Message From The Author

Author's Message

Christina Skye Writes The Perfect BRIDGE OF DREAMS

Meet Cathlin O'Neill, the heroine of Bridge of Dreams, my May release from Avon. Smart, stubborn, and vulnerable, the beautiful American is about to find her world turned upside down. She has just inherited a case of rare vintage wine worth two million dollars, you see. Yes, two million.

Of course, there is one tiny catch. (Then again, maybe 6'4" isn't so tiny.)

Interested in mayhem, danger, and one very haunted English abbey?

For An EXCERPT Read on...

"I'm fine, okay?"

"Like hell you are."

Cathlin just looked at him. His eyes were smoky and his body was rigid. He looked angry and frustrated and determined to protect her-even from herself. And Cathlin was tempted to give in and let him smooth the way, like the grade-A professional he was.

Only she knew this was all temporary. One day she'd wake up and find him gone, off to Tashkent or Bogota or Timbuktu.

Just like her father.

"Forget it, Macho Man. I'm just fine."

"Your hands are shaking and you can barely see straight, O'Neill. I don't intend to die from your reckless driving. Move over."

Now that the adrenaline rush was fading, Cathlin felt a wave of numbness climb up her legs. A tear inched down her cheek, but she shoved it away.

Dominic pulled her against his chest. One tear worked into two and then far more, but she made no sound. He held her anyway, feeling the heat of her tears on his shirt, feeling her soft breasts wedged against his chest, feeling her stiffness and her fury. His jaw went hard with a jolting wave of desire, but he fought it back and only held her, one hand sliding beneath the warm shadow of her hair. When she finally pulled away he found a tissue and held it out. She gave a defiant sniff and pulled away to blow her nose. "Drive. I'll be fine."

Dominic saw there would be no more tears and shoved the Jeep into gear. But all he could think of was Cathlin. The way she'd forced her chin up, utterly brave. The way she left him hungry and hard and crazy to kiss her.

And in doing that, he violated the first and oldest rule of his profession: a bodyguard never, ever let it get personal.


Cathlin insisted on taking the wheel, and Dominic finally agreed.

But driving didn't keep her from facing the truth.

Just as she'd feared, he had gotten too close. The man was making her remember, making her feel things she didn't want to feel. She was scowling up into the rear view mirror when two headlights loomed out of the twilight.


"I see them. Ease into second and get ready to turn."

"You're joking, right?"

"Eighty percent of all professional kidnappings take place from cars, O'Neill. This is no bloody joke. Just hold it steady. If we have to ram them, we will."

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