Born To Be Bad by Crystal Green

Author:Crystal Green
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2005-12-15T00:00:00+00:00

THE FOLLOWING NIGHT AT TWO o’clock, Damien drove his Galaxie around the Quarter with a blindfolded woman in the passenger seat.

Gem. The next journalist on his list of people to fool.

He glanced at her again as the street lamps bathed her in passing illumination. Wisps of her light hair brushed against the silk material covering her eyes. She clutched a handle on the door, fisted her other hand in her lap.

Clearly, she hadn’t expected this when he’d promised to show her his “world.” Hadn’t expected her teasing, fantasy flirtations to translate into something far more serious.

Earlier, after she’d reported to work, Damien had asked her to meet him in his office after hours. Then he’d brought out the blindfold, capturing her sense of sight while he whispered naughty promises in her ear and drove her to Dante’s Basement.

A “sex club” that would be in business for this night only.

Though the house he was using—another property he owned—wasn’t far from Cuffs, Damien wanted her to think the location was far away, ultrasecret. A danger to anyone who could reveal its whereabouts.

So, as he finally pulled to the curb on Dauphine Street and cut the engine, he left her blinded, helpless.

Without a word, he got out of the car, went around to her side and guided her out. Just the smoothness of her hand against his was enough to stir up the never-ending lust in his mind, the ache in his groin. As he shut Gem’s door and turned her to face the front of his property, he caught a whiff of her lemony perfume.

Once again, his body clutched in on itself. Needing. Keening to be inside of her.

And he intended to be tonight.

“Are we here?” she asked, moving as if to take off the eye cover. She was breathless, maybe even a little too afraid for such a big-girl reporter.

Though something feeble in him wanted to hold her safe—useless, that emotion—Damien would nevertheless manipulate her. He had no choice in the matter.

Vising her wrist in his grip, he stopped her from removing the blindfold. “Wait,” he said, soft and low. “You’re here by my pleasure, Gem, and I don’t want you to find your way back.”

He glanced up at the slim four-story house, its wooden facade painted in baby-blue with navy shutters. Iron chairs, barely visible through the white wooden railing, rested on the galleries. The windows were naked, curtainless. Damien had ordered the lace removed for now, knowing that the street withstood frequent traffic and faced a popular hotel across the way.

Gem would soon find out why this would matter.

As he led her inside, a song by Edith Piaf floated through the incense-laced air. The French lyrics added to the exotic atmosphere he’d wanted to create in Gem’s mind. Little would she know that this downstairs floor was furnished with a time-faded chandelier, musty velvet couches and scarred walnut tables.

A former hotel parlor.

An abandoned building—not a sex club.

So many lies he was going to tell to her so he could survive, Damien thought.

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