The Untamed Beast
Kate Donovan

MILLS & BOON®

www.millsandboon.co.uk

MILLS & BOON

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Table of Contents

Cover Page

Title Page

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Copyright

CHAPTER ONE

Rick Diaz strode into the glitzy bar of the Crystal Hotel with two objectives. He needed to escape the reality of his new and tortured existence for a few hours. And he needed a woman—any woman.

Apparently, he had come to the right place.

His gaze surveyed the possibilities, hoping to find someone who looked worldly enough to ease his lust without activating his conscience. He hadn’t always been the type of guy to exploit women, but in the past few months, he had grown into a different sort of man. Or rather, a different sort of animal.

Oddly enough, women responded to the animal even more than they had to the regular guy. He had had good luck with females his whole life, but largely because he had treated them with respect. Now, that sort of behavior seemed counterproductive. It could lead to a relationship, and Rick wouldn’t curse any woman, however shallow, with that particular fate.

A tall blonde in a tight red dress caught his eye, and he prepared to make his move. Then he hesitated, distracted by the young woman standing to his target’s left. She was medium in height and build, with soft brown curls that framed a pretty face. And while she was clearly aware of Rick, she wasn’t making eye contact, and he knew why.

He scared her a little. Her instincts were working well, warning her to stay away from creatures like him.

So go for the blonde, he advised himself, but the pretty girl continued to intrigue him. There was something very familiar about her. Was it possible they had met before, or was that just wishful thinking? She had warm blue eyes, great legs and soft pink lips, and she looked—and smelled—so good. So decent. So normal.

It felt like a lifetime since Rick had had a normal experience, even though he knew it had only been nine weeks. Nine weeks since the changes had begun. Changes he didn’t understand, but even in his ignorance, his gut told him the transformation was almost complete. And when it was over, he’d never have a normal experience—or a normal girl—again.

Didn’t he owe himself this? One last time? Maybe they could even have a real conversation. Some foreplay. Something to remind him he was still human. Still decent.

Assuming, of course, that he was.

“Oh, my God, Jane,” Megan O’Neill told her best friend in a frantic whisper, “I know that guy. Or at least, I used to. Not that he’d remember me in a million years, and not that he looked like that back then—”

“He definitely remembers you,” Jane said, using the same hushed tone. “Wave to him or something.”

Megan tore her attention from Rick Diaz long enough to roll her eyes at her friend. “Are you kidding? He was always out of my league, but now he actually looks like another species.”

It was true, and it didn’t bother Megan a bit. There had been a time when hooking up with Rick Diaz had been her finest fantasy, but she had grown up since then. Plus, she was still reeling from the mistake she had almost made with Stephen. The only reason she came to the Crystal Hotel on Thursday nights—aka Ladies Night—was to keep Jane company, and to remind herself that there was a whole world waiting for her once she was ready to rejoin it.

Meanwhile, she wouldn’t have missed this for the world. Watching the dangerously hot hunk from her past burst into the bar like he was about to hold them all hostage had definitely been worth the cost of a margarita. There was something so primitive yet paradoxically evolved about him, from his shaggy black hair to his spectacular build to his riveting black eyes. And that expression—confident, unconcerned, but focused, at first on the women in general and now inexplicably on Megan.

Jane dug her fingernails into Megan’s forearm. “He’s coming over here. Lick your lips and forget about Stephen. Now!”

As Megan stared in disbelief, the powerfully built male strode toward her, his dark eyes fixed on her face as though nothing else in the world mattered. Then he was there, and for just a moment, his expression softened into a mesmerizing smile.

“Hey,” he murmured.

“Hi.” She gave him a goofy grin, conscious that her cheeks were turning pink. “You’re Rick, right? I’m Megan—Annabelle Anderson’s roommate from USC. And this is Jane.” She gestured to her left. “She’s my best friend.”

The hunk’s focus didn’t waver. “I thought you looked familiar. Let’s go somewhere and talk, okay? There’s a coffee shop on the second floor. Or we could sit out by the pool. I’m sure it’s deserted at this hour.”

His voice was so deep, so rhythmic, Megan almost forgot to respond. She just wanted to listen to him. To stare into his eyes. To do whatever he wanted, whenever and wherever he wanted to do it.

The fantasy was definitely back.

“Meggie,” Jane whispered, nudging her with her elbow. “Go on with Rick. I’ll be fine alone. You know how much you love the sundaes in that coffee shop.”

Rick leaned toward Megan, so close that his breath heated the skin on her neck. “Come on, Meg. Let’s get some dessert.”

“Okay.” She forced herself to exhale. “Can you go grab us a table? I need to stop in the restroom on the way. To freshen up.”

“You’re perfect the way you are,” he told her. Then he leaned in again, and this time, she was sure he was sniffing her neck—literally, like an animal might do. It made her quiver with excitement.

“I’ll be there in two minutes. Try to get a seat by the window,” she added, imagining how amazing he would look in the moonlight. Like a wild creature waiting to be tamed.

“Don’t be too long,” he advised. Then he flashed a sexy grin, turned and strode out of the bar.

The women stared after him in silence, until Jane managed to whisper, “Oh, my God, Meggie. Are you even breathing? I’ve been hit on a thousand times, but never like that. Why didn’t you ever tell me about him? He’s gorgeous! Did you see those eyes?”

Megan nodded. “He was always good-looking, but now…”

“Just get going! Have dessert with him. Then have other stuff, if you get my drift.”

The thought made Megan laugh, and finally, the spell was broken. “I hope you’re kidding. I’m not ready for the new and improved Rick Diaz.”

Jane dug into her purse for one of her emergency condoms, which she pressed into Megan’s hand. “Now you’re ready. Get going, please? If you don’t do this, I won’t be your friend anymore. It’s too perfect to pass up.”

Megan grimaced. “It does seem like…well, like a once-in-a-lifetime sort of moment.”

“It’s fate.” Jane gave a melodramatic sigh. “It was so devastating for you, having Stephen die one week before your wedding. It’s almost like you couldn’t recover without something to jolt you out of your grief. And trust me, this guy is just the jolt you need. So get going before some coffee-shop waitress hijacks him.”

Megan nodded in reluctant agreement, then murmured, “Wish me luck,” and headed into the lobby. On her left she saw the glass elevator that would take her to Rick. On the right, the double doors leading to a row of taxis parked in front of the hotel.

Just go home and watch TV, she told herself ruefully. That’s more your speed, right?

Jane would be disappointed in her and would assume she’d gotten cold feet because she was mourning Stephen. It wasn’t quite true. Yes, she felt bad about her dead fiancé, but not because she had been so madly in love with him that his death had left a gaping hole in her heart. Just the opposite, in fact. She had realized, one week before the wedding, that sweet, dependable Stephen wasn’t the right man for her. Sure, they had loved the same movies, devoured the same favorite foods, laughed at the same stupid jokes, almost to an uncanny extent. It had seemed like a sign that they were meant to be together always. But there was no passion between them, a fact that had become achingly clear when, during her shopping spree for sexy lingerie for the honeymoon, she had realized he’d either be amused or touched—or maybe even secretly annoyed—by so impractical an expense.

Not exactly the response a bride looks for.

So she had resolved to break the engagement, but before she could, news of his fatal accident had reached her, and she had gone numb with guilt and confusion.

And had stayed numb for almost a year, until tonight, when Rick Diaz—in all his beastly glory—had jumpstarted her senses. She wondered if it would last, or if she would revert to her old self by morning. Either way, she would be grateful to him for giving her a taste of animal magnetism. For sniffing her neck and sending her nerve endings into orbit. For proving to her that she had been right about Stephen, after all—that passion was something worth having.

Just have it with a regular guy, not a scary stud, she advised herself as she fumbled for her wallet, double-checking that she had cash for a cab.

Then a powerful form stepped out of the shadows, blocking her path.

Startled, Megan looked up into Rick’s smoldering eyes and gulped. “Oh…”

“You’re ditching me?” To her surprise, he gave her an understanding smile. Then he stepped closer. “Don’t be afraid, Meg. I won’t hurt you. I just need to spend some time with you.”

“I’m not afraid. Not really. I just…”

“Yeah, I know.” He leaned down, inhaling even more insistently than he had in the bar. “It’s okay to be confused. I’m confused all the time these days. But this feels right, doesn’t it?”

“Yes,” she admitted softly. “That’s what’s so scary.”

“Come on.” He took her by the elbow and led her toward the elevator. Once inside, he wrapped an arm around her waist while pressing the button for the sixth floor with his free hand.

“I thought we were going to the coffee shop.”

“We’ll talk later,” Rick murmured. “We need to do this first. I see that now.”

“We need this,” she echoed, confused but also aroused.

“Yeah.” His lips descended to her neck, burning her skin with kisses, torching the air with tension. She knew they were on display for anyone in the lobby to see, but she didn’t care. All that mattered was the feel of him, so she slipped her hands behind his neck, laced her fingers through his shaggy mane and kissed his mouth eagerly.

He responded with a long, low growl. Then he pressed her against the glass wall and slid his hand under her blouse as though intending to undress her right there. But when the doors opened, his strategy morphed, and he swept her up into his arms and carried her to his room like a groom might carry a new bride. Except with Rick, it was more like a warrior bringing a conquest back to his encampment.

They burst through the door, and in an instant he had her up against the wall again. This time, she knew he wouldn’t stop until they were both satisfied. Her senses were reeling, her mind engulfed with desire, her body primed for pleasure, but still she pressed her hands against his powerful chest and insisted, “We need to use protection.”

“Huh?”

“I have something.” She fished Jane’s condom from her pocket. “See?”

He stared at it, a grin spreading slowly across his face. “Yeah, let’s do it nice and proper. Right? We’ll even use the bed in honor of the occasion.”

Megan gulped as he lifted her again and threw her onto the king-size bed. Then she stared in hungry admiration as he stripped off his clothing, revealing the most perfectly toned and muscled body she could ever imagine. Heat radiated from him, and even before he stretched over her, her muscles were pulsing, her nerve endings on fire.

Then he took her with a fierceness she had never dreamed possible, satisfying himself at the same moment that he brought her to the brink of ecstasy and then beyond it into oblivion.

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