Oh, God. Oh, no. He strode through the center of the group, scattering them, and followed her. Even with her back to him, his eyes burned through her layered, ugly disguise, a focused point of heat against her concealed skin. She stabbed the elevator button. He was twenty yards away. Fifteen, and closing. Picking up speed.
He couldn’t have recognized her. In this dreary get-up, she couldn’t be more different from Shamira the sexy dancing girl. She barely recognized herself dressed like this. The door slid open. She lunged inside. No other riders, thank God.
“Hold the door!” Gallagher called, loping for the elevator.
Asfuckingif. She punched the close button, and the mechanism engaged.
Their eyes locked, as the doors shut in his face.
Her heart was thudding, as if she’d done something wrong and had almost gotten caught. Maybe he was just wondering who the scruffy stranger was. Dressed like that, she stuck out like a sore thumb in the muted corporate elegance of Angel Enterprises.
She hurried through the lavish front lobby. Outside, a cab was letting a passenger out. She bolted for it, waving it down.
Noah Gallagher emerged from the entrance just as her cab pulled away. His eyes locked onto hers again instantly. Even shadowed by the hat, obscured by the dark glasses, through the back window of a cab that was already a half a block away.
He started running after her. Right out onto the street. Eyes still locked. The contact felt like a wire, pulling tighter and tighter. Then the taxi turned a corner and he was lost to sight. It hurt. As if something vital had been snipped with bolt-cutters.
Her fizz of excitement died away. The cold lump of fear was back in place.
She was so sick of feeling this way. She wanted to yell at the driver to circle the block, just on the off chance of catching one last glimpse of Noah Gallagher. To feel something different than that cold, heavy ache in her core. Just for a second or two.
But she could not have this. Not even a stolen taste of it. She could not let lust trash her good judgment. She had to stay murderously sharp. Constantly on the defensive. Without rest.
Sexual frustration wouldn’t kill her.
But there were other things out there that definitely could.
Get Right Through Me here!
Get My Next Breath here!
Or try In My Skin here!
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About the Author
Shannon McKenna is the NYT and USA TODAY bestselling author of over twenty action packed, turbocharged romantic thrillers, among them the wildly popular McCloud Brothers & Friends Series, along with two new scorching romantic suspense series, The Hellbound Brotherhood and The Obsidian Files. She loves tough and heroic alpha males, heroines with the brains and guts to match them, terrifying villains who challenge them to their utmost, adventure, blazing sensuality, and most of all, the redemptive power of true love. Since she was small she has loved abandoning herself to the magic of a good book, and her fond childhood fantasy was that writing would be just like that but with the added benefit of being able to take credit for the story at the end. The alchemy of writing turned out to be messier than she'd ever dreamed, but what the hell, she loves it anyway and hopes that readers enjoy the results of her experiments. She loves to hear from her readers. Contact her at her website, http://shannonmckenna.com, find her on Facebook at https://www.facebook.com/AuthorShannonMckenna/ to keep up with all her news! Follow her on Bookbub to get new release and discount alerts!
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