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Dancing in the Dark

Dancing in the Dark by Gracie McKeever
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A spoiled rich debutante is seriously injured in a reckless motorcycle accident. Will she get rid of the chip on her shoulder and stop wallowing in self-pity long enough to let her physical therapist rehabilitate her? Can her physical therapist leave behind a disreputable past riddled with addictions and betrayal long enough to let his charge help him heal? Follow Sharise and Cayle's story and find out what happens when classes collide.
Awe-Struck Publishing; February 2000
168 pages; ISBN 9781928670766
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Title: Dancing in the Dark
Author: Gracie McKeever
"Cayle? Get up. It's six o'clock."

What the hell was she doing interrupting his beauty rest when he had only fallen asleep an hour ago? Damn, he hadn't felt this bad since his Jim Beam days.

He'd tossed and turned for hours last night, drunk on another chemical besides alcohol: adrenaline. He'd finally given in to exhaustion near dawn.

And here in the tiny annoying flesh, merciless and wicked, was the auburn-haired succubus at the root of his insomnia.

"Cayle?" She tapped his shoulder then reached for the comforter. She tugged and he burrowed deeper. Sharise sighed, tried again, to no avail. "Well, if you're going to be so stubborn about it..." She wheeled herself back towards the door, stopped when she heard him mumble into his pillow.

was that you just said to me?" Sharise whirled, headed back. It had sounded like he'd said "What a bitch". Okay, granted, she had been at her bitchiest with him before. But what gave him the right to keep throwing it in her face?

Cayle flung the covers off his head, sat up and met her glare with his own. "I said, how rich. Now you're finally eager and ready to work when I'm wiped-out."

"And why, pray tell, are you wiped-out? Late night partying? Sneaked in a girl after curfew?"

"When do you want to start, Cayle? We have to eat and I'm sure I can't do what you have in mind on a full stomach. We need time to settle, digest-"

"All right, all right." He lurched from the bed, stumbled past her to the bathroom and banged the door closed.

Sharise listened as he ran the shower, sat back in her chair and smiled, pleased with herself. She didn't know what it was, but there was something about him that made her want to get under his skin, although this hadn't been her original intention when she'd barged in. She'd only been anxious to start.

That kiss, she thought. That had been meant to get to him too. Show him who was boss, knock him off-kilter. What it had accomplished was the opposite. She'd unsettled herself.

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