Ghost of a Chance

by Cynthia Eden

  By Cynthia Eden

  This book is a work of fiction. Any similarities to real people, places, or events are not intentional and are purely the result of coincidence. The characters, places, and events in this story are fictional.

  Copyright ©2020 by Cindy Roussos

  All rights reserved. This publication may not be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form without the express written consent of the author except for the use of small quotes or excerpts used in book reviews.

  Copy-editing by: JRT Editing

  (build 3)

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Ghost Of A Chance

  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 Epilogue

  Author’s Note

  About The Author

  Chapter One

  “You’re staring again,” Marilyn Montgomery whispered. Only her voice was one of those overly loud, fake whispers. The kind that far too many people could actually hear.

  At her friend’s words, Tess Barrett jerked her gaze off the sexy-as-hell guy that she had—yes, so guilty—been staring at for probably way too long. The club was crowded. No, more like packed. A band blasted from the stage. Drinks flowed. Laughter filled the air. Couples danced and kissed, and she was even about ninety percent sure she’d seen one man and woman having sex in the back of the club. There were all sorts of things happening around her.

  But he kept pulling her attention.

  “He’s hot.” Marilyn took a long swig from her beer. Her red nails gleamed against the long neck of the bottle. “Got that whole I’m-a-badass-and-I-want-to-do-bad-things-to-you vibe going on.”

  Tess felt her face flush. “He does not.” Yes, yes, he does.

  “I wouldn’t mind doing some bad things with him,” Latonya Wilson added with a soft sigh as her dark gaze drifted over to the man in question. “It’s been way too long since I’ve done bad things. I need some bad things in my life.” She raised one perfect eyebrow at Tess. “What about you? How long has it been?”

  Since she’d done something bad? Um, a very long time. Tess reached for the water in front of her. Water because she was on call. Water because even if she wasn’t on call, she wouldn’t be drinking. She didn’t drink. Didn’t hook up with strangers. Didn’t break any of the careful rules that she had for her life.

  She bit her lower lip and tried not to glance toward the bar once more. What was the deal with her? The guy was good-looking. Yes, absolutely. Hard jaw covered by a delectable growth of stubble. Messy hair that was a little long. Killer body. The white t-shirt he wore was seriously stretched by his shoulders and powerful arms. When she’d been, ah, staring, Tess had noticed that his long legs had been encased in faded denim, and his fingers drummed idly on the bar top.

  “Uh, oh.” Marilyn straightened in her chair. She was stage whispering again as she noted, “Now, he’s staring…”

  Tess stiffened her shoulders—

  “At you!” Marilyn finished almost gleefully.

  What? Tess’s head whipped around. The jerky, startled movement was totally not a cool and casual thing to do. She was probably supposed to play some teasing game with him and not gape in his direction. Wasn’t that expected club behavior? If so, she failed miserably because her head whipped toward the guy, and she gaped at him. Yet as she gaped, Tess saw that her mystery man was, in fact, staring at their table.

  “He’s not staring at me.” She forced herself to look away. Again. “He’s probably looking at one of you.” Latonya was absolutely gorgeous. Tall, curvy, and with a flawless face, the African American doctor had been known to always leave a trail of men in her wake. And as for Marilyn, the woman looked a whole lot like her namesake, Marilyn Monroe. Like the famous star, Marilyn didn’t suffer for male attention. Never had, never would.

  Marilyn laughed. “His eyes are on you. And don’t look now—seriously, do not look again because you’ll give off a desperate vibe if you do that—but he’s heading this way.”

  “Bad things,” Latonya muttered under her breath. “If he offers, please go do some very bad—”

  Latonya didn’t get to finish her words because he was there. Tess just felt him. She eased out a low breath and kept her eyes on the table in front of her. Marilyn knew the dating scene. Heck, Marilyn ruled the dating scene with an iron fist. If she said don’t look, then Tess shouldn’t look. She should dig deep and find some way to be chill about this whole situation—

  “Oh, so now you won’t look my way?” His voice was low and deep. It sank through her body and made Tess feel warm in all kinds of fun places. It was because his voice was pure warm yumminess that it took so long for his actual words to register and when they did finally sink in…

  Tess winced and glanced at him.

  Golden eyes. Huh. That was interesting. Okay, gorgeous. Across the club, she hadn’t been able to tell that his eyes were such incredible gold. Unusual. And he was even better looking up close. How was that possible?

  He smiled. A half-smile that didn’t light his eyes.

  She wanted to smile back. Instead, Tess just kept staring. When it came to dating, she was pretty much a total novice. Her fault. She poured herself into her work, and it wasn’t like there was a whole lot of time or energy left over for the dating scene. She didn’t have hours to spend getting to know someone. She didn’t want to be swiping left or right or whatever on her phone. She didn’t have time for movie nights. Or candle-lit dinners. Tess usually came home from work, collapsed, and then repeated that pattern a whole lot. Unsexy. Unexciting.

  “Would you like to dance?” he asked.

  She shook her head no.

  He blinked.

  Tess felt Marilyn kick her under the table. Hard. What the hell?

  “Did I…misread the situation?” His voice was so damn sexy.

  Marilyn kicked her again.

  “I don’t dance well,” Tess blurted. “And the place is so packed—I mean, there’s not really any room on the dance floor for us.” She was still staring at him. His bone structure was fabulous. A thing of beauty, not that he probably wanted to hear that. But she knew a lot about bones and bodies and—

  “I can take you to a place where there is plenty of room.” He extended his hand toward her. “And I don’t care how you dance. You can break every toe I have. I just want to get to know you better.”

  Oh. That was rather—nice? Gallant? Sexy? Maybe all of the above? She didn’t take his hand, though, because caution held her back. “Where exactly do you want to take me?”

  He turned his head, just a bit, and glanced toward the second level of the club. “VIP space.”

  She hadn’t even known there was a VIP space. It was her first visit to the club. The club had opened two weeks ago—some sort of grand re-opening under new management situation— and Marilyn had raved about it, so Tess and Latonya had finally broken down and headed into the place with her earlier that night.

  “No one will bother us up there. Like I said, there’s plenty of room.” His hand was still extended toward her. “And no one else will see you dance, just me.”

  Well, okay, that sounded good so…Tess stood up. She was average height
, currently wearing her flats, and when she stood, she had to tilt her head back to see his incredible eyes. Tall, muscled, sexy—he was checking off everything on her fantasy lover list. Check, check, check. And his voice…

  Wow.

  Tentatively, her fingers reached for his. When she touched his skin, a surge of awareness poured through her. An instant, primal response that she’d never felt before. The surge should have been some sort of warning to her.

  It wasn’t.

  “I’m James. James Smith.”

  “Tess Barrett.”

  He nodded. His gaze slowly drifted over her face. He kept her hand held carefully in his. “Ready to dance?”

  Um, no. “I can’t leave my friends while I head up to VIP land.” That was a loser move.

  Another nod from him. “Of course. I’ll make sure they’re given the best champagne we have in the club and that they are escorted upstairs as well.”

  She heard a little squeal from Marilyn. Marilyn loved her champagne.

  “Though you and I will be in a private room,” he added. “I think it’s better if we’re alone. Like I said, only I’ll be watching you.”

  Her head cocked. “So how do you have all of this magic VIP pull? Are you someone famous?”

  “In certain circles.” For a moment, humor seemed to gleam in his eyes.

  Her eyes narrowed.

  He squeezed her hand. “My club. My rules. I can get anyone into VIP that I want.”

  Oh, wait…his place? Did that make things better…or worse?

  He gave a little wave, and a muscled guy in a black shirt and pants hurried toward their table. “Mason will take care of your friends.” His gaze held hers. “And I’ll take care of you.”

  There sure seemed to be a whole lot of double meaning in his words.

  He turned away, but kept hold of her hand.

  “Bad things,” Latonya threw out.

  James stopped. Stiffened. Glanced back. His gaze slid to Latonya. “I assure you, I have no intention of doing anything bad to your friend.” His stare rose to catch Tess’s once more. “You’re safe with me.”

  Her life was all about safety. One of her rules. But in this instance… “She wasn’t worried. Latonya was telling me to do some bad things.”

  Latonya made a choking sound.

  His lips quirked. “You want to do something bad? I am sure that can be arranged.”

  She swallowed and followed him…followed him through the crowd and up the stairs and down a little corridor before they were secluded in some seriously lush space. Not an office. More like…a private entertainment room? Huge couch. Giant windows that looked out over the club. She could swear the room even smelled expensive.

  “No one can see in. We can look out, but the glass is specially tinted so no one below can look in.” He hit a button on a nearby control panel. The band’s music drifted into the room. “And I can control what we hear, too.”

  She shifted from foot to foot. Now that they were, in fact, alone, he seemed even bigger.

  “How about that dance?”

  She put her hands on his shoulders. The band had slowed down. Had he given some sort of cue to them? Was this all part of some typical seduction plan that James had? Pick a woman, take her upstairs, while the band plays something slow and sensual and James works his magic?

  “How many women have you brought up here?” Tess asked, voice sharp.

  His eyes crinkled a little. She had the feeling he wanted to laugh. “You say what you think, don’t you?”

  “Why would I say anything else? I mean, do you want me to say what other people think?”

  He did laugh then.

  Crap. She’d been literal. She did that sometimes. Marilyn and Latonya helped her work on mistakes like that. It had been a while since she’d screwed up. Not like back in her early med school days.

  “How many?” James seemed to consider her question before he announced, “Zero.”

  Her hands tightened around his shoulders. “Are you being honest with me?”

  His hands slid to curl around her waist. “I’ve brought zero women here. Well, actually, scratch that. I brought you up here. So that’s one.”

  “Why did you bring me up here?”

  He began to sway ever so slowly with her. She moved, too, trying to match her body with his.

  “You wanted privacy. So I gave it to you.” A pause. “I can give you whatever you need.”

  He had no idea what she needed. Unfortunately, neither did she. “You’re a stranger.”

  “No, you know my name. I know yours. We’re on a first name basis. Hardly strangers.”

  He made her want to smile. That didn’t happen often. “Why did you approach me downstairs?”

  He moved a little closer. So close that his body brushed against hers, and she liked it. His crisp, masculine scent surrounded her.

  “Why were you staring at me, Tess?”

  “Because you’re gorgeous.” Something the man obviously knew. “You probably have people staring at you all the time.” She lifted her eyebrows. “You didn’t answer my question.”

  “That’s because I thought the answer was apparent.”

  Not to her.

  “I saw you. I wanted you. So I came to you.”

  Okay. That was… “Is that your usual routine?” They were swaying sensually together. Dancing. And everywhere that she touched him, heat licked at her.

  “I have no usual routine.”

  She leaned a little closer to him. His words were probably a lie, but she liked touching him. She liked the way she felt against him. Warm on the inside, when she hadn’t even realized just how cold she’d been.

  “I want to kiss you.”

  Her breath caught at his low, rough words. “I want that, too.”

  His eyes gleamed down at her. “You don’t play games, do you?”

  “I don’t know how to play them.”

  He blinked, as if she’d caught him off guard.

  “I’m not about lying or seducing or being coy or whatever. I don’t have time for stuff like that.” And if she did have time, she’d probably fail miserably at those endeavors. “So I’m probably saying the wrong things, but that’s who I am.” She pulled in a bracing breath. “I’d like to kiss you, too.”

  His head lowered. Not fast. Slowly. As if he expected her to change her mind. Uh, not happening. Hadn’t he heard her? She wanted his mouth on hers. Truth be told, she was a little foggy on when she’d had her last kiss. Maybe at the hospital Christmas party? Under the mistletoe? But that kiss had been sloppy and quick, and hardly awe-inspiring.

  Was an awe-inspiring kiss too much to ask for?

  His lips brushed over hers. Tenderly. Carefully. A light sampling that made her body hum and want more.

  But it was not awe-inspiring. At least, not yet. Nice, though. He had warm, firm lips, and she liked the way they felt against her and she liked—

  He kissed her again. Only this time, the kiss wasn’t so careful. Her lips parted for him, and his tongue thrust inside. The kiss was deep and slow, and her heart slammed into her ribs because something that had been sleeping inside of her seemed to wake up in a flash. Her short nails dug into his shoulders as he hauled her ever closer. And she’d thought that she was close before. But this was different, like, a thousand times different.

  He lifted her up. She’d figured he would be strong enough to hold her easily. She’d been right. He was. Serious turn on. Tess admired a strong man. Her legs curled around his hips in an instinctual move that Tess would have never thought she’d make with a stranger. She could feel the ridge of his arousal pushing against the front of his jeans and pressing against her, and she lifted her hips, riding his cock in a fast glide.

  He growled, and it was a guttural sound that sent a shiver through her.

  She kept kissing him. Kept loving the way he felt. She didn’t normally react this way. She didn’t get lost in a kiss. Certainly not with a stranger, and he was a stranger, even if
she knew his name.

  James.

  His mouth tore from hers, and he kissed a path down her neck. She choked out a moan that was his name even as her hips rocked against him again.

  Then she realized what she was doing. Oh, crap, am I dry humping him? Her hands curled tightly around his shoulders. “Wait.”

  He stilled. His head lifted. His eyes blazed down at her, and there was no missing the lust that had turned his features savage.

  Oh, God. She was in way, way over her head.

  Slowly, she unhooked her legs…from around his waist! Her feet touched the floor, but he was still holding her waist. His touch scorched her.

  “I-I don’t…this isn’t how I usually act.” She’d stammered. Wonderful. Tess sucked in a breath. “You’re a really, really good kisser.” In fact, she’d describe him as…awe-inspiring.

  He gave her a half-grin, though the lust didn’t fade from his eyes. “So are you, Tess.”

  She liked the way he said her name. All rumbling and growling and hot. She liked a lot of things about him but… “I don’t hook up with strangers for sex.” Lifting her chin, Tess took a few steps back from him.

  His hands fell away as she retreated. She missed his touch. How weird was that? But she did.

  “That’s good to know. I don’t, either.”

  Oh, wait, had she just insulted him? “I didn’t mean—”

  His half-grin became a full grin. “It’s okay.”

  Her gaze darted toward the door. “I should leave.” Like, right then before she did or said anything else horribly embarrassing. She turned on her heel.

  “If you change your mind about sex with a stranger—though I did tell you, we aren’t strangers—I’ll be here.”

  She froze. Had he really said that? Or had she just had one major auditory hallucination? Her head turned, and she peeked suspiciously back at him.

  His smile was gone, and he was watching her with an intense, focused gaze. “I have the feeling that you and I would be incredible together.”

  Oh, my. She had that feeling, too. The feeling that they could burn up the sheets, wreck the bed, and go crazy together. She’d never gone crazy with a lover. But then, she’d never met someone like James before. Someone who made her instantly think…