Billionaire Wolf. Karen Whiddon

She clutched his hand, hoping he’d have an explanation.

      “Who’s the new woman, Ryan?” One man shouted. “Can you give us a name?”

      New woman? Maria blinked.

      “TMZ here,” yelled another. “Care to make a statement or answer a couple of questions?”

      Ignoring them, Ryan shepherded her back up the stairs and into the house. Once inside, he methodically began closing all the blinds, one by one. He didn’t seem fazed or even bothered, almost as if he was used to this sort of thing.

      Maria, however, could barely catch her breath. She stood frozen, shocked and stunned, watching him.

      When he’d finally finished, he turned to face her. “I’m sorry about that,” he said, flashing that boyish grin. “I’d hoped that wouldn’t happen. Now that the paparazzi know where I’m staying, they’ll be staking out the place.”

      Pulse still pounding, she held her hand to her throat, trying her best to contain her agitation. “Paparazzi? Why on earth were they here? What did they want?” She inhaled deeply. “Or maybe the better question would be, who are you, really? If you have paparazzi, then you must be someone famous. What did I miss?”

      For the space of a heartbeat, he held her gaze. Once again she felt that tug of attraction. This time, she ignored it.

      Finally, he dropped his gaze and dragged his hand through his hair. “You really don’t know who I am, do you?”

      “No.” Wrapping her arms around herself, she tried not to despair. For once, just once, she wanted something to work out. “Who are you?” Hoping her expression didn’t reveal her nervousness, she waited for him to answer.

      Instead of immediately answering, he got up and went into the kitchen. “Would you like a water or a glass of orange juice? Sorry, I don’t have any coffee. I haven’t had time to stock the house.”

      “What I’d like,” she said, staying put between the couch and the door, wondering if the crowd of reporters still milled about outside, “is an explanation.”

      “Just a sec.” When he returned, he brought with him two bottles of water. “Here,” he handed one to her. Though the feeling of dread intensified with every second he delayed answering, she accepted and took a small sip.

      “Well?” she prompted. “I’m beginning to think I might have made a terrible mistake.”

      Beginning to think might have been an understatement. In fact, the longer she sat there, the more every instinct screamed at her to leave. As one of the last remaining female Drakkor, two things had been drilled into her since childhood. The first had been her destiny. The second had been the need for anonymity. Whoever he was, Ryan appeared to embody the opposite.

      “A mistake?” The small lines at the corners of his bright blue eyes crinkled when he smiled. Where before she’d found his assured self-confidence attractive, now it worried her.

      Every movement casual, he perched on the edge of the couch, looking even more handsome.

      “Here.” He handed her a magazine from under a stack of several on the coffee table. “This will do a much better job of explaining than I can.”

      Stunned, she stared. “Your face is on the cover,” she said faintly, feeling sick. Now she understood why he’d seemed vaguely familiar. Even though she generally avoided pop culture, she’d have to have been living under a rock not to recognize this face, this man. Especially with the words Ryan Howard—America’s Most Eligible Billionaire Bachelor emblazoned across the front.

      “Thank you.” She put the magazine down without reading it and swallowed hard, avoiding his gaze. “I’m sorry. I’ve made an awful blunder. Don’t worry about escorting me back. I can find the way. In fact, I’ll just let myself out.”

      And she did just that, feeling both relieved and perversely peeved when he made no move to stop her.

      When she reached the bottom of the stairs, more flashbulbs exploded and the paparazzi materialized, shouting questions, asking her name. Instead of answering, she kicked off her high heels and, barefoot in the sand, began to run.

      Heart pounding, Maria ran, easily settling into the familiar rhythm. Before long, the paparazzi fell behind, abandoning the chase. Though she missed her running shoes, and the heels she carried kept bumping her leg, she kept on until the reporters were completely out of sight before she slowed to a walk. She’d lucked out; she hadn’t hit anything sharp or dangerous, like shards of glass or the jagged edge of a broken seashell.

      Stopping long enough to slip her shoes on, she strode back toward the now closed bar. Instead of going inside, she located her car, a vintage turquoise Corvette, and got inside. The engine fired up with a satisfying throaty roar, and she heaved a big sigh as she headed home.

      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.

Chapter 2

      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