Crash Into My Heart Read online

  Crash Into My Heart

  When Janice’s car spins off the road, leaving her shaken and stranded, a dark stranger in an expensive sports car rescues her from the encroaching night.

  Will he also rescue her frozen heart?

  Title Page

  CRASH INTO MY HEART

  SELENE GRACE SILVER

  This is a work of fiction. All the characters, organizations and events portrayed are products of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, companies, and locales is purely coincidental.

  This book contains explicit sex. It is intended for mature audiences.

  Copyright © October 2012 by Selene Grace Silver

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or distributed in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author except for the use of brief quotations in articles or reviews. Please do not plagiarize or pirate the contents of this book. The author can be reached through her website, selenegracesilver.com or by email at [email protected].

  Dedication

  FOR MY MOTHER, NITA JEAN

  Acknowledgements

  Thanks to Alan for all his help in formatting this digital book, creating the cover design and, most important of all, providing ongoing emotional support during its development. Special thanks to Barb, Nancy and Erin for reading the story in draft form and providing insightful feedback.

  Contents

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Acknowledgements

  Table of Contents

  CRASH INTO MY HEART

  Author Biography

  Works Published

  CRASH INTO MY HEART

  Adrian ground his teeth, irritated he’d had to cancel his weekend plans on his boat to rush up to the high desert to fix problems his VP should have handled. On top of that annoyance, the 405 had been a parking lot. Now he was stuck driving below the speed limit on a winding road, held up behind some old biddy in a Volvo. He’d hoped to be on his way back to LA by now. He noted the position of the sun slipping down beyond the hills, casting the canyon into shadowed dips and curves.

  “Finally!” he muttered as the road straightened. He floored his Alpha Romeo 8C coupe to pass the clueless driver. He slowed briefly to throw her a dark look for failing to pull over during several opportunities in the past five miles. He did a double take as he realized the woman didn’t have gray hair as he’d thought; she had silvery blonde hair. She turned to scowl back at him. And huge, smoky blue eyes fogged the world as he knew it. His anger evaporated, replaced by something quite different.

  He crested the next hill, glancing back through his rear view mirror.

  All he saw was dust. What the hell? There’d been no turn off, and he hadn’t been driving fast enough to lose her—yet.

  The image of that unexpected dust kept intruding on his efforts to think instead about what he needed to say to his VP. Had she crashed? He hadn’t come anywhere close to running her off road, he thought, mulishly. He eased off the gas. He shifted, letting the car slow to a crawl. The car whined like an unhappy cat. No Volvo appeared behind him.

  Damn! His work obligations warred with his conscience. He should see his VP tonight. It couldn’t wait. Well, it could wait. The sun had dropped behind the hills leaving the canyon awash in grey shadows. It would be dark soon. He checked his phone. No signal. What would his mother say?

  He whipped around, squealing his car’s tires.

  ***

  Okay. The important thing was that she was alive, Janice told herself shakily as she struggled from behind the inflated airbag. She swung open the driver’s door, which wedged itself into the dirt, giving her a too narrow escape route. She gave the door a tug back to loosen it. It didn’t budge. Good thing she was skinny. She slid out sideways, feeling stunned, wiping blood from what she hoped was a simple nosebleed. She tentatively tapped her nose. While it hurt like a son of a bitch, it seemed unbroken.

  When her front passenger tire blew, she’d been cast off the road into the ditch. It’d taken all her strength to keep the car from rolling. She’d survived a bumpy ride through the shrubby, slanted terrain, landing abruptly on a giant rock. She sent a prayer up to the universe, grateful the boys were already on a plane headed to Denver.

  She stared at her totaled car. Her beautiful car. The one luxury she allowed herself. Smashed. She reached back into the car and pulled out her purse, sitting on the seat as though nothing had happened. She dug out her cell phone. No signal. She looked up and down the road and saw no one. Certainly not that obnoxious, if totally gorgeous, driver of the James Bond car that had ridden her ass the last five miles. Asshole.

  The road was desolate. Cutting through the back canyons between Los Angeles and the high desert, the route was traveled predominantly by locals. At this late hour on a Friday evening, it might be another hour before anyone passed.

  If she walked to the top of the pass, she might get a signal. She surveyed her outfit. The light strapless sundress and her high-heeled sandals were perfect for lunch with the girls, rotten for hiking a canyon road. She crawled back into the car and unearthed a sweater from under the boys’ discarded backpack, and slipped into it.

  Just as she was sliding out of the car again, she heard the sound of a large engine purring towards her. She looked up at the road and saw the top of the James Bond car. He should have been long gone by now. She panicked. A woman, alone, stranded on an empty road. Crap. The car stopped, went silent. Settling back into her driver’s seat, she tugged at the door to close and lock it. It wouldn’t move. She glanced up.

  The man stood above her on the edge of the road—broad-shouldered, dressed in a white business shirt and dark trousers. She couldn’t make out his shadowed face, but he looked a bit…swarthy. He had his hands fisted on his hips. He looked imposing.

  “Miss? You all right?”

  He sounded irritated. Well! Why’d he bother to stop?

  “I’m fine,” Janice called up tensely. “You go on now.”

  “You don’t look fine.”

  “I am, really.” She tugged frantically on her door. “I’ve got everything under control.”

  It sounded like he said “the hell you do” and then he was climbing down the embankment towards her. Her heart raced and she struggled to breathe. She wrestled with the stuck door in earnest.

  The man reached her car in a few strides.

  “Let me help you get that open.”

  “No, I’m fine.” She shooed at him with a wave of her hand. “Go away.”

  Janice tried to sound calm, but she was sure he heard the panic in her voice. She sounded like a victim instead of a confident woman with everything under control. She hated to be out of control.

  Ignoring her request to go away, he caught hold of the open edge of the door, yanked it up and outward, rocking the car. The door moved another two inches.

  “There,” he said. “That should be enough.”

  Janice stared up at him. He didn’t seem like a serial rapist murderer. But neither had Ted Bundy, had he? Up close, even in the encroaching shadows, the man was remarkably handsome. He held out his hand to her. She studied it with suspicion.

  ***

  She’s in shock, Adrian thought. She’s dazed. He saw the evidence of the blown tire. He was impressed. She’d kept the vehicle upright, on a relatively straight path until she hit that boulder. Unfortunately, the car was totaled.

  He looked down at her through the driver’s door. She was slender, elegant in a striped pale yellow summer dress and white sweater. Add a string of pearls and she was a blonde version of a Jackie Kennedy-type. She wore
her pale, wavy hair up in a casual French twist. Fine strands escaped to frame a finely-boned face with those blue eyes that had stunned him. Eyes that were looking at him like he was the big, bad wolf instead of her knight-in-shining armor.

  “I won’t hurt you.” He stepped back to appear less threatening.

  She tugged at the door, realized it wasn’t moving and sighed.

  “I’ll get out by myself,” she said, her voice laced with irritation and a little fear. “I said I’m fine.”

  “You’re bleeding.” He gestured to blood smeared on her sweater.

  She corrected him. “My nose was bleeding.”

  Feisty thing. He was tempted to just get back in his car and drive away to teach her a lesson. He shook his head silently. The hand she’d waved at him was bare. She was single. He might be a jerk sometimes, but he’d never leave a woman—without protection—by a road at night. He reined in his temper and forced a smile.

  “Good. I’m sure the EMTs will confirm you’re in perfect health.”

  “You called 911?”

  “Unfortunately, no. No signal. We’ll have to drive out of the canyon to locate one.”

  “We?”

  Was she ever getting out of the damn car? Adrian stood knee deep in shrub, with stinging nettles by the feel of it. His suit slacks would be snagged to ruins. Next thing, a rattlesnake would pop up to sink its teeth into him.

  “What’s your name?” he asked.

  “Why?”

  “I’m Adrian Margolis. When I saw your car disappear off the road, I thought I’d be a good citizen and come back to help. You’re saying that you don’t want help?”

  She chewed the bottom of her lip.

  “All right.” She acquiesced grudgingly and moved to climb up out of the car. As she stepped out, she stumbled slightly in her heels. Adrian instinctively leaned forward. He caught her, pulling her upright. She jerked in surprise. In her efforts to get away, she ended up doing the reverse, falling into his chest. His arms encircled her.

  Time froze.

  Her hair smelled like jasmine. Her frame was so slight he thought he could pick her up with one arm. Despite her heels, her head barely reached his chin. He bent, lifted, tipped her over his shoulder and carried her out of the ditch. Like she was his spoils of war.

  He was already to the road before she realized his hand was cupping her bare thigh under her full skirt. She struggled against him.

  “Put me down!”

  He sighed, reluctantly releasing her. As she slid down, he let his hand slide up her backside, over the curves of her bottom. Oops! He jerked his hand away. She was wearing G-string panties. He was pretty sure wasn’t going to like his hand on her bare bum. Not yet, anyway.

  ***

  Janice felt breathless. The guy was strong. He’d carried her like she weighed nothing more than a piece of Styrofoam. Her skin burned as his hand slid up her thigh. Tingles fluttered across her whole body when he’d briefly cupped her bottom. She stepped back abruptly, pushing him away. His hands left her and in its place a chill settled over her. A sense of emptiness?

  “Were you just copping a feel?!” She tried not to shrill.

  He crooked a slanted grin at her. There was the promise of mischief in that look.

  “Not initially.”

  “Ohh…you’re not very practiced at being a good citizen.”

  “And you’re not very grateful.”

  Then he smiled wickedly at her and her heart stopped.

  “Consider that balancing our accounts.”

  “Coming onto a woman who has just survived a serious car accident is not being especially conscientious.”

  “You’ve got a sharp tongue, for someone in the need of help.”

  “You are a...a…a pig.”

  “What?”

  “Practically molesting my body. What else would you call your behavior?”

  Adrian’s face darkened slightly. He unlocked his car doors with his key fob and opened the passenger door.

  “Get in.”

  “No.”

  “Get in or I’m leaving you here to fend for yourself.”

  “If you think I’m getting into a car with a jerk…”

  A sound interrupted her. Two shaggy-bearded, leather-garbed men on low-slung Harleys crested the hill towards them. The men slowed as they approached, staring at the sleek sports car and the battered sedan in the ditch.

  Adrian scowled at her.

  “Maybe you’d prefer those two men’s assistance.”

  Janice glared defiantly back.

  “Ooof!” Did he have to be so, so, so…rude?

  She set her jaw and stepped into the car. Adrian, after checking that she was tucked in, slammed the door shut with more force than necessary.

  “Everything okay, man?” One of the bikers called out as they rolled to a stop.

  Janice held her breath. Adrian was a big, strong guy. He could handle the situation. At least she hoped so.

  “We’re fine. My wife’s car blew a tire.”

  His wife? That’d be the day. As Adrian spoke, he moved confidently around the car to the driver’s side and opened his door.

  The two bikers nodded agreeably. They obviously looked scarier than they were.

  “Glad you folks are all right.” They revved their bikes and took off, disappearing around the curve at the bottom of the hill.

  Adrian slid his large body down into the tight-fitting driver’s seat with grace and ease. He pulled his door shut and started up the car.

  “Put on your seatbelt, koulka. This machine flies.”

  Koulka? Janice struggled to locate the shoulder harness. After seconds of clumsy effort, Adrian reached across and pulled out the restraint, snapping her in. He straightened the twisted strap, running his hand lightly across her chest.

  He grinned at her outraged expression.

  “Hang on.”

  Janice was sure the man was trying to impress her with the power of something, as he launched his vehicle forward. They crested the hill before she’d taken a breath. She attempted nonchalance, but he chuckled. He’d seen the way she clutched the edge of her seat. Clearly, she’d survived one accident only to die in the next. After several miles, he slowed to a more leisurely speed.

  “Where do you live?”

  “Where are you headed?”

  “Up past the valley.”

  Janice thought for a moment. They would pass several businesses on the route through town that connected with the freeway. She could have him drop her at the first station. She’d have cell reception there and could call for a tow truck, and someone to pick her up. Or she could simply have him drop her at home, just minutes from the freeway. In choosing the second option, she wouldn’t have to find anyone to pick her up, but he would know her address.

  It was easier to have him take her home. Not that it meant anything if he did. He was out of her league. It’s not like he’d be interested in a public school history teacher.

  Her voice was stiff. “Would you mind dropping me off at my house?”

  “Guide me there, koulka. I’ll get you home safe.”

  ***

  Adrian couldn’t remember the last time he’d had this much fun. What a prickly, presumptuous Miss Priss. A damned fine-looking one, but a priss nonetheless. She was so easy to rile up. He didn’t even have to try.

  He frowned. That was probably not a good thing. Nevertheless, his derailed weekend suddenly looked much more interesting with the tasty little treat currently buckled into his car.

  “Maybe you’d tell me your name now.”

  “My name is irrelevant.”

  Adrian shook his head, puzzled. Usually women fell all over themselves to be friendly.

  “That makes no logical sense.”

  “I don’t need to make sense. I’ve just been in a serious car accident.”

  Adrian looked her over, deliberately lingering on her bare thighs. She noticed and tucked her skirt down. He looked back at the road.

>   “You seem relatively uninjured.”

  Adrian wondered if she might be more hurt than she appeared.

  “My car is totaled. I’m going to have black eyes for weeks…”

  “Do you think you’re in shock? Maybe I should take you to the hospital?”

  “No. Take this next turn left, please.”

  Adrian signaled and moved left.

  “I meant the other way.”

  “No problem. My mother and sister can’t distinguish right from left either,” he told her, riling her up a little more.

  Her voice was predictably peevish. “I know the difference.”

  “Yeah, just not which word goes with which direction.”

  “I was just—“

  Adrian finished her sentence, “—in an accident. Yes, I am aware of that since I’m the one who rescued you.”

  “You didn’t rescue me. I rescued myself.”

  “Who found you stranded in your car?”

  “You’re giving me a lift in the direction you were already traveling. Hardly a rescue effort.”

  The woman obviously liked arguing. He looked away from the road to study her again. Her up-do displayed her neck and ears. Her ears were perfect. Dainty. He thought about licking that graceful curve, nibbling on her bare ear lobe. She wore almost no make-up. She was natural-looking. Fresh scrubbed.

  “Watch the road!”

  Adrian lazily swung his gaze back to the empty, straight road ahead of them.

  “What’s wrong,” he asked.

  “You were about to cross the line.”

  “I’m completely in my lane.”

  “Well, you were about to stray somewhere,” she mumbled.

  He chuckled.

  “So. You do have a sense of humor.”