LITMIR.BIZ

      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

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