Billionaire Wolf
The billionaire shifter meets his match… Ryan Howard is a billionaire playboy and powerful shifter who, some say, is driven by carnal desire. But after one unforgettable weekend aboard his yacht with Maria Miranda, Ryan finds himself in an unfamiliar position. For Maria is the one who just walks away.As one of the last of the Drakkor dragons, Maria’s sole duty is to get with child – even if it means surrendering her body to a sexy stranger. She isn’t ready for a man like Ryan. But when she’s kidnapped by a merciless Drakkor, Maria must face her greatest fear to claim a future.
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âAre you all right?â1
Ryan made no attempt to hide the fact that he wanted her. Maria could see that the darkness of his eyes and every shadow in his perfectly chiseled face all attested to his desire.
âYes,â she said as she slipped off her high heels and carried them, so she could walk barefoot in the sand.
âAre you sure thatâs safe?â he asked.
Tilting her head up at him, Maria smiled. âI love the way sand feels between my toes. You should try it.â
To her amazement, he did exactly that, removing his boat shoes. âNice.â
When he took her hand, she couldnât suppress a tiny cry at the contact. A hot ache grew in the back of her throat, making her realize what theyâd all said would happen was true. Desire, want and need had the potential to morph into so much more.
âMaria?â He turned to her, and swept her into his arms. She felt her body soften as her curves molded to his hard, muscular body. Her skin tingled from the touch of his hands as his long, elegant fingers caressed her arms.
And then he kissed her.
KAREN WHIDDON started weaving fanciful tales for her younger brothers at eleven. Amid the Catskill Mountains, then the Rocky Mountains, she fueled her imagination with the natural beauty surrounding her. Karen lives in north Texas and shares her life with her hero of a husband and three doting dogs. You can email Karen at [email protected] or write to her at PO Box 820807, Fort Worth, TX 76182, USA. Fans can also check out her website, www.karenwhiddon.com.
As always, to my beloved husband, Lonnie.
Contents
Maria Miranda had always liked her nameâalmost as much as she loved the sea. The melodic sound of the six syllables always made her smile. Even now, trying to fulfill the destiny sheâd been given, a walk along the waves did much to soothe her frustration at her repeated failure.
All her life, sheâd taken great pains to hide her beauty. Until now. Sheâd just turned thirty, and her father and the Drakkor Council had grown impatient. The time had come to accomplish what sheâd been born to do. Somehow. So far, nothing had been as easy as it should be.
Another Friday night. Sheâd decided to give this place one more shotâhow could she resist a bar called Sea Dragon? She took the same seat at the bar as she had the previous two Fridays and swiveled to face the crowded nightclub. Women shot her envious and sometimes downright hostile glares, while the men couldnât seem to tear their eyes from her. Not for the first time, she found herself aching to scoop her hair back into an unflattering bun and slip her oversize, tortoiseshell glass onto her nose.
Lookinâ for love in all the wrong places...
Despite the hip-hop music blasting on the nightclubâs speakers, the old eighties song kept running through her head. As she got up and gyrated on the dance floor with yet another handsy, overly self-confident man, she wondered why on earth sheâd ever thought coming here would be a good idea.
Because desperation fueled her, thatâs why. Some women talked of their biological clock ticking. Well, hers had gone into overdrive. Not just because she yearned for a baby, but because her entire raceâs survival depended on it. Unfortunately, for her, getting pregnant was a bit complicated.
Breathing a sigh of relief as the song ended, she gazed into her escortâs eyes and tried to imagine letting his lips touch her. Nope. Not feeling it. So she thanked him and turned to go. When he grabbed her arm, she pulled free, gave him a donât-you-dare-try-that-again glare and headed back toward the bar.
Immediately, several other men jostled each other, clamoring for her attention. Ignoring them all, she raised her hand to signal the bartender, but someone stepped in front of her and ordered a drink for her, his treat.
âNo thank you,â she said, her voice clear and cool. And discouraging. Who knew men would think that if a reasonably attractive woman came to a bar alone, it was a signal to a bunch of hungry sharks to begin a feeding frenzy?
At the lame analogy, her inner Drakkor licked its chops. Of course, the fact that she actually had come here for that reason made the irony even more delicious. And painful.
Though she wished she could be outside strolling near the waves crashing up against the seawall, she finally ordered her own drink. The bartender brought it and three more. âFrom the gentlemen there, and there, and over there,â he said, rolling his eyes.
âNo, thanks,â she said again, pushing them away. The pounding beat of the music had begun to make her head ache. Once again, she surveyed the room, feeling out of place and unsettled. More and more she had come to realize that trying to meet someone in a scene like this didnât work for her.
