Layla Martin makes her living exposing all the wicked little secrets of the rich and famous. Exposing Jordan Gaines, the mysterious millionaire, is exactly the break she needs.
Jordan has spent his entire life protecting a dark secret—he’s a phoenix shapeshifter, one of the last of his kind. When he finds Layla hiding in his home after he shifts, he offers her a deal—he won’t call the police if she spends one night in his bed.
Layla believes she’s stumbled onto the story of a lifetime. Jordan thinks sleeping with Layla will discredit any exposé she plans to write. Neither expects the hours of unrelenting, primitive passion, the fast bond that forms between them or their fierce desire to keep the night from coming to an end.
Again when she touched him, it was as if a magnetic sexual current washed over him in waves. Her touch got him hard every time her hand moved over his skin? He’d known the woman all of five minutes. This wasn’t possible.
“Give me one good reason.” His eyes trained on her mouth, noticed that even without the adornment of lipstick, it was a juicy red. When her tongue slid over her lips again, he tracked the movement and instinctively wished her tongue were washing over his dick instead.
“I…I wanted to…wanted to…”
He hung up the phone and faced her. “I know what the Tattler publishes. What did you expect to find when you broke into my home? Me, involved in some type of sex fetish or BDSM games?”
Even in the dim light, he saw a flush coat her cheeks before she lowered her head.
Jordan laughed as he moved around her and strode to the chest of drawers in the right corner of his room. “But that’s not what you found, is it? Now you have something much more and you expect me to let you walk out of my house and tell the world what I am?”
He opened the top drawer, pulled out a pair of soft and worn cotton pajama pants. “But if I call the police, tell them I caught you in my house and they arrest you, how credible will your story be then?”
She looked up and frowned and began to twist and twine the poor little black shirt all over again.
“They’ll assume you’re either a stalker or one of the many reporters I’ve spurned over the years out for revenge.”
Not that each and every one of them didn’t deserve it. After his guardian was ruined because of one simple byline, one slipup, he knew he’d never put himself in the same position. He’d never expected one of them to be so bold as to break into his home.
Now he had to do some damage control. That’s what he paid a publicist for but even she couldn’t get him out of this shit. No, he’d have to take care of this little scandal all by himself.
“What will your editor say to you? What will he ask?” He pretended to ponder this. “Where’s your proof? Did you get a picture? Did I admit it? Your answer to all those questions will be a resounding…” He paused for effect. Her brow began to narrow and her lips pursed. “No.”
“But I know what I saw,” she whispered.
“That may be so but you have no proof, Layla,” he said quietly before stepping in front of her again, towering over her small, voluptuous frame. “Your word against mine? You know who I am? You’re going to tell the world that I’m a shapeshifting phoenix, with absolutely not one shred of proof?” He shook his head. “I don’t think so.”
Jordan reached up and caressed her from just below her ear, around her cheek to her pouting lip. Her tongue darted out to lick him and she gasped, stepping back, her eyes widening with disbelief.
Right then and there, he knew exactly how he was going to play this little game with Ms. Layla Martin. He advanced on her again but when she stepped away, the backs of her legs met his bed.
Although he hadn’t seen a wedding ring on her finger, he asked anyway. “Are you married?” Not that he gave a damn. But he might as well get it out of the way.
“No,” she said, shaking her head back and forth as she took short, shallow breaths. Her voice was low and slightly husky and so damn sexy it made his dick jump.
He could see her pulse thumping in her throat. Being this close to him unnerved her. Her body caused every wicked thought he could conjure to roam around his brain. She was a very beautiful woman, after all. Even though she was dressed completely in black, he could still appreciate her generous curves, the luscious breasts, the very round bottom he’d cupped earlier. One very decadent, sexy package.
His fingers tingled with the desire to remove the band from around the ponytail she wore and slide through her thick hair before he gripped the back of her head and moved his mouth over hers.
But that was impossible.