AlTonya Washington - Every Chance I Get

“Is it?”

Misha knew Talib was right behind her without needing to look back and prove it to herself.

“Is it, Misha?” The back of his hand trailed the curve of her spine. His finger curled into the belt around her robe in case she had any thoughts of moving away.

Talib spun Misha around gracefully and placed his mouth on hers. Her tongue thrust eagerly against his, giving just as much fire as he gave. She was so absorbed in the kiss that she hardly noticed him lifting her up against his body and carrying her in the direction of the bedroom.

Finding her nude beneath the robe, Talib took full advantage. He kissed his way down Misha’s neck and up again, almost painfully aroused by the supple curves on her slender body. Her bottom was full and molded perfectly to his palms when he cupped them. Her breasts were firm, flawlessly rounded mounds that beckoned his lips, teeth and tongue.

Having had his fill of kissing for the moment, he ventured lower.

wears many titles. Aside from Mom, her favorite is romance author. Crafting stories and characters that are sexy and engaging with a fair amount of mystery really keeps her busy. When AlTonya’s not writing, she works as a library assistant and as social secretary to an active son—a job that demands the bulk of her time.

www.millsandboon.co.uk

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Dear Reader,

This is the book so many of you have been asking for. Since his appearance in Hudson’s Crossing, many of you have been captivated by my sexy Brit, Talib Mason. The history between him and our heroine, Misha Bales, has simmered in a sea of unrest for far too long. It’s time for their attraction to be confronted and conquered.

Readers have asked why I chose to make Talib British, and plenty of others have told me just how happy they are about it. It was actually quite exciting to craft another non-American hero, which I’ve done before in other stories. And like before, I’ve had the best time with everything, from the speech patterns and language to the more alluring elements that lurk seductively below the surface of his British persona.

Let’s find out if Misha can hold her own against a man as delectable as Talib.

Be sure to let me know what you think. Email me at altonya@lovealtonya.com and visit my website, www.lovealtonya.com.

Best,

AlTonya

To the readers who wanted more Talib. Here he is!

To the Romance Slam Jam organizers and participants, the book clubs and the LoveAlTonya webgroup.

You all have been such a phenomenal force in my career in so many ways. I wish you continued success in all your individual endeavors.

I feel honored and blessed by your support.

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Epilogue

August 2005

New York

Talib Mason planned on finding a ticket plastered to his windshield by the time he returned to the parking lot. He didn’t give a damn, of course. So what if he parked on the curb and dangerously close to a fire hydrant? He’d already done well enough to reach his destination without wrecking the car along the way.

He’d spent the better part of the day cursing himself for letting the argument with Misha get so far out of hand. He slammed the elevator button with his fist. To accuse her had been unfair. That story could have only been leaked by someone with inside knowledge. But he had accused her, and he’d been at his cruelest while he’d done it. The things he’d said…

It felt like his heart was about to crush his ribs. It’d been pounding viciously ever since he’d spoken with her assistant.

At that time of night, the corridors of St. Joseph’s Hospital were almost completely silent. The third-shift nurses were either making rounds or engaged in light conversation while gathered around their station. Conversation ceased, though, when the four women at the nurses’ station caught sight of the man who rushed from the elevator and bounded toward them. The fact that he appeared as provocative as sin did nothing to mask the outrage darkening his expression.

“Misha Bales.” Added to his dark expression was the abrupt tone in his voice. The tone was unavoidable, given his fear that he was about to lose her. The usually seductive level of his British-laced brogue came across as harsh and dangerous.

Given the circumstances, the nurses were hesitant to release any information. They exchanged uncertain glances. This did nothing to soothe Talib’s temper, already teetering close to the edge of explosion. Silently he warred with himself, gripping the edge of the counter as he bowed his head. Security was but a button’s push away as he was sure the nurses were well aware. Thankfully, the world wasn’t completely against him.

“Talib? Talib, is that you?”

He heard his name and saw Dr. Lettia Breene approaching the station.

The lovely full-figured obstetrician wore a concerned frown as she could all but feel the tension in the air. “I hope you’re here for a checkup.” She took note of his haggard appearance, then asked the nurses, “What’s going on?”

Talib responded first. “Misha’s here, Lett.”

“Misha?” Lettia turned back toward the nurses.

RN Connie Wesley checked a book on the desk and nodded. “Car accident, Dr. B.” She looked toward her colleagues who were all nodding.

“It was about four hours ago,” Nurse Adrian White added and passed Lett the report on Misha. “The EMTs said she had to be pried out of the car.”

“Jesus,” Talib moaned.

Lett set aside the chart and put a hand on his shoulder. “What room is she in?”

Minutes later, Talib was being directed toward the unit where Misha was being treated. The six-foot-plus former linebacker had to lean on the doctor when he saw Misha bandaged and resting in the dim room.

“God,” Lettia whispered. She was just as devastated as Talib was, shaking her head slowly in disbelief.

“It’s my fault.” Emotion had rendered Talib’s voice raw.

“Shh…” Lettia rubbed his back. “Honey, blaming yourself won’t do either of you any good.”

“It’s my fault.”

“Talib—”

“Don’t tell her I was here.”

“But, Talib, she’ll—”

“Swear it, Lett.”

“Honey, why?”

“Just swear it, Lettia.”

She nodded, even as she searched his face in wonder. “All right,” she said when he took her shoulders.

Satisfied, he turned back to Misha. She was already uncommonly small and the bed she occupied looked gargantuan with her in the middle of it.