Not since Sarah Larson had broken his heart. Not since he’d begun volunteering for every dangerous undercover op he could. Not since he’d decided life wasn’t worth playing it safe. Now? He’d heard Sarah had been divorced for almost a year, and hadn’t had a man in her bed since. That was about to change. The look in her eyes told him she knew it. So did the way she tried to shut her door in his face. His hand shot out, slamming against the wood to stop it from closing. Through the opening, her gaze flickered over his shoulder, no doubt taking in the black leather seat and gleaming curves of his favorite motorcycle. It was a far cry from the shiny Mustang he used to drive before he’d left. Less show and more muscle. Not exactly something the sole heir to his father’s flourishing textile business was expected to be driving. That just made him like it more. Luke had returned to Palm Springs despite Sarah, not because of her. He’d been fresh off a lengthy undercover assignment with the Demon Guardians, a notorious biker gang that had been terrorizing Northern California, when his socialite mother had called him, begging him to visit his father before it was too late.
