Barrett Simmons, head of security for the famous rock band, Lyric Hounds, has managed to avoid the band members’ less-than-subtle matchmaking attempts. Since the woman he loved was killed in action, his heart has been as dry and dusty as the sands she fell on. He doesn’t want to date, in fact he can’t think of anything worse. But he didn’t count on his sister, Melody, making a call to Madame Eve....
A car crash two years ago left werewolf Saxon Reeves with amnesia and nightmares—but the nightmares aren’t of the crash. Instead she dreams of a soldier. A human soldier she can’t get out of her head. When her family pushes her to mate with a wolf from a neighboring pack, she decides to take one night, just for herself, and contacts 1Night Stand.
The last thing she expects when she walks through the door is to come face to face with her soldier....
He froze at the soft sound, index finger poised over the screen. Shit, she’s here. He glared at the door as though it were a creature from a nightmare. What should he do? Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath and opened them again.
Okay. It didn’t matter who the woman on other side of the door turned out to be. It made no difference if she was a walking wet-dream, he couldn’t do it. He didn’t want a tall, leggy supermodel or the ultimate fantasy, he wanted small, curvy and sassy. He wanted Sax and always would.
Putting the phone back on the table, he strode across the room, his decision made. He’d let the poor girl in, explain the situation, then leave. She could have the room for the night and he’d reimburse Madame Eve whatever costs were necessary so his date wouldn’t be out of pocket. It wouldn’t be fair otherwise. She expected a night of romance and…. He cut the rest of the thought off. Not her fault he couldn’t go through with it.
Approaching the door, he paused for a second in front of it, hand flat on the smooth, cool wood. His heart ached, throbbing as a pang of longing filled him. He’d heard stories of Madame Eve’s abilities, whispered rumors of more-than-human abilities spanning time and space that she brought to bear to create a perfect match. Why couldn’t…. He sighed. Time and space, but not death itself, and the last time he checked, the Grim Reaper didn’t run a matchmaking service.
He reached for the door handle.
Time to face the music.