A Lucky Chance

www.beautifultroublepublishing.com

Copyright © 2011 by Milana Howard

All Rights Reserved.  No part of this book may be reproduced or shared in any form, including but not limited to: printing, photocopying, faxing, recording, electronic transmission, or by any information storage or retrieval system without prior written permission from the authors or holders of the copyright. 

This book is a work of fiction.  References may be made to locations and historical events; however, names, characters, places and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination and/or used fictitiously.  Any resemblance to actual persons (living or dead), businesses, events or locales is either used fictitiously or coincidental. All trademarks, service marks, registered trademarks, and registered service marks are the property of their respective owners and are used herein for identification purposes only.

Published by

Beautiful Trouble Publishing, LLC

PO Box 61

Colfax, NC 27235

www.beautifultroublepublishing.com

Cover Art: Marteeka Karland,
http://www.marteekakarland.com/

Editor: Stephanie Parent

Proofreader: Novellette Whyte

http://authorgurunovellette.blogspot.com/

Formatter:  Jim & Zetta,
http://www.jimandzetta.com/

E-book Conversion: Jim & Zetta,
http://www.jimandzetta.com/

ISBN: (e-book)
978-1-61788-240-1
  

To the man who will always be my inspiration—this one’s for you.

N
OTE
ABOUT
E
B
OOKS

eBooks are NOT transferable.  Re-selling, sharing or giving away eBooks is a copyright infringement.  No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means without written permission of the author or Beautiful Trouble Publishing.

CAVEAT

This work of erotica contains adult language and sexually explicit scenes, which are smoking hot.  This book is intended only for adults, as it is defined by the laws of the country in which the purchase is made.  Keep this book out of the hands of under-aged readers.

A L
UCKY
C
HANCE

Amara didn’t know why the sound of rain falling could charge a moment with such sexual electricity or why Chance’s mouth looked so kissable. Maybe it was because when he’d stepped through her door, he’d come in minus his shirt. Tiny beaded droplets of water clung to the contours of his brawny chest. She was struck with the urge to lick each and every drop, to taste the rain along with his skin. His jeans hung low, allowing her to admire his defined oblique muscles.  

“It was soaked. I didn’t think you’d mind.” Chance’s low, teasing tone was a welcome intrusion into her fantasy. Hearing his voice reminded her that this moment was real and filled with possibilities. “You should get more comfortable too…if you’d like.” His gaze traveled down her body, lingering at the parts of her that were most in need of his touch.

Amara led the way to her bedroom, sensing that Chance’s eyes remained trained on her body. It was as if every nerve ending, every fiber of her being became more alert in his presence. Already she could anticipate the sensation of his lips on hers, the feel of his hands exploring.

She stood to one side of her canopy bed, partially shielded from his view by panels of gauzy ivory fabric. Chance stood across from her on the other side of the bed. His position afforded her the ability to perform a sexy striptease just for him. As she removed her clothing piece by piece, Amara remembered to savor the moment.

With purposeful deliberation, she slid her lacey, black camisole up overhead, playfully tossing it aside. She could feel Chance watching her through the curtains. His eyes never left hers.

Amara smiled to herself. She remembered how they’d first met, how far they’d come in a short amount of time. It was only a couple of months ago that she’d met Chance on St. Patrick’s Day, her new favorite holiday.

Damn it!
Could this have happened at a worse time? Amara Foster pulled off to the side of Las Vegas Boulevard as fumes wafted up from the hood of her car. She thought about calling her boutique manager, Michelle, to give her a ride back to work, but that didn’t seem to be the best idea. Michelle was second in command when Amara wasn’t there. She’d rather not leave her staff unattended, especially on a Saturday─the busiest day of the week for her boutique.

Moda Amara, her formal-wear shop, had recently taken off since she’d added event planning as a service to her clients. Slowly but surely, Amara had built her business into everything she dreamed it could be. Today was proof of that, as she’d just been at the Sondrio casino to scout out a possible location for an A-list celebrity’s wedding.

Amara dug into her handbag for her cell phone. As usual, it’d somehow mysteriously reached the very bottom corner of the slouchy hobo bag she’d purchased more for style than functionality. She scrolled through her contact list and decided to call her sister. More than likely Sabrina would be working, but it didn’t hurt to try. Relief washed over her when she heard her younger sister’s voice.

“Hey girly, what’s up?”

“I was checking out a venue on the Strip and my car overheated.”

“Sorry, sis. Car trouble’s a bitch.”

“Tell me about it. I’m supposed to meet with a bride-to-be today at the store.” When her sister didn’t reply, it became apparent that she was carrying on a conversation in the background.

“Sorry about that. I was talking with Bryer. There’s this friend of his that has an auto repair shop. He’ll call him out to take a look at your car.” Sabrina’s voice lowered. “Let me tell you, he’s come here quite a few times and…yeah.” Her tone returned to normal as she asked, “Where are you at on the Strip?”

Amara laughed a little and gave her the intersection. “I’m just past the Sondrio parking garage on Flamingo.”

“All right. I’ll text you his info as soon as Bryer gets off the phone.”

“Thank you, sweetie. And tell Bryer thanks, too. I appreciate it.” Now that she knew help was on the way, Amara’s stress level decreased exponentially. She took a sip of water from her travel thermos and kept her eyes on the early afternoon traffic whizzing by.

She’d been waiting for a half hour when a truck pulled up in front of her car. On the side of the truck was an emblem that read “Murphy’s Mechanics,” the name her sister sent her along with a winking smiley face. A tall man got out of the truck and came around to meet her. 

Amara could almost hear Buddy Guy’s gritty blues playing in the background as she took in the six and a half feet of virility standing in front of her. He was dressed casually in jeans and a faded t-shirt that bore the same emblem as his truck. His demeanor exuded the quintessential qualities of the strong, silent leading men of old Hollywood.

“Hi. You’re Amara?”

She nodded. He tugged his aviator sunglasses down the bridge of his nose so that his eyes met hers as he spoke. “I’m Chance, Bryer’s friend. So what happened exactly?”

“I started smelling this strange, syrupy scent, and then there was smoke. I pulled over as soon as I could.”

“The sweet smell was most likely your coolant. Pop the hood for me.”

Amara did as Chance asked, but not before noticing more of his rugged handsomeness. His light brown hair was cut short around the sides while the top was tousled in a sexy, bedhead kind of way. Thick brows a shade darker than his hair framed gray-blue eyes that seemed to reflect more than they revealed. Lips that looked to be well versed in the art of kissing were held in a slight frown as he examined her car.

“It looks like you’re completely out of radiator fluid. We’ll take your car in to take care of the leak and check for engine damage. When’s the last time you had your car serviced?”