THIS CONTEST IS NOW CLOSED.
Uncovering the truth is her specialty
As a forensic accountant, Mia Sauter could usually tell when people had something to hide. She made her living exposing secrets while concealing her own. Then, in Vegas, she met a clever, ruthless man who called himself Addison Foster. One year later, she’s still haunted by his betrayal.
He’s a natural born liar
The truth of him had long ago been buried. Foster was only one name of many; he’d been so many men, he’d lost count. Reinvented as Thomas Strong and hell-bent on revenge, his mission is about to be compromised by the one woman capable of exposing him…
Reunited, they confront the explosive chemistry still crackling between them. But their chance meeting will have consequences, for a ruthless madman has his own deadly agenda. The question is—if they survive the fallout, will he choose love over vengeance?
Want a chance to win the first two books in this series? Answer the following question. Don’t forget to stop back tomorrow to see if you’ve won.
Truth. Lies. Forgiveness. Are you very good at forgiving people or do you hold a grudge?
Excerpt from SKIN TIGHT, by Ava Gray
“Does that mean it’s over?”
If only he didn’t have a face like a broken plaster saint, rough and chipped but full of heart-breaking beauty. She could imagine him standing watch over a chapel by nights, all icy marble and immovable lines. Only the fierce argent of his eyes gave lie to the indifference of his pose, propped against her car.
“Yes.” Though she tried to make her voice sound firm and certain, she noticed a little waver in the middle of the word.
Unfortunately, so did he. “I promised you a ride in my G37.”
“Technically, you didn’t. You teased me with the prospect of one, as I recall.”
He studied her with nerve-wracking intensity. “How ungallant of me. Surely you must let me make it up to you?”
She’d never excelled at mating games. They made her feel stupid, a rare sensation, to be sure. In her professional life, Mia preferred facts and figures. In her personal life, she took her romance in the form of tragic poetry, where she could let someone else’s pain wash over her without risking her own heart. One such disaster had been enough.
“What do you want?” she burst out, losing patience with him.
He stilled, a sleek silhouette in the moonlight that turned his eyes to quicksilver. Mia had the feeling he would slip as readily through her hands, should she try to hold him. “Do you really want me to answer that?”
She took a deep, steadying breath. “Yes.”
“I want to take you home and strip you naked,” he said deliberately. “I want to tie you down, so you can’t get away and then I want to—”
“Enough,” she whispered, sick. “If you’re just going to make fun of me, forget it.”
His brows arched. “You don’t believe me?”
“I’m not the sort of woman who inspires sexual obsession.”
“And I’m not the sort of man who develops them,” he murmured. “But you have me dreaming about the taste of your skin nonetheless.”
She managed a laugh. “God, you’re such a liar. Just stop already. Whatever you want, you’re not seducing it out of me.”
He stepped into her space then. His hands framed her hips, drawing her up against him in a movement more intimate than a kiss. At first she felt only the warmth of him, and then the world flickered. It was as if he skimmed her few romantic entanglements and plucked a thread at random. For a few seconds, he was Mark Rigby, her college sweetheart, and deliciously aroused, eager as he’d been only in the early days of their relationship.
But this was too bittersweet a fantasy to hold her—the reality of Mark’s abandonment was too indelible for her to dive into a dream where he stayed. Once, she’d thought they were meant for each other. She’d scrawled their names in endless loops, believing the alliteration a sign. But his words still echoed in her head: Mia, I’m sorry. You’re just… I don’t know. You think too much. You have no spontaneity. When I look at you, I see our future scheduled to the last second and it scares the shit out of me. I like you, but you take away the magic. I need someone who doesn’t need to be in control all the time.
Someone like Valerie.
It wasn’t Mark’s fault. The lack lay in her. He was happily married with three kids, and a mortgage. He could commit, perfectly capable of loving someone. Just not her.
The truth could never been changed, no matter what weird ability this man carried. Since she knew what to do now, Mia thought her way past the illusion. She broke it carefully into pieces and cast it away. Within a few heartbeats, she saw his real face again and felt his arousal. That much was true, at least.
She saw the instant he realized. Mia gazed squarely into his eyes, her gaze roving over his features. I see you. She didn’t say it aloud, but she might as well have. A shudder worked through him. He skimmed his hands up to the indent of her waist, where his fingers splayed wide. Mia let him tilt her body, pressing her back against the car door.
“When I touch you, I stop caring about anything else. There’s only you, looking up at me. Don’t dismiss that. Don’t take it from me because… it’s never happened before. It can go no further, or everything is lost, but just for this moment, let me pretend it can.”
“I never liked playing make-believe,” she said unsteadily, fighting the urge to rock against him. “It’s better to accept things as they are.”
Mia imagined the picture they presented to anyone glancing out the window: his body pinning her against the car, and hers, yielding. The idea of anyone witnessing this moment sent a rush of furtive desire cascading through her veins. Tiny pinpricks of heat gathered at the lee of her legs, urging her to move.
“Who did this to you?” he whispered tenderly. “What made you afraid of dreams?”
Life, she wanted to say, but the answer sounded too sad to speak aloud. It seemed too close to self-pity; she loathed how easily he found her vulnerabilities. She stared up at him, sad and shaken, more naked than if he had stripped her and tied her to his bed.
Somehow he read the truth in her face, and his mouth curved into a melancholy smile. “No wonder my curse cannot keep you. I should take you home with me, for who could match a man without a heart better than the woman who cannot dream?”