Short Excerpt

“You should’ve kept running, Emma.”
  Fear raced through Emma Chastaine’s system as the man straddling her chest pressed the knife into her throat. She didn’t want to die. Shaking her head slightly, she forced herself to see through the shadows, past the black ski mask, to pick up on the slight infl¬ections in her attacker’s voice. In vain. Her heart pounded too loudly behind her ears, her breath strangled as it sawed in and out of her chest. Air struggled up her throat against his weight on her chest. There was only pain, the slight pinch at the base of her neck where the blade cut into her, the pressure building in her lungs. A tear streamed from the corner of her right eye into her hairline.
  “Now, beg.” He leaned into her, a hint of salt and cigarettes surrounding her. The man who’d broken into her small rental cottage on the beach lifted the blade, scooping the tears from her face onto the flat surface. “Beg for me to let you go. Beg for your life.”
  This wasn’t happening. This wasn’t real. She’d only done her job. Her heart threatened to explode straight out of her chest. Something slipped down her neck—blood?—and she fought to control the outburst of sobs clawing up her throat. She’d only done her job, and now they wanted her dead. But she wasn’t going to beg. Wasn’t going to give her killer the satisfaction. Shutting her eyes tight, Emma curled her fingers into fists. Her dad had taught her how to defend herself. She’d spent a huge chunk of her childhood on the mat with him before he’d left. She just had to calm down. Had to remember. Her attacker had pinned her arms beneath his knees and sat on her chest, but her legs were free. “No.”
  The word growled from between her lips.
  His dark eyes widened, the knife faltering in his hand for the briefest of seconds.
  Emma didn’t wait for another chance.