Alexandra Sokoloff - Goddess of Fate

He remembered the dark tunnel that had opened up to him...

And then what? What happened? The next thing I can remember is being with her. No memory of how, or when, or why...

“We’ll go to the room,” she said suddenly. “You need to lie down.”

“The room?”

“This is a hotel. A lodge, I think you call it.”

Luke raised his eyebrows. She’d gotten a room? That was an interesting development—if it was in any way true. They could be anywhere. She could be taking him anywhere. Anyone at all could be waiting in “the room.”

“You can rest, and I can...” She stopped, looking worried, almost as if she didn’t know how to complete the sentence. Not his problem. He had things to do, people to see.

“I need to call my team,” he told her.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” she said quickly.

He refrained, barely, from asking her just what the hell she had to do with it, and simply reached for his phone. But when he speed-dialed his partner he got nothing, no connection. And nothing when he tried Lieutenant Duncan. He lifted the phone and squinted down on the screen. There were no bars, his phone was completely dead.

“I’ll need to borrow your phone,” he said stiffly.

She looked distressed. “I’m sorry. I don’t have one.”

Right, lady, who doesn’t have a phone?

He was about to insist, search her if he had to—but then he stopped, thinking.

My CI phones about a shipment and I show up and none of the rest of the team is there and I’m shot, nearly killed.

She was looking at him as if she understood the direction his thoughts were heading.

“I got set up,” he said slowly. The realization was like a shot to the gut.

She lifted her hands slightly in...sympathy? Apology? Agreement?

“How do you know all this?” he demanded. “Who are you?”

“We’ll go to the room and I’ll tell you everything. I promise.”

Luke briefly debated getting back into the car and getting the hell away. There was no reason to trust her or think that she wasn’t involved in whatever craziness was going on. But he knew realistically that even if he wrestled her for the keys, he was too injured to get far. He didn’t know what he was getting into, but he was the one with the gun, which meant as long as he could stay conscious, he was in no particular danger.

“All right,” he said roughly, with a firm grip on the Glock. “Let’s go.”

Chapter 3 Contents Cover Excerpt “We’re in the Now, and you’re not dead. But that’s only because you’re in the Now.” Luke could only stare at her. “Right. Well, I’m getting out, now .” But a wave of dizziness stopped him. “It’s all right. I’ll take care of you,” Aurora told him as he rested his forehead against her waist and smelled that honey scent … From the dream … He jerked his head up. “Wait a minute. I dreamed …” “It wasn’t a dream, Luke,” she said. “How do you know my name?” “I’ve known you forever,” Aurora said, and her eyes were luminous with feeling; Luke felt his breath catch at the longing in them. About the Author ALEXANDRA SOKOLOFF is a California native and the daughter of scientist and educator parents, which drove her into musical theater at an early age. At UC Berkeley (a paranormal experience all on its own) she majored in theater. After college, Alex moved to Los Angeles, where she made an interesting living writing novel adaptations, and original suspense and horror scripts, for numerous Hollywood studios. She now lives in Scotland with her Scottish husband. Alex welcomes questions and comments at her website, alexandrasokoloff.com . Title Page Goddess of Fate Alexandra Sokoloff www.millsandboon.co.uk Dedication For Leslie Wainger—a true heroine. 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 Chapter 21 Epilogue Extract Copyright

The hotel was a lodge, par for the course in a national forest, and the room was really a suite—rustic but elegant. Luke kept the Glock trained on the redhead as he looked around: a big bed, lots of polished wood, burl tables, a cozy conversation area of couch and armchairs in front of a fireplace that was already blazing, and big gleaming windows that afforded a breathtaking view of the moon on the cove.

Very nice. If he’d been kidnapped, at least he couldn’t complain about the accommodations. And only one bed...what a shame. They’d have to share.

Oh, no, you don’t , he ordered himself. Where did that even come from? Focus . You need to figure out what’s going on here.

He looked first to the phone on the bed table. As he limped toward it he got a look at the clock above the fireplace: it said 12:16. That couldn’t be right, though; he’d gotten the call at his flat just after eleven, and it was obviously many hours later.

He picked up the phone...but it didn’t seem to be working, either.

Maybe best not to talk to anyone until I figure more out.

He lowered himself to the bed and willed himself not to bleed out. The redhead was watching him anxiously.

“We’re going to start with you,” he said, “and what you have to do with all of this.” He was beginning to think there was something odd about her. For one thing, she must have been the one who had given him back his gun. Why?

“What’s your name?” he demanded.

“Aurora.”

Pretty. “Aurora what?”

She hesitated. “Aurora.”

Right. Well, they’d get back to that. “Okay, Aurora, what are we doing here? Why did you bring me here?”

“Those people were trying to kill you,” she said.

“So you put me in my car and drove me to the Sequoias? How did you even get me out of there?”

She wasn’t paying any attention to what he was saying at all, it seemed; instead, she was staring at his legs. Or his crotch. Which may have been flattering under different circumstances, but not at the moment.

“I need to take a look at those wounds,” she said.

And somehow she was at his side, gently helping him stand and leading him into the bathroom.

She pushed him gently back against the sink and put her hands on the bottom of his T-shirt to lift it over his head and her fingers touched the flat, hard plane of his stomach. Despite his condition, Luke felt a surge of desire that knocked his breath out of him. She froze and stood with her hands on his skin and he could feel her shaking. In the light she was stunningly beautiful—that creamy skin and sky-blue eyes and a mouth as full and kissable as any man could ever want. And she was completely... soft was the only word he could think of. There was nothing hard or cynical or worldly or guileful about her; she was as fresh and sweet as a rose.

She was looking into his face, and there were spots of color flaming in her cheeks; she was clearly and beautifully as turned on as he was.

Finally she said breathlessly, “I have to...make sure you’re all right.” And she pulled his shirt off.

His sudden nakedness made the heat between them even more intense.

Who is this woman? Luke thought...and then he caught sight of his biceps in the mirror.

There was a large and expert gauze bandage taped to his arm. Blood had oozed through the gauze, but nothing anywhere near lethal.

What the...?

She was suddenly focused on the wound, too, and gently loosened the gauze to look. He was stunned to see that the ripped flesh had been neatly sewn together, with tiny, precise stitches, as expertly as a combat medic would have done.