Billionaire Wolf. Karen Whiddon
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Disaster averted. While she had to admit that Ryan Howard appealed to her more than any other man she’d ever met, he was also a public figure—and a known playboy. She didn’t have time to waste on a man like him. Not with the clock ticking. In fact, the kind of man she needed to find would be his polar opposite.
As usual, the throaty purr of the Corvette’s engine soothed her. One finger at a time, Maria loosened her death grip on the steering wheel. That done, she squared her shoulders and inhaled deeply. She wished...
No. If wishes were fishes, this dragon would eat. She’d made an error, plain and simple. Her foolish, rose-colored glasses had made her see something that hadn’t been there. One hot man and she’d nearly melted. There’d be someone else. There had to be. She had a destiny to fulfill. And soon. She couldn’t permit herself to make this type of mistake ever again.
Not only had she allowed herself to believe a notorious playboy might be The One, but she’d risked becoming a public spectacle, and there was a certain person who could not know where to find her. Even though Doug Polacek had been imprisoned, no one knew if he had people working for him on the outside.
For right now, she’d consider herself safe unless she learned differently. She thought of the life she’d built here in Galveston, the business she’d started and loved. She’d worked hard to make her wedding chapel successful, and she knew if she had to leave the area, leaving her business would feel like ripping out a big piece of her heart. Not to mention her need to live near the ocean.
But just as she always did, she’d continue to do what she had to do. This thing with Ryan Howard would blow over quickly so she could go back to her simple and quiet life.
Pulling into her driveway, she sighed. Her tidy frame house on a quiet residential street seemed the opposite of everything she’d just endured. After clicking the opener, she pulled into her garage, killed the engine and closed the door.
One more deep breath. As she removed the keys from the ignition, she realized her hands were shaking. Of course they were. She never, ever gave in to impulse like that. Until last night, she’d had her lists and her reason and had lived her life accordingly. Responsibility had always been her hallmark. How awful to think the one single time she’d veered from this course and acted spontaneously, she’d made such a horrible mistake.
Mentally berating herself, she got out of her car. High heels clicking on the concrete, she headed inside.
She dropped her keys onto a dish on the kitchen counter, headed into the bathroom and eyed herself in the mirror. With her color high, her normally smooth olive skin looked flushed. Her eyes were suspiciously bright, making her appear as if she might be on the verge of tears, even though she wasn’t. Maria never cried if she could help it. Crying was for wimps.
Shaking her head, she washed her face, pulling her wild mop of dark hair back into a semitidy ponytail. From now on, she’d go back to ticking things off her list.
Despite her resolve, her thoughts kept returning to the night before. The lovemaking had been...sublime. And Ryan had been just as gorgeous and sexy as he appeared on TV or in the tabloids. A Shifter too, part of the Pack, which put him a notch above a simple human, at least in her book.
Ah, well. Best to put him from her mind and continue her search. If she wasn’t successful in finding a man to father her child on the island, she might have to broaden her parameters.
Never again would she allow lust to overrule reason. Too much was riding on this for her to make another mistake.
* * *
Up until the moment the sultry temptress bolted, Ryan Howard hadn’t been entirely sure what to think of Maria’s declaration of ignorance. In his experience, ever since his face had been plastered over numerous magazines and television interviews, women had been dreaming up increasingly inventive ways to get into his bed. There were, according to his research, only 513 billionaires in the United States. He figured he was part of a tiny percentage of them who were single. Women, usually attracted by his money, flocked to him. He’d grown so weary of the tall tales they told to get close, he’d begun to use the quality of the story as a criterion to send the woman away.
Maria’s beauty combined with her lack of guile had ignited a slow burning fire inside him. He’d actually allowed himself to think that once, just once, he could enjoy a casual relationship with a woman without artifice or deviousness.
When she’d recoiled at the sight of his face on the cover of Persons Magazine, he’d realized she’d been telling the truth. She really hadn’t known who he was. She’d based her decision to leave the bar with him on something else, and the idea so astounded him that he understood how truly jaded he’d become.
He’d known immediately from her aura her true nature as Shape-shifter, though he hadn’t been able to tell what kind. All he knew was that whatever she might be, she wasn’t Pack. When the flashbulbs had gone off, for a split second she’d fought her inner beast to keep from shifting. Watching her instead of the paparazzi, he’d been curious to see what manner of creature she’d reveal.
At the last minute she’d gotten herself under control, of course. This mechanism was one of the first things all Shape-shifters learned as soon as they were able to change. Living among humans, secrecy had become paramount. The last thing any of them needed was to be caught on television morphing into something else. In fact, to do so was a sentence punishable by a swift and violent death.
Shaking his head, he drained the last of his water and picked up her still-full bottle. Why had she run away? What exactly had scared her the most—who he was or the attention he garnered?
Briefly, he considered going after her, but the knowledge that the reporter-wannabes would have a field day stopped him.
Hopefully, once she’d gotten over the shock and calmed down, everything would be okay. He definitely planned to give her a call. Because, despite the mind-blowing sex they’d shared the night before, he still wanted her. Craved her, in fact. The knowledge that she’d wanted him, too, until the paparazzi had ruined it, made his blood boil with frustrated desire. They could have gone to breakfast and then returned here. Right now, they should have been wrapped in each other’s arms, making love again.
Instead, he found himself alone in his new vacation house, a virtual prisoner of the paparazzi.
Which meant he’d either need to get used to it or find another place, which would be stupid since he’d just paid cash for this one. So he’d adjust, like he always did. Still, being located so quickly was pretty damn disappointing.
When he’d bought this house, he’d been careful. Everything had been done under the name of an LLC he’d formed for real estate investments. Only he or his personal assistant Timothy had dealt with the Realtor and title company. Accordingly, he’d been pretty confident he could live here for a few weeks completely under the radar. He still had no idea how they’d found him.
Walking into that nightclub with the cool name—the Sea Dragon—might have been a mistake. Since he’d been recognized there, someone must have alerted the media. He and Maria had one peaceful night. Those damn flashbulbs and video cameras had been waiting here in the morning. Pacing