Catch My Breath
Lia Meyers' plan for a relaxing Scottish vacation is short-lived when one uncharacteristic moment of clumsiness lands her in the arms of her very own Knight in Shining Armani…The perfect opportunity for a much needed holiday romance? Wrong! Lia’s still reeling from the mother of all bad breakups, and she really doesn't have the patience for Alastair Holden – despite his effortless charm and cute British accent!Arrogant and totally inscrutable, he's exactly the sort of guy she wants to avoid but can't: the man behind the mystery proves just too tempting to resist.Drawn to him, Lia is forced to battle with her own insecurities, and the closer they become, the more she recognizes her own weaknesses as she peels away his layers with every night they spend together. Discovering the past Alastair is so desperate to conceal, Lia must decide if they can heal one another together or if their deepest fears will tear them apart.
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Contents
Iâm a former TV news writer who took the plunge and finally wrote a novel. I know, right? Insanity. Prior to jumping into novel writing, I spent the majority of my career working in radio and television as a promotions director, writer and associate producer. I love any job that is challenging and creative.
I grew up in a small town in Rhode Island before spreading my wings to discover this great, big world. Traveling, like writing, has become a necessary part of my life. My favorite place is and always will be London. Itâs my home away from home.
For now, Iâm a displaced New Englander hanging my hat in Northern California. If you can see me through the fog, wave hello.
To my family and friends, for always being my biggest supporters and loudest cheerleaders.
And to my passport (yes, my passport), for opening up the world and introducing me to my favorite place on Earth.
âAmelia Grace Meyers. Naptime is over. Letâs go. Weâre getting picked up at seven for the benefit. I donât want to be late.â
The blankets were unceremoniously ripped from my body, destroying the warm cocoon Iâd wrapped around myself. I sat up with a start, blinded by the bright light spilling from the bedside lamp. Grabbing the blankets, I flopped back onto the mattress.
âYouâre mean,â I whined into the pillow, trying to figure out what the hell my best friend was talking about. And more importantly, where I was. I opened a sleepy eye and saw Stephanie Tempe, all perfumed and primped, standing at the foot of the bed. Oh right. Scotland.
âWhat time is it?â I yawned.
âQuarter past six. Get up.â
I crawled out of bed, shooting a half-hearted glare in her direction. Why I agreed to go to this event with her tonight was beyond me. I stumbled toward the bathroom, deftly avoiding the suitcases that were scattered in a schizophrenic maze on the floor. Iâd been in Glasgow for twelve hours and still hadnât technically seen the outside of this room. Who knew jet lag could be so vicious?
Twenty minutes - and a furious effort on my part to look presentable - later, our heels clicked in unison on the marble floor in the hotel lobby.
âYou totally set a new record for getting ready,â Stephanie remarked as we waited for our ride. I nodded, yawning. When the black Land Rover arrived, I curled up on the seat, watching the streets of Glasgow streak by in a blob of color.
My brain finally sprang to life as I stepped onto the sidewalk, marveling at the hectic, excited energy surrounding me. I didnât get dazzled easily, but this was shaping up to be a fun night. The stunning Victorian building glowed under the bright lights as scores of men and women dressed in their finest suits and gowns chatted amongst themselves. I stood in place, smitten with the old world charm of the city.
I knew I was smiling a bit too much, giving away my status as a tourist, but I couldnât help it. The way the old buildings mingled with eye-popping steel and glass structures reminded me of New York. Only this version had a Scottish accent.
Taking a few steps to my right, I nearly stumbled off the curb. I steadied myself on the backend of a gray Mercedes SUV. Wake. Up. I tried to see if anyone was inside to witness my less than suave move, but couldnât make out anything through the dark tint.
âCome on, Lia. Darrenâs waiting for us inside.â Stephanie waved, immersing herself in the twinkling aura of elegance and waltzing toward the main doors. I snapped out of my daze and followed her.
We passed through a grand entrance hall with small domed ceilings covered in tiled mosaics. I was struck by the two massive staircases flanking either side. One was made out of white Carrara marble, while the other was a deep red. Multi colored and gold veins swirled around the staircase, giving it a darker, more alluring feel.
As I walked up the white marble stairs, I felt a twinge of disappointment that the other one led to a different part of the building. All that rich color seemed much more exciting.
We navigated our way through the crowd and found Darren MacCourty leaning against the bar. He looked rather dashing in a black suit and tie.
"Steph! Lia! You made it.â He engulfed Stephanie in a giant bear hug and swung her around a couple of times. After he put her down, he gave me a quick peck on each cheek.
"You ladies look gorgeous. Can I offer you something to drink? Thereâs champagne, wine and something called a Kilted Knight.â A Glaswegian accent danced around his words, much to my delight. He was our one-man welcoming committee for our extended Scottish vacation.
