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eBook Category: Erotica
eBook Description: After tumbling into an ill-timed panic attack, Beth Connors misses her only chance at a bank loan for her struggling country cafe. The place has tons of character and just as many flaws, but Beth musters up her moxie, determined to make it on her own without financial aid from her prominent family. Just her luck that the handsome man picking her up off a Toronto sidewalk is a handyman for hire. But it's what she doesn't know that might turn her world upside down ... again. Rating: Contains explicit sex and adult language.

eBook Publisher: New Concepts Publishing, Published: 2005
Fictionwise Release Date: April 2006

65 Reader Ratings: Great Good OK Poor

Available eBook Formats [MultiFormat - What's this?]: Adobe Acrobat (PDF) [1.1 MB], eReader (PDB) [227 KB], Palm Doc (PDB) [219 KB], Rocket/REB1100 (RB) [193 KB], Microsoft Reader (LIT) [182 KB] - PocketPC 1.0+ Compatible, Franklin eBookMan (FUB) [245 KB], hiebook (KML) [489 KB], Sony Reader (LRF) [265 KB], iSilo (PDB) [179 KB], Mobipocket (PRC) [225 KB], Kindle Compatible (MOBI) [259 KB], OEBFF Format (IMP) [283 KB]
Words: 65736
Reading time: 187-262 min.
Microsoft Reader (LIT) Format: Printing DISABLED, Read-Aloud ENABLED
Adobe Acrobat (PDF) Format:  Printing DISABLED, Read-Aloud ENABLED
All Other formats: Printing DISABLED, Read-aloud DISABLED
ISBN: 1-58608-627-8

Why now? Beth thought as she desperately groped for the wall. She hadn't had one of her panic attacks since....

Beth clutched the cool brick desperately, hoping her delicate fingers could bite into the rough surface and support her frame. "One," she began counting. "Two." She exhaled a breath too short. "Three." Now she was breathing rapidly. Damn the counting--it never worked anyway. Only the pink tablets took the edge off, but her stubbornness--or maybe stupidity was a more apt term--prevented her from popping the prescription pills.

She slid down to the ground, her knees buckling under the imaginary force on her shoulders. The shadow of the overhang from the roof above prevented the pernicious glare of the midday sun from attacking her uncovered eyes, but did nothing to conceal her from the stares of stunned bystanders.

Beth prayed that some god might take pity on her and restore her breath and unhook the clenching in her gut so she could feign a momentary fatigue and rise without embarrassment. But a crowd had already circled her in tribe-like fashion as if she were the fire, the focal point of some clan meeting that lured their attention but threatened to burn if they got too close. City dwellers were a curious bunch preoccupied with self-preservation, keeping others at arms length, not wanting to get involved. They'd murmur to each other, speculate about the cause--drugs, no doubt--and then squabble about who would call 911 on their cell phone. Perhaps by the time they'd exhausted their ritualistic gawking she'd be well enough to get away unceremoniously. Anonymous.

Arms, numb and useless, dangled from the torso that slumped rag-doll style on the sidewalk. Beth felt disconnected from her body. The whirl of commotion around her was inaudible now. Her mind had disengaged. With her forehead resting on hitched-up knees, Beth Connors was as unraveled as a ball of yarn under the scrupulous attention of a playful feline.

"Hey, sweetheart," said a deep, soothing voice.

Too late. She couldn't escape the unwanted attention now. Some do-gooder had taken an interest.

A hand, strong, warm, gentle, nuzzled her cheek. "Sweetheart? Look at me. Tell me how I can help you."

Usually kindness had the same affect on her as stress. But she didn't feel anxious. She felt, oddly, safe. So she lifted her head, her eyes fluttering open.

She must be in heaven. The man that knelt in front of her had the face of an angel. The hand that remained on her cheek conveyed tenderness, a genuine concern that was mirrored in the pale blue eyes fixed firmly on hers. He towered over her, this handsome stranger, but not in a threatening way. Even in her familiar stress-induced panic attack, Beth noted his height along with the sun-kissed streaks in his hair. Odd, she thought, to find a man who looked as if he'd spent the afternoon in the sun instead of in an office tower in downtown Toronto, Ontario. Canada was hot in the summer, but most of the folk at this hour carried briefcases and cellphones, and were running to another meeting, not stopping to help a stranger in distress on a street corner.

"Hi there, gorgeous." He smiled as he spoke. "What's your name?"

"Beth."

"Nice to meet you Beth. Now just hold still a minute and get your bearings," he said as she tried to stand up. "No need to rush."

"People are staring at me. I think I should get up now."

"They're not gawking at you, love. They're looking at me. And they're jealous." He winked mischievously. "Because I'm talking to a lovely lady and they were too shy to make your acquaintance."

His voice poured over her like honey, thick and sweet. But she was breathing normally again and angry with herself for causing a scene.

"You're being very nice, but I really need to get off this sidewalk. It's rather humiliating."

Before Beth had time to leverage herself, the stranger had effortlessly pulled her up and onto her feet, careful to keep his hands on her waist to ensure she was steady enough to remain that way. Only when he released her to pick up the beige purse that had slipped off her shoulder when she so gracefully plopped to the ground did she remember why she had journeyed downtown in the first place.

"Dammit," she muttered under her breath as she flipped open the face of the watch dangling from her delicate wrist. Frustrated, she slapped the palm of her hand to her forehead. She'd missed it. There was no way she'd make it on time now.

Instinctively, she began smoothing the wrinkles from her linen Capri pants that rested just above her ankles instead of just below her knees. She hadn't inherited her mother's long slender legs. To see them together, her mother long and lanky with a boyishly slender build, and Beth with a curvy, compact figure, one would be hard pressed to see the familial relation. She often thought she was adopted, anyway. Their differences ran far deeper than bone structure.

By now the onlookers had dispersed. Show over. Back to the routine they executed with precise regularity. But the man with the angelic face remained. Beth started to rant. "Do I really think I can make a go of it on my own? God, I hate to admit when my mother is right. She'll use this as grist for the mill until I'm at least forty. By then she'll have other inadequacies to illuminate, I'm sure. One constant disappointment." At this last comment she let out a sound, part chuckle, part sneer.

He watched her while she carried on her strictly one-sided conversation. She was a spitfire. The light was back in her hazel eyes, bright green illuminating the edges. She looked angry. Her shoulders shot back with indignation, and her hips swiveled as she marched three short steps in one direction, then three more in the other. Back and forth, like a trooper. A fighter. Pacing, readying herself for battle.

"Well, if she thinks I'll just lay down to be trampled.... "Beth stopped mid-sentence, partly because she wasn't sure if she could finish the statement with true conviction, and because he was watching her. He looked amused.

"Don't look so smug," she snapped. "Like you've never seen someone think out loud."

"Not with so much vigor. And definitely not after finding them passed out on a street corner."

"I wasn't passed out. I didn't faint, for God's sake."

"Oh, you just set down to take a short little rest?" There was no condescension in his voice, only amused curiosity.

"No, I didn't set down for a siesta. And who talks like that? Set down. I sound like the tea service my mother places on her high-gloss cherry table every Thursday before her meeting. She calls it a book club. Book club my ass. Those women read Cosmo cover to cover and consider that high art."

"Are you always this animated when you talk?"

"Only on street corners in the middle of the day," Beth said sarcastically. Then she let out a sigh and prepared to apologize. She'd had enough practice doing that over the years. "Listen, I apologize if I sound ... a bit abrasive. I've had a crappy day thus far and it doesn't look like I'll be getting a gold-handled shovel any time soon to clear up the mess."

"I see. Well, then, perhaps I could offer to take you to lunch. No sense continuing your diatribe on an empty stomach."

"Lunch?"

"Yeah, the midday meal. It is a custom in North America."

"You don't even know me."

"Actually, I know a great deal about you, Beth."

She eyed him speculatively. "Now you're a shrink?"

"No, just an observer."

"Who are you?"

"The guy who stopped to...."

She cut him off. "Don't be cute, buddy. I don't even know your name."

"Call me Jack."

"Jack. As in Jack the Ripper?" She thought the snippy remark might have provoked a defensive response, but he remained nonplused.

"Nope. As in Jack-of-all-trades," he replied casually, lifting a shoulder as if to shrug off the insult.

"This is a little strange."

"What? Me picking you up off the uncomfortable pavement or me asking you to lunch?

"Both."

Jack pondered a moment. "Unorthodox, perhaps, but not strange. Don't you believe in destiny, Beth?"

"Right place, right time kind of thing?"

"Yep. I can't say I'm unhappy that I landed in your big city when I did."

"Well, yes, I suppose it worked out well for both of us. Thank you," she said, reverting back to a rehearsed formality ingrained in her from birth and developed through years of private school. Though she couldn't take credit for Toronto being her city. In fact, she was as much a visitor today as he was.

"No need. It was my pleasure, Beth. Now, do you have a previous engagement or will you let me take you to lunch?"

Previous engagement, she mused. Not any more. She'd missed the appointment at the bank and her chance for a loan to save her struggling business. "No." When he looked mildly disappointed she added, "No I don't have an engagement. At least not anymore, so I'd be happy to take you to lunch. My treat, to properly thank you for your help."

"Like I said, Beth, no need to thank me. But I won't turn down an invitation from a beautiful woman."

That simple compliment made her stomach jittery--in a nice way. She realized she was no longer obsessing, as she usually did, about her missed meeting. She was actually having fun. With a man who'd peeled her off the pavement less than ten minutes ago. She considered the offer. "Okay, here's the deal, Jack-of-all-trades. We'll go for lunch. You choose the restaurant, I buy."

"On one condition."

Beth waited and watched a smirk form across his lips. "You don't make me carry this purse to the restaurant," he said, holding the little beige bag out to her.

"Oh." She'd forgotten about that. "Sounds like a deal." Beth snatched the purse out of his hand, and before she could object, Jack took her hand to lead her down the street.