Jane Mary Harrison could not believe she had just yelled at a complete stranger. She’d never been that rude in her entire life. But then, she’d never been in a big city either. Or in a bar. Or done tequila shots. Oh, the difference a day makes.

      And what a day she’d had. She’d been in New York City only one day, and in that time, she’d lost the job she’d just gotten, which in turn caused her to lose the apartment she had lined up. When she was leaving the realtor’s office, some man had stolen her purse, and she’d had to spend nearly six hours in a police station with all sorts of frightening people, waiting to place a report with a very uninterested officer. If she was going to start doing tequila shots, this seemed like the time.

      Today was supposed to be the beginning of her new, adventuresome and fun life. So far, it had been long on adventure, and very, very short on fun.

      But she was determined to have a little fun tonight. It was Christmas Eve, for heavens sake. And, thankfully, she’d had the foresight to put traveler’s checks in her suitcase, so she wasn’t destitute—yet.

      She looked at the one full and three empty shot glasses in front of her. Was she going to have to spend her precious money on four shots? Three of which she didn’t order.

      She sighed. Ah, well. At least Joey had been nice—the nicest person she’d met so far in the Big Apple. She glanced at him, leaning over the pool table, lining up a shot. He was sort of cute, too. And he’d flirted with her—at least, she thought he’d flirted.

      Her eyes darted briefly to the man sitting beside her. He wasn’t flirting with her. In fact, he’d done nothing but cast her cool looks since she entered the bar. And she would never describe him as cute. She’d be willing to bet that cute wasn’t even used to describe him as a child. No, he was stunningly, dauntingly beautiful. She couldn’t recall ever seeing anyone that—perfect.

      He had long hair that just brushed his broad shoulders. She’d never been that crazy about long hair, but on this man, it looked amazing. Glossy and thick in shades of sable threaded with burnished gold.

      In profile, she could see the cut of his jawline, the wide, sculpted shape of his lips and slight arrogant flare of his nose. But it had been his peculiar eyes like whiskey in flickering firelight that had taken her breath away. They were so beautiful, so intense—almost predatory.

      He was gorgeous.

      She cast him another furtive look. In his black turtleneck sweater and black trousers, he didn’t seem to fit in here any more than she did, although not for the same reasons. He looked too affluent for a place like this. Too cultured. But under all that beauty and urbaneness, she still sensed something dangerous about him—that feral quality that lurked in his strange eyes.

      She snorted quietly. The stress of today must be addling her mind. She was sure the only thing this man would be dangerous to was the female heart. With those looks, he was the definition of a heartbreaker.

      She regarded the full shot glass in front of her. Her throat still burned, but she was starting to feel a nice, soothing heat in her limbs. Who would think such a small amount of that stuff could make her feel so much more relaxed. And after the day she’d had, she needed to relax.

      She reached for the salt shaker.

      The third shot went down so smoothly, she grinned with pride. For a nondrinker, she was a pro.

      She lined the glasses up in front of her and tried to decide what to do next. She didn’t want to go back to her hotel. But she didn’t exactly feel comfortable here.

      Plus, she kept having this uncontrollable urge to look at the man beside her. She shifted on her stool, peeking at him quickly. Maybe she should apologize to him.

      “Oh, baby”—Joey suddenly reappeared at her side, startling her—“you drank my shot.”

      She looked at the empty glasses guiltily. “I did. I’m sorry.”

      “Well, I guess we just have to order another round.”

      “Don’t you think you’ve had enough?” a deep, husky voice said from beside her.

      She blinked up at the beautiful stranger. He leaned toward her, those peculiar eyes burning into hers.

      “Why don’t you mind your own business, buddy,” Joey said, irritated. Then his voice became soft, cajoling, as he asked her, “You aren’t going to let this jerk ruin our fun, are you, baby?”

      Jane tore her gaze from the beautiful stranger to look at Joey. “No,” she said, although she knew her response sounded more than a little unsure.

      Suddenly loud music began to play, and Jane noticed a blond woman adding money to a jukebox in the corner. Between the two men looming over her, the sudden thumping beat of the music and the alcohol coursing through her, her head began to spin.

      “Can I get two tequilas down here,” Joey called to the bartender.

      Jane stood, her legs unstable. The beautiful stranger caught her arm and steadied her. His hand was strong and felt good, even through her blazer. Her head swam.

      “Are you okay?” he asked.

      She nodded, taking a deep breath. “I think I just need a little fresh air.”

      He started to stand, when Joey caught her other arm. “Baby, let me take you outside.”

      Jane looked at the beautiful stranger. His hand still held her arm, his strength clear even in the gentle hold. His eyes blazed with something she couldn’t quite read, but she did know that she needed to get away from his touch. It was doing crazy things to her insides.

      She tugged her arm free from him and allowed Joey to lead her to the door.

      Right before she stepped outside, she glanced over her shoulder. The beautiful stranger watched her with those predatory eyes.

      Chapter 2

      The chill of the winter air on her face and in her lungs immediately made Jane feel less light-headed. She closed her eyes and lifted her head toward the sky. After another couple deep breaths, she felt almost normal.

      “That better?” Joey asked, standing close to her.

      She opened her eyes and smiled at him gratefully. “Yes. I don’t usually drink.”

      He left her side and peered down the alley that ran along the side of the bar. “There’s some stairs down this way. Why don’t we sit for a few?”

      Jane wandered over to him, following his gaze. The alley was a long, dark tunnel except for one dim light-bulb in the center illuminating a set of concrete stairs. Trash cans stood beside the stairs, open, spilling over with garbage.

      “I think maybe I should just head back to my hotel,” she decided.

      “Hotel?”

      She nodded. “Yes, just got here yesterday afternoon.”

      He gave her a disbelieving look. “That’s crazy. I just got here yesterday, too. I used to live