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CHAPTER1
Alexandra
“I hate Miami!”
With my head sticking out the window of my car, screaming at the top of my lungs, even in traffic people probably thought I was nuts. What I’d learned from being in the overcrowded, oversexed, and over-opinionated city was that everyone was a little crazy. They had to be to put up with the nasty, horrible people who lived here.
Huffing, I thumped back in my seat, honking on my horn like at least ten other drivers were doing. Although we weren’t going anywhere quickly. Even the timing of the traffic lights made life miserable. Okay, I’d had the worst week of my life, so I was obviously jaded, but after the last job interview, I was fed up with assholes who thought they were all that and a bag of chips.
I’d been forced to parade around in front of four men in the required cocktail uniform, pretending to serve them drinks. The entire time they’d studied my ass, not my ability as a cocktail waitress. No. They’d ogled my ass with their tongues hanging out. And who the hell forced their waitresses to wear five-inch heels? Hissing, as the traffic started moving again, I had an instinct to slam my foot on the accelerator, stopping myself at the last second.
Adding a wreck to the toxic mixture of events certainly wouldn’t put me in a better mood. At this point, only a bottle of red wine and a pint of chocolate ice cream would. Pint? Try a gallon. When the traffic came to another screeching halt four car lengths from where I’d been, steam was rolling from my ears. At least I was first in line at the obligatory traffic light. I could zoom out with glee, maybe making it through the next light before it turned red.
I tapped my index finger on the steering wheel, remembering the last nasty barb I’d heard after finishing my walk of shame.
“Honey, you have the coordination of a moose. Maybe you should consider another profession.”
At least the backhanded comment wasn’t as embarrassing as my ass being compared to two gigantic pumpkins stuck together. I should sue the bastards for sexual harassment. Yeah, that would work. With the three hundred and forty-two dollars I had in my dwindling bank account, I could only imagine the attorney I’d manage to hire.
So I wasn’t a skinny-minny like more than half the women in the city. So what? I had healthy curves, a place for a man to grab onto while he fucked my brains out. How would I know? I couldn’t remember the first, only, and last time I’d had sex. I shuddered even thinking about the fumbling turkey I’d allowed to take my virginity.
Nine interviews and not one bite. At this rate, I’d be forced to go home to Montana with my tail between my legs and I refused to do that. Thank God, I was living with my cousin for the foreseeable future. I wouldn’t get very far living on the streets.
Huffing, when the light turned green, I became a driver in the Indy 500, peeling out with just enough oomph my tires squealed. I’d never had one of those life-altering moments when time barely crawled, allowing you to see danger heading your way. I did at that moment, glancing quickly to the right before some asshole plowed through the intersection.
My entire world jerked to a halt, the sound of shattering glass all I heard. As my car was spun three hundred and sixty degrees, my mind spiraled to the silliness of why I was laughing. When the hunk of metal came to a solid jerking halt, I gasped for air, amazed my poor ole clunker of a car had survived the impact. The slow motion continued as I looked toward the other vehicle involved. All I could see was a stunning red sports car shimmering in the late afternoon sun, the guy sitting behind the wheel dressed like a movie star.
Or a gangster. It was tough to tell the difference in the city.
“Great. I bet he has fantastic insurance.” After taking a deep breath and checking myself, I realized I couldn’t go off on the asshole like I wanted to. Oh, hell, yes, I would. He caused the accident. An adrenaline rush jetted into my veins, anger placing a close second. I opened the door, determined to give him a piece of my mind. When my car suddenly jerked, I threw my head over my shoulder.
Hold. The. Fuck. On.
The asshole had backed up. Now he was turning his wheel. Wait a minute. Was the ass-wipe really going to flee the scene? Oh, no, he was not. Without thinking clearly, I barged into the intersection, positioned with my legs spread wide open and my arm thrown out, palm up. The bastard was going nowhere.
Yet he kept driving.
He was coming closer.
Traffic wasn’t moving to allow him to get through.
There was only one way to go.
Directly through me.
Fuck that. I refused to play games, glaring at his cracked windshield.
The second I smiled in my bitchy little way, I knew I’d made a mistake. The dude behind the wheel had no intentions of stopping. And I was suddenly frozen on the spot.
Whoosh!
I expected pain tearing through me like a blasting furnace as my mangled body was slammed onto the pavement.
Instead, I felt the warmth of a hard body pressed against mine, my feet lifted off the ground until it almost seemed as if I was flying. If this was what heaven felt like, I was all in.
All I could hear at first was the rapid thudding of my heart. Was this the angel sent to guide me through heaven? Then I could swear people were clapping. What? Maybe I wasn’t in heaven after all.
That’s when I realized two important things. One, I wasn’t dead. And two, I’d been whisked off my feet by what could only be described as a mountain man on steroids. When I was gently placed on the ground, the carved god stared into my eyes, and I thought for certain I’d melt into a huge puddle right there. Even the embarrassment would be worth being caught by him again.
