"A man burned by previous relationships falls for a restless, rootless woman..."
Reviewed by Rachel Williams
Posted October 19, 2014
Western | Romance
SLOW HAND takes place in the wide open spaces of Montana;
and as Nicole Powell arrives from sunny Georgia, she
quickly
realizes that she is out of her element. Nikki has
received
notice that her long estranged father has died, and as his
only relative she must plan his funeral. She runs into a
series of problems before she can even reach her
destination
of Twin Bridges, Montana, however; and a cowboy at the
airport helps her out of her predicament. Unbeknownst to
Nikki, the cowboy is none other than the lawyer who will
be
handling her father's will.
Wade Knowlton is on his way home from a meeting when
flights
are disrupted due to the weather; and gallantly gives up
his
seat to Nikki. After arriving and discovering that Wade is
the lawyer she is to contact, another issue rears its
head.
She has lost her wallet, with all of her ID and credit
cards. Wade, being the gentleman that he is, personally
guides her through the process of restoring her identity
and
provides her a place to stay. It doesn't hurt any that he
has taken a fancy to Nikki and wants to get to know her
better.
As Wade and Nikki spend time together, the attraction
between them grows. Nikki, having been involved in a long
string of failed relationships, plans to take care of her
business and leave; but thinks a little flirtation with
the
good-looking lawyer certainly can't hurt anything. Wade
takes Nikki home to his family ranch to stay, and then on
a
trip up the mountain to look for stray cattle. When they
are
forced to spend the night in a cabin on the mountain,
their
casual friendship comes to a head. Can Nikki bring herself
to trust this cowboy with her heart when so many other men
have let her down?
SLOW HAND is historical romance author Victoria Vane's
first
foray into contemporary romance. The research into the
inner
workings of the cattle industry, as well as the vivid
imagery of the Montana backdrop sets the storyline apart
from the average romance tale. SLOW HAND is a meaty,
sprawling family saga; as well as a tentative romance
between a man burned by previous relationships and a
restless, rootless woman. The flirty banter between Wade
and
Nikki is deliciously wicked, the sexual tension thick, and
the love scenes steamy. The well fleshed out secondary
characters and subplots of SLOW HAND leave the reader
eagerly anticipating the next story in the series; that of
Wade's contentious brother Dirk.
Victoria Vane has already achieved indie triumph with her
excellent historical romances. SLOW HAND may well be the
vehicle for her to attain mainstream success with an
established publisher. The rich storyline and vibrant
characterizations serve to make SLOW HAND an intense and
satisfying read. There are several twists along the way to
keep the reader guessing as to where the storyline and
romance will go next. SLOW HAND is a quite gratifying
read;
enjoyable and highly recommended.
SUMMARY
In rural Montana... Wade Knowlton is a hardworking lawyer who's torn between
his
small-town Montana law practice and a struggling family
ranch. He's on the brink of exhaustion from trying to save
everybody and everything, when gorgeous Nicole Powell walks
into his office. She's a damsel in distress and the breath
of fresh air he needs. Even the lawyers wear boots... Nicole Powell is a sassy Southern girl who has officially
sworn off cowboys after a spate of bad seeds-until her
father's death sends her to Montana and into the arms of a
man who seems too good to be true. Her instincts tell her
to
high tail it out of Montana, but she can't resist a cowboy
with a slow hand...
ExcerptWade raked his hand through his sandy hair with a curse.
“Damned vegan tree-huggers will destroy our entire state
economy.”Iris rolled her eyes as if anticipating a full-blown
tirade. “Be back in a jiffy.” She winked at Nikki as she
slipped out the door. Nikki grinned. “I take it you’re not a card-carrying member
of the Green Party?” “No.” His gaze narrowed and brows pulled into a frown.
“You’re not one of them I hope.” “Who me?” Nikki shook her head. “No, sir-ee, I’m a live-
and-let-live Libertarian and a longtime omnivore. My
grandparents had a chicken farm in Lavonia. I betcha didn’t
know Georgia is the country’s biggest chicken producer.” “No, ma’am.” His shoulders visibly relaxed. “I didn’t, but
then I’m not a big chicken fan myself.” She let her gaze travel over him in a slow appreciation of
his tall, lean, muscular frame. She guessed he stood at
least six-three in his boots. “I suppose not,” she said.
“It would be only prime grass-fed beef and Idaho potatoes
for you.” He crossed his arms over his broad chest and leaned on the
door frame studying her. “Miz Powell, if I didn’t know
better, I’d think you were undressing me with those pretty
blue-green eyes of yours.” A guilty flush infused her face but she refused to give him
the advantage. She opted for a strong offense instead. “So
what if I was? Weren’t you quite fixated on my ass at
Denver airport?” He raised a sandy eyebrow. “You noticed that, eh?” His
confession came with a shameless grin attached. She jutted her chin. “Quid pro quo, Counselor. What do you
say to that?” He approached her slowly, the smile in his eyes
transforming in a blink to a wicked gleam. A gleam that
promised very bad things. His reply sent a warning signal
to every nerve in her body. “I’d say, why just use your
eyes?” Dear God, he was trouble with a capital T. He closed the space between them in two long strides.
Instinctively, Nikki backed up as many steps—but her ass
hit the desk. Before she realized what he was about, he’d
caught her hips and lifted her onto it. He held her hostage
with his gazed locked on hers, his arms braced on either
side of hips. “There’s something real interesting going on
here,” he remarked at length. Nikki swallowed hard, her gaze wavering. “I already told
you I’m not interested. I don’t do casual hookups.” “You think that’s what this is about?” “Isn’t it?” she asked, intentionally blithe. He shook his head. “Hell, I don’t know. Maybe. I’d be lying
if I said I didn’t feel a damn powerful attraction to you.” She’d never had such a strong reaction to another man
either. All he had to do was look at her to get her pulse
racing and her insides quivering. And right now he was too
damned close for comfort. She shifted backward, trying to
create some distance, but there was nowhere to go. “Don’t you have to be in court soon, Counselor?” she
reminded him in a voice that came out breathless. “Yeah, I do,” he replied. “Guess I got a bit sidetracked.
You’re turning out to be a big distraction, you know that?” She bit her lip. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be such an
imposition.” “I said a distraction not an imposition. There’s a big
difference. I didn’t realize until now just how badly I’ve
needed such a distraction.” He stepped away with a
reluctant sigh. Her pulse still hammering in anticipation, Nikki exhaled
the breath she hadn’t realized was trapped in her chest. Wade spun toward his office. “Help yourself to the phone
and anything else while I get cleaned up.” He paused again
on the threshold. “Of course, you’re welcome to use my
office if you need greater privacy.” He added over his
shoulder with a look of devilment. “Or in the event any
wild impulse overtakes you while I shower.” He went to work on his shirt buttons. His collar was soon
wide open revealing a generous show of muscular chest that
make her hands itch to rip it off him. She diverted her
gaze and curled her itchy hands by her sides. “Have no fear, cowboy,” Nikki replied in a tone meant to
disguise the warm flush that had come over her. “I
corralled all my wild impulses long ago.” “Did you, now?” He still stood in doorway, head cocked.
“Somehow, I think you may have missed a few strays.” “Maybe I need to make myself clearer. I have an aversion to
cocky cowboys.” Just keep telling yourself that, Nikki. Maybe if you repeat
it often enough it’ll become true. “Is that so?” His brows flew upward. “I can’t say I ever
met a woman with an actual aversion to me.” “Don’t take it personally. It’s nothing against you in
particular, but to your type.” “And what do you think you know about my type?” “Since I don’t have a pole handy, enough to keep you at
arm’s length. Besides that, this whole line of conversation
is entirely inappropriate in light of professional ethics,
don’t you think? You are my attorney, after all.” “Well, darlin’”—he scratched his unshaven jaw—“there’s a
little hitch to that.” “What do you mean? You said you’d help me.” “And I will, but you can’t engage my professional services
until I know who you are.” “I’ve told you who I am!” she insisted. “Sweetheart, I’m a lawyer, and according to the law, your
claim don’t weigh without authentication.” “Authentication?” “Proof.” “So what are you saying? That you don’t believe me?” “I’m not saying that at all. Only that our professional
relationship will commence once you get your ID. In the
interim”—his gaze slid over her in a way that threatened to
melt her insides—“you’d best find yourself a nice, long,
sturdy pole.”
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