Games Demons Play (Mystic Isle, Book 3) (19 page)

“Jules is up,” Sebastian
said and headed toward the sound. Even though he saw nothing out of
place, he knew that the walls around his estate didn't keep out
reporters, tourists, and the occasional woman, desperate for a
wealthy husband. His sharper wolf senses took over as he slipped
into his bedroom and looked around. It was just as he'd left it. He
saw nothing but rain through the window, but his keen ears could
hear someone breathing.
He exited his room and moved toward
the front of the house. His brother, Jules—still in furry form—was
in the large foyer.

“You take the back,” Sebastian told him and
headed for the front door.

The wide front porch wrapped all the way
around the house and he quickly made his way to far side that ran
the length of his bedroom. The rain beat on the roof above his
head, drowning out his footsteps.

The blonde peering into his bedroom window
never heard him approach.

“Can I help you?” he asked mildly when he was
within pouncing distance. Shrieking, she whirled to face him,
backing up at the same time. Her hands came up to balance herself,
but it was too late. He made no move to rescue her even though he
could have. Her momentum toppled her over the railing and into the
soggy grass below. She landed flat on her back.

From the edge of the porch, he stared down at
her not feeling the least bit sorry for startling her. What did a
man have to do to get privacy?

Her wheat colored hair covered her face and
the rain slowly soaked her clothes. She seemed too startled to
move. Finally, she eased up on her elbows. Her breasts heaved and
fell as if she might start crying. The last thing he wanted was a
crying woman. Or a lawsuit.

“You all right?”

With a perfectly polished hand, she flicked
her hair out of her face and glared up at him. The blue eyes that
locked with his couldn't have surprised him more if there'd been
eight of them.

Amanda St. James. Alive and in his yard.

Couldn't be. He narrowed his gaze and took in
her features. Same cute pixie nose. Same rosy, heart-shaped mouth
he'd longed to kiss. Same delicious curves that his hands itched to
caress.

Suddenly he was transported a decade ago when
they'd all been hanging out on a hot summer day. It had been
August. Suffocatingly humid. Then Amanda had grabbed the hose and
proceeded to drench him and his brothers to the bone. Her kissable
mouth had laughed and smiled as they'd chased her. When they'd
finally caught her, turning the hose on her, the water had
plastered her clothes to her sweet young body.

It had taken all his willpower not to carry
her off that very afternoon. To kiss her all over—from that
adorable nose, to those delicious berry pink lips, to her hot pink
toenails.

The clap of thunder brought him back to the
present. His eyes didn't fool him. He sniffed the air and her scent
filled his lungs. She smelled so sweet, so familiar, and so
wonderful that he almost closed his eyes to savor it. Instead, he
took in her pitiful form. She looked like a drowned cat. He watched
as the rain molded her shirt to her breasts. Either from cold or,
heaven help him, desire, her nipples beaded beneath the fabric and
stood out like pebbles.

He clenched his fists. Long dormant need
surged upward startling him with its intensity. Its rawness. He
hadn't seen or heard from her in nine long years but he’d never
stopped wanting her. It was the reason he dated a long stream of
women, never settling down. He’d never felt this kind of urgency
with anyone else. Although he'd tried to wipe away her memory, none
of them could compare to Manda. His Manda.

But her presence now reminded him of how
she'd fled all those years ago. She'd gone off to Yankee country
for school. Then she'd gone on to work for one of the biggest
broadcast companies in the country. Never looked back. Never
called. Simply fled. Ran from him.

His inner beast had been too proud to let him
chase. Had been sure she'd come back in a week or two. Weeks had
turned into years and now almost a decade. Now the beast growled
deep inside, for the years he'd lost, for making him want her so,
making him wait. It lay coiled, anxious and ready to spring to life
and take what it wanted.

He crossed his arms over his chest, trying to
keep the dangerous animal inside on a tight leash.

“Well, well, well. If it isn't Amanda St.
James.”

An action movie buff with a penchant
for all things supernatural and sexy, Selena Blake combines her
love for adventure, travel and romance into steamy paranormal
romance. Selena’s books have been called “a steamy escape” and have
appeared on bestseller lists, been nominated for awards, and won
contests.  When she’s not writing you can find her by the pool
soaking up some sun, day dreaming about new characters, and
watching the cabana boy (aka her muse), Derek. Fan mail keeps her
going when the diet soda wears off so write to her at 
[email protected]

Visit her online at
http://www.selena-blake.com
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Series: Stormy Weather

The
Cajun’s Captive
(erotic paranormal romance novella)

Bitten in the Bayou
(paranormal romance novella,
ménage)

Seduced by a Cajun Werewolf
(formerly Bound &
Determined, erotic paranormal romance, long novella)

Mated to a Cajun Werewolf
(erotic paranormal
romance, long novella)

Stranded with a Cajun Werewolf
(erotic paranormal
romance novel)

A
Cajun Werewolf Christmas
(paranormal romance short
story)

Series: Mystic Isle

Fangs, Fur & Mistletoe
(erotic paranormal romance novella)

A
Werewolf to Call Her
Own (erotic
paranormal romance novella)

Games Demons Play (erotic paranormal romance
novella)

Anthologies

Stormy Weather anthology
(5-in-1)

Stormy Weather Collector’s Edition
(5-in-1, plus
interviews, deleted scenes and more)

Double The Pleasure
(2-in-1, ménage edition)

Surprising Darcy
(short contemporary erotica
ménage)

Just a Little Taste
(short contemporary
erotica)

Ready & Willing
(erotic paranormal romance
novel)

Series: Deep Space Encounters

Reclaiming Isis

Rescuing Natacha

Azula’s Rebellion