do whatever it takes to keep her.
After a life of drifting from one thing to the next, Soleil Brodeur is determined to take control of her life. When her breakup with her manipulative fiancé turns ugly, Soleil searches out the stranger who offered her a lifeline and ends up in a Las Vegas biker bar where she meets a gorgeous, dangerous man straight out of her most secret fantasies.
High on adrenaline, she finds herself falling faster than she thought possible. But Soleil knows little about the territory she’s stumbled into, and even less about what it really means to be Ice’s woman.…
Available 1/28/20 from Berkley
Chapter 2
Soleil
ran through the lobby, uncaring of turning heads. One didn’t run in a very
swank hotel. She wanted to grab security, but Winston had a way of talking that
made her look hysterical or childish and him look totally controlled, the adult
having to put up with tantrums. She wasn’t about to take chances, not when she
knew they planned to kill her.
Who
would believe her? Her own fiancé? A lawyer? A policeman? All conspiring to
kill her? She would look crazy and Winston would explain she’d lost Bennet, the
only one she had as family. He would get sympathy and understanding, and they
would all look to him to take care of her. He’d probably sedate her. Did he
have a doctor involved too? It was possible. She’d met one through him, one he
considered important.
She
burst out onto the street, her lungs hurting. Clearly, she needed more exercise
if she was going to have to run for her life. Her thoughts were wild and a
little hysterical. She couldn’t have that. It would only play into Winston’s
hand. She raced to the crosswalk, and fortunately the light changed and there
were few people in her way. She was able to cross quickly and get into the
relative shelter of the hotel-casino on the next street.
Noise
erupted all around her. The concentrated smoke from cigarettes threatened to
choke her. For a moment, she paused, a little disoriented. The whiskey she’d
drunk was making her feel a lot better. Clearer. She knew exactly what to do.
She made her way through the casino with more dignity, not wanting to draw
attention to herself.
The
casino floor was set up so that the exits were difficult to get to. Every
little turn put her in front of card tables, the roulette wheel, craps, or,
when she managed to find her way through the maze, machines. A sea of them.
They didn’t matter. The drinks had finally steadied her, and she was feeling as
if she was in control and could do this.
Still,
it was a good distance to the exits and it took her a few minutes to make her
way to the other side of the room. The casino was enormous, so much so that she
knew she’d probably covered a block at least. She had to have. But she walked
with more confidence and less panic. Every now and then, just to be certain,
she glanced over her shoulder, or paused at a machine to see if Winston was
behind her. So far, her plan had worked. Most likely, he’d gone out onto the
strip and worried she’d hailed a cab or taken one of the hotel’s private limos.
She was afraid to do that. He could trace a cab and he’d talk any driver into
coming back for him.
She
thought about getting another drink, but she hadn’t eaten. Already she was much
clearer in what she had to do. She felt very courageous. It only took a couple
of times going in a small circle before she mastered the maze of machines and
was able to push open the door that let her out onto the street. The lights
were much dimmer, but still illuminated the sidewalk.
She
looked left and right. She was right in the middle of the block. Across the
street, neon blue signs flashed, and the sound of music was loud. Each of the
bars seemed to be playing a different song, but she loved to dance and the one
on the end at the right blared the best music. She headed in that direction and
then changed her mind, a little shiver going through her. She knew Winston. He
would hire men to find her. He would call the police and report her missing,
saying she had a mental disorder and he was worried for her safety. This street
was still too close.
She
hurried down the block to the next line of bars. The streets seemed darker, and
as she came around the corner, a few men standing on the sidewalk in front of a
bar looked up, nudging one another. Alarms went off and she paused to get
oriented. Just in front of her was another bar blaring dancing music and in
front of it were motorcycles, instantly reminding her of Lana. Her heart
jumped. Lana. She hurried toward that one without hesitation. If Lana was
there, she would know what to do. She was that kind of woman.
I can't wait to read this. I pray my Walmart has it out tomorrow.
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