#SampleSunday: HARDBALL by V.K. Sykes

For #Sample Sunday, here’s another excerpt from Hardball, the sexy contemporary romance I wrote with my husband under the pen name of VK Sykes.  Nate, a superstar baseball player, and Holly, a serious and rather shy pediatric surgeon, have been dating for several weeks – and it’s been hot and heavy.  But problems for both of them at work have been putting strains on their relationship, so Nate has surprised Holly with a get-away weekend to the Florida coast.  After dinner in a five star restaurant, they head out to the beach…

A sliver of moonlight allowed Nate and Holly to pick their way along the narrow path through the dunes.  He glanced back at the lights of the Ritz shining behind them.  Ahead lay only the darkness of the sand and the glow of the moonlight on the still water.  With the low tide, the beach seemed to stretch forever toward the sea.

They had ditched their shoes at the end of the fake wood walkway that traversed most of the wide dunes between the hotel and the shoreline.  Holly looked elegant in her sexy cocktail dress, but as for him—well, bare feet and rolled up trouser legs didn’t exactly go with the Armani look.

Leading the way, wine bottle under one arm and a long-stemmed glass stuffed in each outside pocket of his jacket, he swept the beach ahead with the small flashlight a valet had retrieved from the BMW.  Holly followed right behind, her left hand loosely gripping the back of his jacket and her right clutching the blanket.

Suddenly, she cried out.  “Ouch!”

“What’s wrong?”  He swung around and flashed the light in her direction.

“Man, that really hurt!”  Holly flopped down in the sand like a little kid and examined the bottom of her foot.  “I must have I stepped on a sharp shell.  I think it’s okay, though.  Just stings a lot.”

Nate trained the flashlight on her foot.  Just inches away, he noticed a big, bumpy oyster shell poking up out of the otherwise pristine sand.  “You sure you’re okay?”

She nodded as she dusted the sand from her foot and then held out her hand.  He grasped it and helped her up.  She balanced on one foot for a moment before gingerly putting the injured foot down.  “It was more a shock than anything.  No big deal.  Let’s keep going.”

“As soon as we stop, I’ll kiss it better,” he murmured in her ear.

“Maybe I should step on things more often,” she said in a sex-laden voice as she reached around his neck and leaned her body into him.

Nate dropped the wine and the flashlight onto the soft sand and pulled her against him, his hands reaching down to the small of her waist and then to her bottom.  Feeling the smooth, rounded warmth in his hands as his mouth eagerly found hers made him hard in a split-second.  He knew Holly could feel his erection against her stomach, as she moaned and melted against him.

“I thought you wanted to keep going?” Nate growled, running a string of damp kisses over her ear and neck.

“I do,” Holly whispered.  “But just far enough.  We’re too exposed here.”

“You had this planned all along, didn’t you?”  He squeezed her waist, desire ripping through him.

“Are you complaining?” she retorted, giving him a nudge in the back.  “It’s time you found us a nice, private place.”

Small dunes covered in sea oats lined the beach as far into the distance as Nate could see.  They slowly walked south past some medium-height condo buildings until he spotted a kind of small semi-circle formed by two dunes.   He could see that it offered protection from view on three sides—only people walking by on the beach directly in front of the indentation could see inside it.  And it was highly unlikely that anybody else would be walking here on this dark beach, so late at night.

“Over there,” he said, pointing.  “That’s our spot.”

Holly gave him a thumbs-up and quickened her pace, despite her foot.  Nate laughed and followed.  By the time he caught up to her in the dunes, she had already spread out the blanket.  He set the wine bottle down, pulled the glasses and corkscrew out of his pockets and tossed them onto the blanket.  Then he reached for her.

“Oh no,” she protested, sitting down.  “You promised something first.”  She reclined onto her back and gracefully lifted her right leg into the air, wiggling the foot.

“I did, didn’t I?  He sank to his knees and took her slender foot in his hands.  Brushing off the film of fine sand, he kissed it—not just once, but all over, running his lips lightly from her heel to her toes and back again.

“That tickles!” she yelped.  “You, sir, could use a shave.”

“Now look who’s complaining,” he murmured, gently sucking on her little toe.

“Okay,” she sighed, “that’s better.”  She laid back, her hair cascading over on the blanket.  “Do it some more.”

Hardball is available on the Nook, Amazon and at Smashwords for $2.99.  You can read all about it, including another excerpt, on my VK Sykes website.

Have a great Sunday!


#SampleSunday: HARDBALL by V.K. Sykes

For #Sample Sunday, here’s an excerpt from Hardball, the sexy contemporary romance I wrote with my husband under the pen name of VK Sykes.  Nate, a superstar baseball player, and Holly, a serious and rather shy pediatric surgeon, meet for the first time.  When making a visit to the local children’s hospital to visit with the kids, Nate runs into Holly.

Nate entered the room.  Two steps inside, he stopped short, brushing up against a woman in a white lab coat.  She must have been standing at the foot of the bed, fully hidden by the door.

The woman took a small step backward, clearly startled by the brief physical contact.  As their eyes met, Nate felt all the air sucked from his lungs in one whoosh.

Sweet Mother of God.

He had to pull in a deep breath.  What a babe.

The woman’s brow creased.  “I’m Dr. Bell.  Can I help you?”

He couldn’t stop his gaze from quickly traveling the full length of her body, from her face to her ankles and all the way back again.  Though not nearly as tall as he was, this doctor was one seriously long drink of a woman.  Close to six feet, he reckoned.  Her unbuttoned lab coat revealed a lean but curvy figure, and long, elegant legs.  She had a naturally beautiful face, too, with big, hazel eyes, a full, sexy mouth, and a peaches and cream complexion.  Still, he suspected she tended to hide her light under a bushel.  She wore no makeup that he could see, and her auburn hair was pulled back into a ponytail.  Glasses were perched on the end of her nose, secured by a fine gold chain around her neck.  They added to her unadorned, resolutely professional look.

The doctor extended a slender hand.  Her fine eyebrows arched as she waited for him to find his voice.

Her outstretched hand finally registered in his brain and jolted him into action. “I’m sorry,” he apologized, “I was a little surprised for a moment.  You were hidden by the door.”

He took her hand and held it a few seconds.  It was long and fine-boned, but her firm grip told him it was strong, too.  The kind of hand he’d like to have doing surgery on him.  In fact, he mused, he wouldn’t mind that hand doing all sorts of things to his body.

He introduced himself.  “I’m Nate Carter.  I come around whenever I can to visit with the kids.”

She still looked puzzled.  It dawned on him that she had absolutely no idea who he was.  It didn’t bother him, though.  Actually, it felt like a nice change of pace from the constant fan recognition.

“I’m a pitcher with the Patriots,” he said.  “You know.  Baseball.”

Her mouth relaxed into a half-smile. “Oh, I see,” she replied.  “You’re one of our celebrity visitors.”  Her crisp tone told him she was far from awed by his presence.  Looking down at the little girl, she said, “Mr. Carter, this is Morgan McDaniel.”

Morgan shyly put her little hand in his big one.

“Dr. Holly, I know who Nate Carter is,” she said in a whispery voice.  “He’s the Patriots’ best pitcher.  Everybody knows that.”

Dr. Bell seemed to hold back a smile as Morgan skewered her.  “I don’t think I’ve told you yet how new I am to the city, Morgan,” she said, her serious voice at odds with the amusement in her eyes.  “If I’d been here for more than just a few weeks, I’m sure I would have recognized a man as famous as Mr. Carter.”

Nate smothered a chuckle.  What a perfect response.  She validated what the little girl had said, and made him feel good at the same time.

“That’s why I didn’t recognize you, either,” he said.  “I’ve met most of the doctors here over the past few years, and I know I would have remembered if I’d ever seen you before.”  He made no attempt to keep the appreciation out of his voice.

“Well, then, I suppose we might run into each other again.”  Her smile was hesitant but intriguing.  “Since you’re a regular visitor here.”

“You bet,” he said.

As if he didn’t already have enough motivation to keep doing this“Doctor Bell,” he continued, wanting to keep the conversation going, “do you mind my asking where you’re from?  I detect a bit of a southern accent.”

She sighed, her expression conveying rueful resignation.  “You’re probably hearing the north Florida in my voice.  I grew up in Jacksonville.  But for the last nine years I’ve been studying and working at the University of Virginia.”

“You’re from Jacksonville?  No kidding?  I’ve got a condo in Ponte Vedra Beach, and I’m in Jax all the time when I’m down there.”  He looked over at Morgan, staring at the adults with big, round eyes, and winked.  The little girl giggled.

Nate glanced back at the doctor.  “That’s got to be some kind of karma, right?”

Dr. Bell registered his flirtation, and her eyes widened in surprise.  A slight blush colored her smooth cheeks.  He could feel his smile broaden as she somewhat defiantly returned his look, and it occurred to him that perhaps the good doctor was issuing a challenge.

Well, he’d be more than happy to oblige her.  He knew without a shadow of a doubt he was going to find out just what this lovely doctor was all about.

Hardball is available on the Nook, Amazon and at Smashwords for $2.99.  You can read all about it, including a longer excerpt, on my VK Sykes website.

Have a great Sunday!


#SampleSunday: HARDBALL by V.K. Sykes

For #Sample Sunday, here’s another excerpt from Hardball, the sexy contemporary romance I wrote with my husband under the pen name of VK Sykes.  Nate, a superstar baseball player, and Holly, a serious and rather shy pediatric surgeon, had been dating for several weeks until problems meshing their competing careers drove them apart.  But Holly has real problems at work – a dangerous ex-con is stalking her.  When Nate finds out she’s in trouble, there’s no way he’s not getting involved.

Holly jumped at the chime of her doorbell.  Then she swore under her breath for being such a wimp, reacting badly to every little thing.

“Just a sec,” she yelled toward the front door.  Only minutes had passed since she’d arrived home.  Exhausted from lack of sleep—she’d been up most of the night, startling at every noise and repeatedly checking the locks—she’d left the hospital early to catch up on paperwork and reading at home.   In the middle of changing out of her work clothes, she quickly pulled on shorts and yanked a tank top over her head.  Barefoot, she hurried to the door.

Her over-active imagination pictured Lance Arnold on the other side, but she banished the frightening image.  There wasn’t much chance the lunatic would be standing on her porch at four in the afternoon, politely ringing the bell while Holly’s next door neighbor weeded her flower garden.

Still, she peered carefully through the peephole before touching the latch.  What she saw made her take a quick step backward, almost losing her balance.

Oh, God!  What’s he doing here?

She took a deep breath and unhooked the safety chain with trembling hands.

Nate, looking fierce and determined, brushed past her into the living room before she had a chance to react.  “We have to talk.  I tried the hospital and they told me you’d gone home.”

Holly stood frozen, dumbfounded.  Not only had he shown up unannounced at her door after no contact for two weeks, he’d barged straight into her house and started ordering her around!  Her initial, instinctive reaction of relief gave way to irritation.

“Well, hello, Nate.  How are you?  I’d invite you to come in, but that’s clearly unnecessary now.”  Planting her feet apart and crossing her arms, she glowered at him.  She must look like she was ready to strangle him, because that was how she felt.

Well, she also wanted to leap on him and rip his clothes off, but that was just her body being stupid.  Belatedly, she noticed he’d brought a sports bag with him, which he now dropped with a thump onto the floor.

Nate looked like he wanted to laugh at her retort, but then caught her expression and stopped himself.  “I heard what happened with Arnold.  How he’s calling again.  I couldn’t sit up there in Canada wondering if he was really going to try to get at you.”

Her heart started to flutter, and she pressed a hand to her chest.  “How did you find out?”

“Doesn’t matter.  Listen, babe, I’m not going to let you face this guy alone.  I was awake all night, thinking hard about it.”  He pointed to the sports bag.  “I’m moving in with you until the cops nail the bastard, and don’t even try to tell me no.”  He mimicked her gestures by planting his feet wide and crossing his arms, looking much more intimidating than she ever could.

Holly’s legs almost collapsed out from under her.  She managed to steady herself by leaning against the archway to the living room.  Speechless, scared, thrilled, all she could manage was a shake of her head.

He wagged his index finger at her.  “No, don’t go shaking your head,” he said firmly.  “You know damn well you should have somebody around to watch out for you.  The cops can’t do it.”

True enough.  But that didn’t mean she could let him stay.  Even though it felt right on so many levels, she knew it was wrong.

He grimaced and his eyes pleaded with her.  “Let me do this for you, Holly.  You need my help.”

She’d dreamed of someday living with Nate.  The last two weeks, more than she cared to think about, she’d wept over the death of that dream.  Now here he was, suitcase and all, ready to move in.  But this wasn’t the stuff of dreams.  Lance Arnold had made it the stuff of nightmares.

Holly couldn’t seem to find the right words to explain it.  Nate must not have been expecting a lengthy silence, because he tilted his head and gave her a puzzled look.

She cleared her throat.  “I appreciate your concern.  I really do.  But I’m quite capable of taking care of myself, thank you.  I don’t need a bodyguard.  Or a babysitter.  And I’m sure you have lots going on in your own life.”  Knowing him, he probably even had a new girlfriend by now.

That nasty little thought stiffened her spine, and she glared back at him.

Nate’s mouth thinned into a hard, determined line.  He looked as if he’d like to pull her onto his lap and spank her.  Somehow, the thought didn’t alarm her as much as it should have.

“Come on, Holly.  You’re smart and capable and tough.  You’ve got nothing to prove.  But if that creep gets a chance, he’ll grab you, and I don’t think you’ll be able to do much about it.”

When he took a step toward her, she backed away.  More than anything, she wanted to collapse into his arms, but there was too much at stake for self-indulgent weakness.  He couldn’t stay forever, and then what would she do when he left again?

Nate threw up his hands in frustration.  “Jesus, woman!  Just let me help you, okay?  I can’t stand by and do nothing when you’re in danger.”

Holly shook her head again, but she could feel her resolve start to erode.  “I can’t do it, Nate.  I just can’t,” she pleaded.

Now his eyes gleamed, as if he sensed her weakening.  “Sure, you can,” he said in a coaxing voice.  “Because if you kick me out of here, I swear I’ll sit on your sidewalk all day and sleep in my car out front all night.”

She stared at him, all six-feet-five inches of rampant masculinity, hard as a rock, his jaw set with a determination she knew meant he’d stop at nothing to keep her safe.  It made her feel all gooey inside, but it also scared the hell out of her.  If he stayed with her, they’d end up in bed at some point as sure as the sun rose every day in the east.  When it came to him, she was that weak.

Hardball is available on the Nook, Amazon and at Smashwords for $2.99.  You can read all about it, including another excerpt, on my VK Sykes website.

Have a great Sunday!


#SampleSunday: HARDBALL by V.K. Sykes

For #Sample Sunday, here’s another excerpt from Hardball, the sexy contemporary romance I wrote with my husband under the pen name of VK Sykes.  Nate, a superstar baseball player, and Holly, a serious and rather shy pediatric surgeon, have been dating for several weeks – and it’s been hot and heavy.  But problems for both of them at work have been putting strains on their relationship, so Nate has surprised Holly with a get-away weekend to the Florida coast.  After dinner in a five star restaurant, they head out to the beach…

A sliver of moonlight allowed Nate and Holly to pick their way along the narrow path through the dunes.  He glanced back at the lights of the Ritz shining behind them.  Ahead lay only the darkness of the sand and the glow of the moonlight on the still water.  With the low tide, the beach seemed to stretch forever toward the sea.

They had ditched their shoes at the end of the fake wood walkway that traversed most of the wide dunes between the hotel and the shoreline.  Holly looked elegant in her sexy cocktail dress, but as for him—well, bare feet and rolled up trouser legs didn’t exactly go with the Armani look.

Leading the way, wine bottle under one arm and a long-stemmed glass stuffed in each outside pocket of his jacket, he swept the beach ahead with the small flashlight a valet had retrieved from the BMW.  Holly followed right behind, her left hand loosely gripping the back of his jacket and her right clutching the blanket.

Suddenly, she cried out.  “Ouch!”

“What’s wrong?”  He swung around and flashed the light in her direction.

“Man, that really hurt!”  Holly flopped down in the sand like a little kid and examined the bottom of her foot.  “I must have I stepped on a sharp shell.  I think it’s okay, though.  Just stings a lot.”

Nate trained the flashlight on her foot.  Just inches away, he noticed a big, bumpy oyster shell poking up out of the otherwise pristine sand.  “You sure you’re okay?”

She nodded as she dusted the sand from her foot and then held out her hand.  He grasped it and helped her up.  She balanced on one foot for a moment before gingerly putting the injured foot down.  “It was more a shock than anything.  No big deal.  Let’s keep going.”

“As soon as we stop, I’ll kiss it better,” he murmured in her ear.

“Maybe I should step on things more often,” she said in a sex-laden voice as she reached around his neck and leaned her body into him.

Nate dropped the wine and the flashlight onto the soft sand and pulled her against him, his hands reaching down to the small of her waist and then to her bottom.  Feeling the smooth, rounded warmth in his hands as his mouth eagerly found hers made him hard in a split-second.  He knew Holly could feel his erection against her stomach, as she moaned and melted against him.

“I thought you wanted to keep going?” Nate growled, running a string of damp kisses over her ear and neck.

“I do,” Holly whispered.  “But just far enough.  We’re too exposed here.”

“You had this planned all along, didn’t you?”  He squeezed her waist, desire ripping through him.

“Are you complaining?” she retorted, giving him a nudge in the back.  “It’s time you found us a nice, private place.”

Small dunes covered in sea oats lined the beach as far into the distance as Nate could see.  They slowly walked south past some medium-height condo buildings until he spotted a kind of small semi-circle formed by two dunes.   He could see that it offered protection from view on three sides—only people walking by on the beach directly in front of the indentation could see inside it.  And it was highly unlikely that anybody else would be walking here on this dark beach, so late at night.

“Over there,” he said, pointing.  “That’s our spot.”

Holly gave him a thumbs-up and quickened her pace, despite her foot.  Nate laughed and followed.  By the time he caught up to her in the dunes, she had already spread out the blanket.  He set the wine bottle down, pulled the glasses and corkscrew out of his pockets and tossed them onto the blanket.  Then he reached for her.

“Oh no,” she protested, sitting down.  “You promised something first.”  She reclined onto her back and gracefully lifted her right leg into the air, wiggling the foot.

“I did, didn’t I?  He sank to his knees and took her slender foot in his hands.  Brushing off the film of fine sand, he kissed it—not just once, but all over, running his lips lightly from her heel to her toes and back again.

“That tickles!” she yelped.  “You, sir, could use a shave.”

“Now look who’s complaining,” he murmured, gently sucking on her little toe.

“Okay,” she sighed, “that’s better.”  She laid back, her hair cascading over on the blanket.  “Do it some more.”

Hardball is available on the Nook, Amazon and at Smashwords for $2.99.  You can read all about it, including another excerpt, on my VK Sykes website.

Have a great Sunday!


#SampleSunday: HARDBALL by V.K. Sykes

For #Sample Sunday, here’s another excerpt from Hardball, the sexy contemporary romance I wrote with my husband under the pen name of VK Sykes.  Nate, a superstar baseball player, and Holly, a serious and rather shy pediatric surgeon, have been dating for several weeks – and it’s been hot and heavy.  But even though things have been going well, problems are starting to pile up for them.  Nate just injured his shoulder in a game and Holly is dealing with a tricky situation at work – she’s treating a young heart patient whose father seems strangely opposed to the life-saving surgery the little boy needs.

Still feeling slightly woozy and pretty much like a piece of crap, Nate automatically reached out with his left hand to open the fridge, only to be brought up short by the sling on his arm.

He expelled an impatient breath and switched to the other hand.  Okay, the stupid sling saved him from the searing pain of ill-advised shoulder movement, but it was going to take a lot of getting used to.

Why couldn’t the stinking ball have whacked me in the right shoulder?

He took pride in being a lefthander, and baseball loved southpaws.  Most pitchers were right-handed, as were a large majority of batters.  So hitters would face righties on the mound seventy or eighty per cent of the time.  That discrepancy gave a leftie pitcher the advantage of relative unfamiliarity.  Added to his natural talent and conditioning, it gave Nate an ever greater competitive edge.

Aside from baseball, being left-handed was an advantage in a scrap, too, because the other guy often had no idea how to react to jabs and punches coming at him from a different angle.  In Brooklyn, where he’d grown up, knowing how to fight was more important than just about anything.  And as a teenage baseball phenom, his southpaw curveball had baffled the other kids, even much older players.  He had mowed down the batters like a scythe slashing through wispy stalks of dry wheat.

Nate remembered the day when one of his elementary school teachers taught the class that the word “sinister” derived from the Latin word meaning “left”.  That was cool.  It meant vaguely dangerous or threatening, and that suited him just fine.

But now, without the use of his left arm and hand, he felt like a pathetic, one-winged bird.  The simplest things had become difficult, like opening the fridge door.

He was struggling to slather peanut butter on a couple of slices of toast when he heard the front door open.  Dropping the knife on the granite counter, he ambled to the hallway just as Holly shut the door behind her.  She leaned into him and he kissed her slowly and deeply, his tongue tasting all the heady sweetness of her.

He thanked God for Holly.  She was the only thing right now keeping his sense of anger and frustration at bay.  When he opened his eyes this afternoon to see her standing by his bed in that damn hospital cubicle, her emerald-green eyes full of worry and affection, it had been like someone had thrown him a lifeline.

“I like that welcome,” she sighed in her pretty, southern-tinged voice.  “You must have missed me.”

“Big time.”  Nate clumsily brushed a lock of auburn hair away from her face.  “It’s been hell trying to get the peanut butter onto my damn toast.”

“Beast!”  She slapped him on the ass as he dodged away from her.  “You’re feeling a little better, I gather, since you’re back to the lame jokes.”

“It doesn’t hurt that much except when I move the arm.  The sling’s good, but I’m sure I’m going to keep trying to use this arm unless it’s glued to my body.”

She walked with him down the hall, rubbing his back in sympathy, but then laughed when she saw the mess he’d made in the kitchen.  He’d slopped more peanut butter on the counter than he managed to get on the bread.  She cocked an eyebrow at him.  “Having a little trouble with the right hand, are we?”

He grimaced, his frustration spiking again at the thought of how long it would take him to get back to normal.  “This thing better heal fast or I’m in trouble.  I’ll have to hire a cook.”

“Now there’s a thought,” she agreed, wiping down the counter with a Handi-wipe.  “But for now, why don’t you let me make you something better?  How about an omelet and a salad?  Got any eggs?”

“In the fridge.  Thanks.  Maybe this invalid thing won’t be so bad after all.”

“I think you’d better find that cook,” she said with a little snort.  “And in the meantime, get out of the kitchen.  Oh, wait.”  She rummaged around in her purse, extracted a pill bottle, and twisted the cap off.  “Here are your meds.  Take two now, and go relax.  I’ll call you when dinner’s ready.”

“Thanks, Doc.  You’re the best.”  He dropped a quick kiss on her lips and left the kitchen, but not before he saw the happy, almost shy smile that lit up her beautiful face.  He hesitated, and his chest muscles seemed to pull tight.  Not painful tight, just strange tight.  He frowned, rubbing his pecs, but then chalked the odd feeling up to the stresses of the day.

They ate at the glass-topped table in his kitchen, both too tired to talk very much.  They discussed his upcoming rehab, and Nate made a few lames jokes about it.  Though Holly chuckled at his attempted humor, he could see something weighed on her mind.  Something besides his injury.

“I know you’re worried sick over me,” he said in a teasing voice, “but I get the feeling that something else is going on in that mighty brain of yours.  Want to talk about it?”

Holly sighed.  “Really, it’s nothing you should worry about.”

He thought she was trying to hide her discomfort for his sake, but wasn’t doing a very good job of it.  “What’s going on, babe?”

Her mouth turned down at the corners as she clearly weighed telling him.  He knew her enough by now to understand that her instinct would be to coddle and protect him, but that was crap.  If something was bothering her, he wanted in on it.

“Oh, it’s just some nastiness with a guy at the hospital,” she finally said.  “I don’t take well to being yelled at.  I got enough of that from my parents to last several lifetimes.”  She gave a shrug, as if it didn’t mean that much.

Nate bristled on her behalf.  “What’s the bastard yelling at you for?”

She got up to retrieve the coffee pot from the counter, and didn’t answer until she’d refilled his cup.  “It’s a weird situation.  His five-year-old son needs a heart valve replacement as soon as he’s healthy enough for the surgery.  But the father’s balking at giving his permission.”

Nate frowned, not understanding.  “What, is he nuts?”

“He keeps saying the boy’s been through enough.”

Nate scoffed.  “I can see that in theory.  I’ve been around children’s hospitals long enough to know the score.  But how bad is this kid’s situation?  It can’t be bad enough to make a father do something as weird as that.”

“No,” Holly said firmly.  “It absolutely isn’t.  I mean, the boy’s going to be in for a tough haul, and lots of things can go wrong.  No question about that.  But he’ll pull through this current crisis, and I can save his life with the operation.  Isn’t that all that counts?”

He loved that Holly had such confidence in her skills.  Nate knew what it took to be a winner, and his brilliant, sexy doctor had it in spades.

Reaching out, he covered her hand with his.  “That’s where I’d be, if it was my kid.  Maybe the guy will come around in time.  He’s a jerk, but he’s probably scared out of his mind.”

She shook her head.  “Normally, I’d agree with you.  But Lance Arnold’s different.  I’ve never met any parent remotely like him.  I don’t get any sense of fear in him.  He oscillates between indifference and anger.”  She sighed, looking unhappy as she reached for his plate.  “And he doesn’t spend a lot of time with his son.  The nurses and residents have all remarked on it.  Most parents of five-year-olds practically live in their kids’ rooms.”

Nate thought about that as she started to load the dishwasher.  “You’re right.  One of the parents is usually there when I’m visiting a kid.”

Holly paused, leaning against the kitchen counter.  He could tell by the tension in her shoulders how much the situation was bugging her.

“I don’t get it,” she said.  “For a father who claims to be so close to his son, Arnold’s showing precious little sign of it.  It’s really disturbing.”

Nate stilled, struck by a swift, ugly thought.  He knew almost nothing about the case, but his gut was sending him a loud and clear signal.  A bad one, too.

Hardball is available on the Nook, Amazon and at Smashwords for $2.99.  You can read all about it, including another excerpt, on my VK Sykes website.

Have a great Sunday!


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