Tiger Speed Dating: BBW Paranormal Weretiger Romance Page 9

  To Bed A Goddess

  The Last Siren

  The Donor

  The Alien King and I

  Dangerous Curves: Wet

  Lions of the Serengeti: Jennifer’s Lion

  Lions of the Serengeti: Sarah’s Lion

  Bound to Me: Fever Lust

  Private Sessions

  Lions of the Serengeti: Caly’s Lion

  Faerykin

  Werebeasties

  Dragon Hunts

  Night of the Lions

  Chain of Lust

  Taken By a Nymph

  Maiden and the Lion

  Dominate Me with Noelle Ashford

  To Blackmail a Billionaire with Noelle Ashford

  Her Dragon Billionaire

  Kidnapped and Claimed

  Her Tiger Billionaire

  Raven’s Bride

  Her Lion Billionaire

  Bad Dick

  Naughty Librarian

  Lions of the Serengeti: Yazmina’s Lion

  Naughty Boys

  Scorched

  Tamed

  The Man with the Dragon Wings

  Tiger In Her Bed

  Hot Like Fire, Cold As Ice

  Animalistic

  My Boss is a Lion

  Fairy Godlover

  Wicked As He Comes

  Tiger Speed Dating

  SPECIAL PREVIEW:

  WICKED AS HE COMES

  One

  John Alexander vowed he’d never fall in love again. He’d never let his heart get stolen. And he’d never let himself get tied down by that miserable institution called “marriage.”

  Never, never, never.

  And yet, the moment he laid his eyes on her, the only thing he could think about was how amazing it would be to have her as his woman. His true mate. His one and only.

  The darndest thing was, she suggested exactly that.

  His beautiful blackmailer was on the tall side—two inches shy of six feet, with sun-kissed skin and brown hair that just barely touched her shoulders. Her body was ample and delectable; one of her hands rested on her curvy hips as those hazel eyes of hers bore into him. Her white shirt was a bit tight around the chest. Her voluptuous breasts seemed to be threatening to bounce out of her bra. The outline of her undergarments were etched in to the cotton fabric, and John had a fertile imagination.

  Black.

  She wore a black bra underneath a white shirt. It took a brave girl to pull that off.

  She had to have been in her early twenties; her face had a youthful glow. And at that very moment, she was looking at John with resolution, as if she really were the one who held the power in this situation. Her big, beautiful, almond-shaped eyes glinted with a determination that he hadn’t seen in another person in a long time. Someone with purpose.

  Jesus.

  She was brave; he’d have to give her credit for that. John wondered if she knew who he really was. He wasn’t human, and his tiger side could tear her apart on a whim, but really, there was a very different way he wanted to ravage her. On all fours. On her back. Against the wall. In the shower…

  His cock stirred underneath his chinos at the thought.

  John cursed silently. When was the last time he got so turned on by a woman he’d just met? A whiff of her scent and a glance at this Amazonian beauty made his alter beast frisky.

  His tiger wanted her.

  Wanted her very, very badly.

  “You know, babe,” John mused, “threatening your customers probably isn’t the best way to get a good tip.” He crossed his legs and peered up at her while twirling a lock of his long hair around a finger, a smile playing across his lips. He kept it cool to hide the devastating effect she had on him. It almost put him off balance. Usually, he was the one with the charismatic control over the opposite sex, not the other way around.

  This woman… was fucking special.

  “Sorry to disappoint you, but I don’t make threats,” the waitress coolly replied, putting away her ordering pad and taking a seat across from him. “I simply presented you with an offer that would benefit us both greatly. Well, mostly me.” She had a refined accent that didn’t mesh with the uniform; she even carried herself in a dignified and elegant manner, atypical to the other women milling around.

  Is she really a waitress? John wondered.

  The little cafe he’d chosen to dine at this morning was rather busy with fellow tourists. It had been a nice weekend in Las Vegas thus far. John occasionally traveled to Vegas for a little unwinding time after the closing of a big Broadway production. He and his partner produced a modern take on Shakespeare’s King Lear, complete with an all-star cast, that was very well received by critics and fans alike. He and Alessandro planned to produce a new show next month, but before that, he thought a relaxing weekend in Sin City might help him unwind.

  Things had ended up a little differently.

  John studied her expression. “Is that so? Bringing up the entirely false and unsubstantiated claim that I’m having an affair with my own co-producer’s wife sounds very much like a threat, I’m afraid,” John went on, raising his eyebrows and folding his hands on the table.

  Unfazed, she produced something from her apron. “Would you call these unsubstantiated?” the woman challenged, and John’s eyes narrowed as she slid a number of photographs across the table.

  Each one of them was a picture of John Alexander with Maya DeLucca’s lips pressed against his, her hands clenched on the collar of his oxford shirt, her hips pushing up into his groin. These photos were recent—taken from the after party of the Broadway debut of King Lear. It had been a lovely party, up until the moment in the photographs in front of him. Now it was the waitress’s turn to fold her hands and wait for John’s move.

  John knew to play it confident, so he arched an eyebrow and gave a little smile. “So you have a shot of Allessandro Severo’s wife, yet again, trying to seduce me. Do you know how many times she’s tried the exact same thing before that picture?”

  “No, but I think photographic evidence would be hard to ignore. The tabloids love this kind of scandal, whether it’s true or not. Sex sells.”

  John’s face was unflinching. The woman’s boldness only made him desire her all the more. Here was a woman with both a curvaceous body and a cunning mind. He knew his instincts had been right.

  She was interesting. A worthy opponent.

  “I’d like to know how you got those photos,” he said, laying a finger on one of them. “Did you follow me from New York? Because I don’t think you’re local. Desert weather doesn’t agree with you.”

  She looked a little flushed. Her cheek reddened and perspiration beaded on her forehead. John didn’t think it was because she was nervous.

  “How I got them is none of your concern,” the waitress said. “And while you might insist there’s nothing between you and Maya, I gathered that night that Maya herself might tell a very different story if this were to go public.”

  Shit, John grumbled silently. She’s got me there.

  Maya DeLucca had been hungry for him since they had been introduced. John wasn’t interested in her in the slightest; there just wasn’t anything about her body (or all the work she’d had done to it) that made John desire her. She came from money, was a mediocre actress at best, but most importantly of all, she was married to his partner, Alessandro Severo. It was common knowledge their union was motivated more by business than anything else. Maya was a third of Severo’s age when they tied the knot. She married him for his fame and connections, and Severo married her for her money and to enhance his image with a trophy wife.

  John was naturally a flirt, and it got him into trouble more often than not, so it must have driven Maya mad when he didn’t show any interest in her. But truthfully, it was for his co-producer’s sake that he had kept his distance. He had one golden rule: never get involved with a married woman, a creed he obediently practiced since his teenage years.

  So, John said nothing, watching the waitress care
fully, and a moment of silence hung between them.

  In any other case, he would have dismissed the whole ordeal with the blink of an eye, but two things held him back. First, he and Allessandro had just begun collaborating on what was turning out to be a multi-million dollar project, even larger than the last production had been. If something were to come between he and Severo now, it would mean drastic debts for John to the tune of twenty million dollars.

  And second, the woman trying to game him was drop-dead gorgeous, and he wanted her.

  “So this isn’t a threat,” John mused, uncrossing his legs and leaning back, putting an arm over the back of his chair. “It’s blackmail. Enough games. Who are you, and what do you want?”

  The woman smiled, and the way her lips moved as her eyes glittered with mischief, John wanted to kiss her on the spot.

  “My name is Jane Eyre Sinclair, and like I said earlier, I want you to marry me.”

  So she wasn’t kidding. The statement hit John like a shot to the chest, and his heart pounded with triumph.

  Fucking unbelievable.

  “You…”

  “Yes,” she said as he trailed off, “I mean it. I want you, John Alexander, to be my husband.”

  John watched Jane’s face carefully, and now in her eyes, he started to see the telltale signs of fear. She became terribly nervous, and he couldn’t imagine how hard she must have trained herself to make such a demand in an even tone.

  “I know your reputation,” Jane went on, “you’re a playboy, a flirt, and you’ve said over and over again that you’d never let someone tie you down. But I’m desperate and I need to get married and it has to be you—”

  “I accept.”

  And just like that, John turned the tables right back on her, leaving a shocked expression on her face. How do you like that, sweetheart? His tiger growled in agreement.

  Jane opened and closed her mouth, lost for words.

  “What’s the matter? Were you expecting me to put up more of a fight? Didn’t think you’d make it this far, did you? I said ‘I accept.’ I’ll be your husband.”

  She looked even more bewildered than she had before.

  This was just too much. John put on a show to throw her off-guard, but there was no question about what the beast within him, the beast that was part of him, knew and demanded.

  This woman was going to be his.

  John didn’t want to think about what his siblings would say. The youngest of all the brothers, he had always thought of himself as having the wildest heart. He’d been fiery and untamed from the moment he set out on his own. How many times had he teased his oldest brother Quinn for tying himself down? Something in the back of his mind wondered what Quinn would say to him now, but in the moment, nothing mattered except keeping this woman in his life.

  As his piercing eyes held her entranced, he moved his hand across the table and took one of hers, bringing it to his lips and kissing her fingers gently. “So, darling, when would you like to make this official?”

  * * *

  Jane felt her face going red as he reached over and kissed her hand, his thumb rubbing against her palm as he held onto it after. She hardly even heard the words that came out of his mouth.

  John Alexander had to be the most gorgeous man she’d ever laid eyes on. He was tall, with dark skin and the most brilliant green eyes she’d ever seen. He sat there in his chinos and white button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his muscular forearms, and his long, dark hair tied back with just a single lock falling free in front. He looked like he could own the world if he wanted to, with his easy confidence and charming smile.

  And he’d just agreed to marry her.

  She still couldn’t believe what she’d heard. Much less that she’d even made it this far.

  While it was true that John was the most attractive man she’d ever seen, it wasn’t out of pure lust that she’d done all of this, that she’d arranged for those compromising photos to be taken, and then tracked this LA producer all the way to Vegas to blackmail.

  The Alexander family name meant something. And for Jane, that something meant protection. With someone like John as her spouse, Jane would be safe.

  But even with him, there was a different kind of danger to deal with. Jane knew exactly why those piercing green eyes of his had the power to render her so immobile, so helpless before him, even as she practiced steeling her will against him with all her might.

  She knew that under the handsome veneer of a wealthy and enterprising producer, John Alexander hid a feral side. No, it was more than feral. John was one of the cryptids. Supernatural beast in human skin. And this beast was a dangerous one, a true predator in the wild. There was a true tiger within him, something that at once overwhelmed him and was totally under his control by sheer force of will. And she’d just made a demand of that beast.

  Not many people were aware of them, but they did exist. Her brother George had a talent for detecting those people. In fact, George was the one who told her that John was more than just an ordinary man. It was a bit of a surprise when that knowledge became an invaluable form of leverage. If John declined to marry her, she planned to blackmail him with his furry little secret…

  Never in her life had she imagined involving herself with the cryptids and so far, she counted herself lucky she had made it this far.

  Finally, she found her words again.

  “I’d like to get married immediately,” she said, her voice unsteady. “This is Las Vegas; I have the marriage license application in my bag. The Clark County office opens until midnight. We’ll take a cab from here and go together. But I must warn you, those pictures can go public with a push of a button, if you’re thinking of trying anything to get out of this.”

  “Okay. After that?”

  “You can go back to your vacation, and I’ll go back to my family. I’ll call you later.”

  In reality, she had no intention of calling; not unless she really really, really had to. All she needed was the marriage certificate to get Uncle Alfred to back off. The Alexanders were the biggest investors in the Benedict’s family business. Once she married John, she’d have the Alexanders’ protection. Her uncle would think twice before he tried to harm her younger twin siblings again. George and Harry were her world and they were in danger. She had no qualms stooping this low if it meant she could provide a safer environment for her brothers.

  John let out a mirthful laugh, and she felt the color rising to her face again. Was this just some kind of game to him? It was rumored that all of John Alexander’s escapades in Hollywood had made him more than a few friends in the underground. He may have come off like a debonair and easy-going kind of guy, but there was no question in her mind that he was far more cunning than he ever let on.

  “Well, we should probably get a move on,” he said, standing up and laying a hundred-dollar bill on the table, paying for what little he’d eaten before Jane showed up. She stood up with him, but was a little spastic, and she nearly stumbled as she rose.

  He caught her, helping her get her footing again, as she wobbled and looked at him warily.

  This close up, Jane realized just how much taller he was than her. Her head could practically rest on his chest.

  “Save it for the first dance, babe,” he said with a wink as if he could read her mind, and Jane moved away quickly, huffing.

  A few moments later, after hailing a cab, they clambered into the car. Jane’s eyes were firmly on John, but he seemed as at ease as though he were on an ordinary date.

  What the hell is going through his mind?

  “Where to?” the driver asked over his shoulder.

  Jane started to open her mouth to name the wedding chapel she had in mind, but John spoke up first.

  “Haute Bridal on Durango, please.”

  Jane looked over at him incredulously. “What are you doing?”

  “Well, if we’re going to be married, you can’t walk the aisle without a wedding dress, can you? And we’ll al
so need rings!”

  He sounded serious, but Jane knew that was a show for the driver. John meant to tease her about this as much as he could, if it was going to happen.

  John pulled out his phone and called someone; it sounded like he was making a reservation. When he finished talking, he pocketed his phone and shot her a charming smile.

  They rode for a while until the cab pulled up at a fancy bridal boutique. The sign said closed but as they get out of the taxi, a woman hurriedly opened the store. Obviously John had some sort of connection with the owner. From its window, she could see the ready-made wedding dresses hanging on the racks; it was obvious that this was the kind of place that catered to eloping couples like them.

  Couples.

  Jane almost laughed at herself for thinking of them as a couple as they headed towards the store. This was an unorthodox arrangement, to put it politely. But she had to admit, as he held the door open for her, John was doing a remarkable job of acting like everything was real.

  Jane’s plan hadn’t accounted for actually making a show of getting married. She found herself taken aback by the dresses that surrounded her, and she felt more than a little exposed in the server uniform she’d worn to approach John.

  The shop was small, but fully stocked with vintage designer wedding dresses, jewelry, and accessories. A few items caught her attention, but when she checked the price tags, she was immediately disappointed. Even second hand, the items still commanded ridiculously high prices. It felt like money wasted for a sham wedding.

  “You look like you haven’t given much thought to your taste,” John said as he led Jane into the back of the store, where they displayed even more gowns.

  “Bussing tables for a living doesn’t give you much room to,” she admitted ruefully. “Neither does trying to push a few paintings.”

  “A painter?”

  “A starving artist, actually.”

  John’s eyes seemed to sparkle with intrigue. “You’ll absolutely have to show me—but there’s no time for that just yet. Once we get back to New York, I can’t wait to learn everything about you.”