eyes who had deserved better than to be cursed with a worthless piece of trash for a father.
When a social worker came to the jail and told him his wife was dead, Jurek had understood that he wasn’t done paying for his mistakes. Lucille Helson, the farm girl who dreamed of being a dancer, had been the best thing that had ever happened to him. And, for their son’s sake, he’d made the most difficult decision of his life.
Now, he was dying—despite what his doctor said. A body could only take so much torture for so long, but he couldn’t let go until he made sure that Yetta and her family were safe from this serpent that Yetta had seen in her dream.
And, selfishly, he hoped to see his son one last time.
“D AMN . I THOUGHT Detroit had a lot of cars and motor homes, but this place is a freakin’ zoo,” her passenger observed. “Why would anyone live here?”
Grace put on her blinker to turn onto Las Vegas Boulevard. The Strip, as it was known throughout the world. She’d circled around the back of McCarran Airport’s industrial and business park to give Nikolai a bit of a tour, but so far, he didn’t seem too impressed.
“Good question. Maybe you should ask one of the seven thousand new arrivals to Clark County—every month.”
Grace didn’t know why she took his rhetorical question so personally. Usually—at least whenever she got stuck in traffic—she agreed with his assessment. But something about this man got to her.
Good thing he isn’t my type, she thought. She’d already done tall, blond and gorgeous—and had paid dearly in the tender of a broken heart. Shawn Bascomb taught her that shoulders made for portaging canoes over rocky shoals were not necessarily broad enough to carry a relationship of any substance.
Grace had been so sure that Shawn, a self-professed ski bum with a penchant for white-water rafting in summer, had been the one from the moment they met. Although he’d proven as reliable as the seasonal snow he lived for, Grace had been determined not to give up on her errant prince.
After graduating from Mesa State College in Grand Junction, she found a job in Ouray, Colorado, to be near Shawn, who gave ski lessons at Telluride. Grace took her responsibilities seriously; she had a need to excel at her job. Shawn partied. Kate, who was working as assistant chef at one of the resorts, heard all the rumors Grace had turned a deaf ear to. She finally told Grace, “Face it. Shawn’s a frog, and no amount of kissing is ever going to change him into a prince.”
“So, is it safe to say that you like living here?” Nikolai asked, leaning forward slightly as they passed the Welcome To Las Vegas sign, which she’d just read was one of the most recognizable icons in the world.
Startled out of her time warp, Grace stepped on the brake for no reason, soliciting a nasty honk from the car behind her. Flustered but determined not to show it, she said, “Yes, I do. Most of the time. Vegas is several cities in one. You have this,” she said, indicating the canyon of hotels they were approaching. “Touristy glam and lots of jobs, but if you cross over the freeway andhead west, you hit Red Rocks and Mount Charleston. See that snowcapped peak?”
He looked around her to where she was pointing. This brought him close enough for her to breathe in his scent. A wholly masculine smell of leather and aftershave that made her mouth water.
Swallowing, she hastily inclined her head in the other direction. “Go that way and you run into Lake Mead and Boulder City. Hoover Dam. Well worth the trip. And sprinkled in between are neighborhoods, like the one my family lives in, which have a kind of small-town feel.”
She checked to see if he was listening. His presence filled the car. Not just his body, but his energy. Something about him was edgy and exciting. He seemed attuned to what was going on around him. He probably never zoned out, she decided. “Most locals don’t come down here unless
When a social worker came to the jail and told him his wife was dead, Jurek had understood that he wasn’t done paying for his mistakes. Lucille Helson, the farm girl who dreamed of being a dancer, had been the best thing that had ever happened to him. And, for their son’s sake, he’d made the most difficult decision of his life.
Now, he was dying—despite what his doctor said. A body could only take so much torture for so long, but he couldn’t let go until he made sure that Yetta and her family were safe from this serpent that Yetta had seen in her dream.
And, selfishly, he hoped to see his son one last time.
“D AMN . I THOUGHT Detroit had a lot of cars and motor homes, but this place is a freakin’ zoo,” her passenger observed. “Why would anyone live here?”
Grace put on her blinker to turn onto Las Vegas Boulevard. The Strip, as it was known throughout the world. She’d circled around the back of McCarran Airport’s industrial and business park to give Nikolai a bit of a tour, but so far, he didn’t seem too impressed.
“Good question. Maybe you should ask one of the seven thousand new arrivals to Clark County—every month.”
Grace didn’t know why she took his rhetorical question so personally. Usually—at least whenever she got stuck in traffic—she agreed with his assessment. But something about this man got to her.
Good thing he isn’t my type, she thought. She’d already done tall, blond and gorgeous—and had paid dearly in the tender of a broken heart. Shawn Bascomb taught her that shoulders made for portaging canoes over rocky shoals were not necessarily broad enough to carry a relationship of any substance.
Grace had been so sure that Shawn, a self-professed ski bum with a penchant for white-water rafting in summer, had been the one from the moment they met. Although he’d proven as reliable as the seasonal snow he lived for, Grace had been determined not to give up on her errant prince.
After graduating from Mesa State College in Grand Junction, she found a job in Ouray, Colorado, to be near Shawn, who gave ski lessons at Telluride. Grace took her responsibilities seriously; she had a need to excel at her job. Shawn partied. Kate, who was working as assistant chef at one of the resorts, heard all the rumors Grace had turned a deaf ear to. She finally told Grace, “Face it. Shawn’s a frog, and no amount of kissing is ever going to change him into a prince.”
“So, is it safe to say that you like living here?” Nikolai asked, leaning forward slightly as they passed the Welcome To Las Vegas sign, which she’d just read was one of the most recognizable icons in the world.
Startled out of her time warp, Grace stepped on the brake for no reason, soliciting a nasty honk from the car behind her. Flustered but determined not to show it, she said, “Yes, I do. Most of the time. Vegas is several cities in one. You have this,” she said, indicating the canyon of hotels they were approaching. “Touristy glam and lots of jobs, but if you cross over the freeway andhead west, you hit Red Rocks and Mount Charleston. See that snowcapped peak?”
He looked around her to where she was pointing. This brought him close enough for her to breathe in his scent. A wholly masculine smell of leather and aftershave that made her mouth water.
Swallowing, she hastily inclined her head in the other direction. “Go that way and you run into Lake Mead and Boulder City. Hoover Dam. Well worth the trip. And sprinkled in between are neighborhoods, like the one my family lives in, which have a kind of small-town feel.”
She checked to see if he was listening. His presence filled the car. Not just his body, but his energy. Something about him was edgy and exciting. He seemed attuned to what was going on around him. He probably never zoned out, she decided. “Most locals don’t come down here unless
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