Wild Card by Lora Leigh Read Free Book Online Page A

center, lips
    that were sensual but just a tad thin. A dark, short black beard covered his face, closely cropped
    and giving him a dangerous appearance. Long black hair was pulled back from his face and
    secured at his nape.
    A shiver raced over her skin, a primal warning of danger, as she stared at him. He was lean and
    tall, but she bet the muscles beneath that black leather jacket, T-shirt, jeans, and riding chaps
    were like steel. Heavy boots covered big feet, and he stood staring her from beneath thick, too
    thick, silky black lashes.
    This man was a predator. It was her first thought. Long, lean, and dangerous, the kind of man
    Sabella had learned to steer well clear of after her husband's death. Once bitten, twice shy. She
    had learned her lesson about that air of danger, and she had no desire to revisit it.
    He leaned casually against the desk, his palms flat on the surface as he watched her with
    predatory intent. For a moment, just a moment, she went back in time, to that day she had first
    pulled into the lot, her car overheating, her nerves frazzled because she was late for a job
    interview. It was hot, she was sweating in the late-summer Texas sun, cursing her move from
    Georgia and the Texas heat that seemed to take forever to get used to.
    And standing in just mat position had been Nathan Mal, the owner, and later her husband. His
    eyes had raked over her slowly, a smile tilting his sexy lips as his eyes, Irish eyes, brilliant,
    seductive, stole her heart.
    She felt her mouth go painfully dry. Her hands were shaking, her stomach cramping, as she
    stared back at the stranger. She didn't know this man. she didn't want to know this man. but for
    a moment, just a moment, she glimpsed the past with him. A bittersweet, painful knowledge of
    love and loss and everything fate had denied her.
    "There are no openings. Please leave."
    Okay, so that was really rude, but she was really busy too. And she didn't need the headache
    she knew would come with this man.
    "Rory assured me there was an opening for a mechanic."
    Oh God, that voice.
    His voice was deep, raspy, almost guttural. It raked over her nerve endings and sent an edge of
    dark response. Damn, damn, damn. She didn't need this. She didn't need her body awakening
    now after so many years in a deep freeze. She sure as hell didn't need it awakening for a man
    more dangerous and likely a hell of a lot harder than any other man she had ever known.
    His voice was cool and filled with purpose, but the undercurrents were dark, hungry. She had
    never heard that in her husband's voice, had never seen it in his eyes.
    She turned back slowly, forcing herself to stare at his chin, the short clipped beard and
    mustache blurring his features. Were those scars?
    No, she didn't want to know. She didn't care.
    "Rory isn't here." She had to force herself to speak, nearly wincing at the raw sound of her
    voice. "And he doesn't run the place. I do. There are no openings."
    He shifted. As though fascinated, Sabella glanced down, seeing the powerful lean thighs
    covered in faded denim and leather, the hard abs beneath the thin cotton shirt he wore. Boots
    covered big feet, a sturdy base for at least six feet four inches of hard male.
    As her gaze moved back to his face, she watched as his eyes moved to the wide windows that
    looked out on the gas bays and parking lot. Several cars sat deserted beneath the hot, midday
    sun, awaiting attention. The gas pumps were empty, the blacktopped lot cracked and sporting
    several lumps of hearty grass. Yeah, so the place wasn't looking so good, she thought, pushing
    back her frustration, her pain. But she was doing her best. And it looked a hell of a lot better
    than it had three years ago when she had dragged herself out of her grief enough to realize what
    she was losing.
    "You're doing a good job here, but if you want to survive, you need someone willing to do the
    job right, and to get the best out of the men working under you." His gaze swung