Excerpt
"Jessy jerked awake, a sharp gasp catching in her throat, choking into a cough. For a moment she forgot where she was, unable to adjust her eyes to the dark. The temporary disorientation terrified her.

“Who's there?” she rasped, voice too weak to sound tough or confident.

He stepped into a slant of light from the motel sign and Jessy instantly recognized him. Seat 2A: the guy who had snuck stares at her over the top of his book for the last three hundred miles like she was the featured attraction at a freak show. He’d introduced himself as Michael Clayton when they’d boarded the bus in Illinois, then asked if he could use her empty overhead compartment for his multitude of luggage. He’d gone a little overboard Christmas shopping, he’d explained with a way-too charming grin that had immediately set off her insincerity alarms. Jessy had given him a vague smile and tuned him out after that. With her throat still bruised and aching from Charlie's attack, she hadn’t exactly been in the mood for polite chitchat.

Stifling a groan, she turned on the seat light and wearily glared at him: dark hair dusted with snow; piercing gray-green eyes; wide, slightly smirking smile. Now she remembered why she’d kept her distance from him: he was too damn good-looking. And if there was one thing she trusted even less than a drinking man, it was a handsome man."