HE'S HELL ON WHEELS.
Tall, dark, and dangerously handsome, Zane "Tracker" Colter is the strong, silent type of tattooed muscle biker who drives women wild. But as a master of strategy for the outlaw MC club, Sinner's Tribe, he doesn't have time to play around with groupies and biker chicks-especially when he can't stop thinking about Evie, the girl who got away...
SHE'S PLAYING WITH FIRE.
Evie's been in love with Zane ever since they were children-until he broke her heart and disappeared. Now he's back in her life, bigger and badder than ever. Zane is stunned by how beautiful and confident Evie's become, using her artistic talent to customize motorcycles. He wants her so bad, he'd ride through fire to win her back. There's one problem: Evie is dating his deadliest rival-the leader of the Black Jacks-and if Evie and Zane hook up, there'll be hell to pay...
New York Times and USA Today bestselling author Sarah Castille worked and travelled abroad before trading her briefcase and stilettos for a handful of magic beans and a home near the Canadian Rockies. She writes contemporary erotic romance and romantic suspense featuring blazingly hot alpha heroes and the women who tame them. Her books include the bestselling “Redemption” fighter romance series, and the dark, gritty Sinner’s Tribe Motorcycle Club romance series.
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“What are you looking for?" She looked down, letting her hair cover her face so he couldn't see the flush in her cheeks. "I have a few hours free this afternoon, and since Bill isn’t there, I don’t mind going in to help you out. Ty…my son…is with a friend.”
God, this was as bad as getting Ty to tell her about his day at school. “Do you need to buy paint or are you looking for artwork?”
Evie fought back a smile. Zane had always reverted to monosyllabic answers in emotionally stressful situations, and she had a feeling his stress wasn’t because of T-Rex and Tank shirking their duties. “You want to see my portfolio and some samples or do you have something in mind?” She sidestepped around him, heading for the door so she could grab her purse. Her body brushed against his and just that tiny touch—the feel of his hard chest against her breasts, the scent of his leather cut—sent her pulse skyrocketing, and stumbled.
Zane put out a hand to steady her, then suddenly yanked her against him, holding her fast with an arm around her waist. "You were always touching me, Evie," he murmured. "Drove me outta my fucking mind. You playing games with me now?"
Her chest expanded and she sucked in some badly needed air. This wasn't Zane the teenager, who fumbled with her clothes beside the creek, his hand shaking as he touched her bare skin. This was Zane the man, confident, self-assured and strong, with a dominance that made her knees weak and a body that made her mouth water.
Dangerous. Maybe even a killer.
No. She pushed the thought away. Even after she gave up hope of seeing him again, she never believed he was responsible for her father’s death.
"We should go." She pulled away, at least she thought she did, but his hand stayed firm on her lower back. "I'll show you my portfolio."
“Saw it when I stopped by the shop on my way here. You got real talent. Always did.”
“You broke into the shop?” The warmth of his hand seeped through her body making it difficult to keep her spine stiff and her indignation firm.
A half grin spread across his face, and his shoulders relaxed. “Thought maybe you were unconscious inside since the hours on the door said the shop was open on Sunday.”
“And you didn’t think to call Tank or T-Rex who were parked outside my house?”
“I’m a man of action, sweetheart.” He nuzzled the side of her face, the rasp of his breath in her ear so damn erotic she wanted nothing more than to drag him into her house and do something insanely stupid.
"I hope you didn’t rampage through the shop during your break-in. It's partly my business, too."
He jerked back and his smile faded. "You think I’m gonna steal from you?"
She cringed at his sharp tone, but better to have him annoyed than sexy and seductive. "You are an outlaw biker. Isn't that what you do? Mayhem, theft, arson…the more illegal the better?"
"We do what we gotta do to live the way we want to live."
Evie pulled away, putting some much-needed space between them. "The way I want to live includes having a way to pay the rent, and that's not going down if anything happens to the shop. Plus, Axle won’t be back. I told Jagger, but he didn’t believe me. He was just delivering a message from someone.” She turned to the door, cringing at the reveal she hadn’t intended to make, but before she could step inside, Zane clamped a hand on her shoulder.
Her heart pounded a warning, but she couldn’t outright lie, and the question suggested he already knew the answer. “Viper.”
Zane hissed in a breath. “What was the message?”
She twisted a lock of hair around her finger, and looked back at him over her shoulder. “It’s…sort of…personal. We’re…um…friends.”
His gaze locked on her finger and his eyes narrowed. Damn. He knew her anxiety tell as well as she knew his. “Viper doesn’t have friends.”
“Maybe you don’t know him that well.”
He released her and took a step back. “Maybe I don’t know you.”
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