Sex & The Immortal Bad Boy

by Stephanie Rowe

  He glared at Rafi. “Don’t you need to go somewhere?”

  “Yeah, I do actually.” Rafi looked a little frustrated. “I have a promise I need to keep, but I appear to be stuck guarding the gate now that it’s open. Can’t leave.” He rapped a fist on the stone. “Traded one damned prison for another.”

  Before Jed could ask what the promise was, Paige’s hands slid around his waist, and he turned back to find her beaming up at him. “Men are so dense sometimes.”

  He frowned. “Didn’t you hear me? I’m human. I’ll die, leaving you alone, and you’ll have to be my bodyguard.”

  She grinned. “First of all, you’re a total badass in human form, or did you already forget laying out all those men at Yankee Stadium? That was hot.” She licked her finger, then trailed it down his chest, as if she were setting it on fire. “Shadow warrior thing wasn’t so hot, because you were invisible, so how could I appreciate all your manly muscles flexing like that?” Her palm spread over his stomach, drawing heat to the southern parts of his body. “And, you obviously forgot you took three drinks of Mona when we were trying to heal you from Junior’s torture, didn’t you?”

  He stared at her. He had forgotten.

  She smiled up at him, then stood on her tiptoes so her mouth was hovering over his. “So, basically, not only are you still immortal, but you’re also a total badass who doesn’t need shadow form to do some major damage.” Her breath was warm on his mouth, and he slid his arms around her waist, pulling her tighter against him with a groan. “We both know Junior won’t dare come after either of you guys because he’s too much of a coward to show his face when you guys are free to kill him.” She flicked her tongue over his lips. “And now that I’m embracing my good side, I find I’m strangely attracted to a man who doesn’t kill for a living and who isn’t damned anymore, now that he got himself purified.” She grinned. “Or maybe it’s your washboard abs and your unmatched sexual talents. It could simply be a case of mad lust, I suppose.”

  Rafi groaned. “Okay, you guys can so hit the road now.”

  Jed couldn’t wipe the grin off his face. “So, yeah, I guess I’ll let you declare us married then. Since you know what you’re getting into and you’re okay with it.”

  She jumped up and wrapped her legs around his waist, and he caught her hips. “Take me to bed, man who I love so much, and I’ll show you exactly how okay with it I am.”

  So he did.

  And she did.

  And it was perfect.

  About the Author

  Golden Heart–winner Stephanie Rowe wrote her first novel when she was ten, and sold her first book twenty-three years later. After a brief stint as an attorney, Stephanie decided wearing suits wasn’t her style and opted for a more fulfilling career. Stephanie now spends her days immersed in magical worlds creating quirky stories about smart, scrappy women who find true love while braving the insanity of modern life and Otherworldly challenges. When she’s not glued to the computer or avoiding housework, Stephanie spends her time reading, playing tennis, and hanging out with her own fantasy man and their two Labradors. You can reach Stephanie on the Web at www.stephanierowe.com.

  ENJOY A SNEAK PEEK AT THE FIRST BOOK IN THE EXCITING NEW SERIES OF PARANORMAL SUSPENSE

  by Stephanie Rowe!

  The Order of the Blade:

  The First Seduction

  available in Summer 2008.

  Please see below for a preview.

  Meghan stood in the middle of the one-room cabin, shoving her hands deep inside her jeans pockets to keep them from shaking. There was a utility kitchen in one corner, and a large braided rug covered most of the floor. It was thick, mostly blues and reds. Cozy in a way she wouldn’t have associated with a Calydon warrior.

  Taking up one entire wall was a huge stone fireplace, the kind that made her want to curl up under a comforter in front of a roaring fire, sipping hot chocolate and snuggling with . . . Her gaze flicked to Baden as he flicked the rain out of his dark hair with the swipe of his hand.

  Not him. There was nothing snuggly about Baden at all.

  She pulled her thoughts off him and surveyed the rest of the one-room cabin. A double bed took up most of the remaining space, and a closed door led to what must have been the bathroom. An armoire of roughly hewn boards was shoved in the corner. It looked handmade, and the knotted wood was an extraordinary shade of pine, with almost a hint of red in it. “Did you make that?”

  “Yeah.” He walked over to the fireplace and knelt, throwing a couple huge logs onto the andirons and wadding up some old newspapers that were yellowed with age.

  “It’s beautiful.”

  He lit the fire, and his face glowed as the orange flames leapt into the air, crackling and popping. Then he stood up and turned around to face her, his face hard.

  She swallowed at the utter and complete coldness in his eyes, suddenly wanting to bolt for the door. There was no humanity in this man. None at all. She’d been an idiot to think he’d help her, and she’d realized that the moment she’d been able to see his face in the moonlight.

  She should have left right then, but she’d been too damn cold and wet. She hugged her arms tighter, trying to stop herself from trembling. But even her belly was aching from shivering. She’d been too cold for too long. Oregon wasn’t supposed to be cold in the winter. Warm and rain, not below freezing with the forecast of an ice storm.

  She watched him walk over to the double bed wedged in the corner, a bed made of pine logs lashed together with rope. The same handiwork as the armoire.

  Baden yanked the faded plaid comforter off the bed and tossed it at her.

  She barely caught it with her numb hands, then tugged off her damp jacket and wrapped the quilt around herself, hugging it tightly. “Thanks.” She edged toward the roaring fire until she felt the heat licking at her back, penetrating her stiff muscles.

  He inclined his head. “You were cold.”

  Her belly jerked at his admission that he’d noticed her discomfort, making it impossible to deny the other reason she hadn’t left the minute she’d seen into his eyes: she simply hadn’t been able to force herself to walk away from him.

  He was cold, dangerous, and clearly not happy she was here . . . but it didn’t matter. She was staying. Because she had no other options, and because she simply couldn’t bring herself to leave his presence. Which rattled her severely.

  Baden walked to the kitchen, helped himself to three bagels, and a couple bottles of water. He shoved one of each at her as he walked past, then eased himself onto the edge of his bed, the only place to sit in the room. The faded blue blankets were askew from him ripping off the comforter, and one of the pillows was on the floor.

  He opened his water, took a big bite of the bagel, and leaned back, wincing slightly when his back hit the wall. His body was solid and well muscled as he hooked his arm over the pine headboard. The body of a warrior. There was a scar above his right eye, and his nose looked like it had been shattered more than once, giving him the appearance of a soldier who had endured the worst and come out the victor.

  His blue eyes regarded her coldly. Waiting.

  You have no other options. She willed herself courage, then dragged herself and the comforter across the room and sat down at the other end of the bed. She faced him, tucking her feet up under her to keep her toes from brushing against his heavily muscled thigh. “I’m Meghan Baxter.”

  He narrowed his eyes. “What do you want?”

  She met his gaze, trying to keep the desperation out of her voice. “I need your help.”

  His face grew hard and unreadable, and she flinched at the sudden thread of warning in the air. Get the fuck away from me. The message was clear, and she felt it pushing at her like a hot brand, driving her to jump to her feet and run to the door.

  But she had no choice. She dug her toes into the blankets and ordered her body to stay where it was. “No.”

  He looked confused for a minute. “No, what?”


  “I’m not getting the fuck away from you as you so eloquently put it.”

  Tension snapped through his body, and he jerked upright. “You heard that?”

  “Of course. How could I not? I’d have to be dead not to.”

  He cursed and shoved to his feet with a groan of pain that made her heart tighten. “Are you all right?” she asked.

  He ignored her question, running his hand through his hair in agitation. “How the hell did you hear my thoughts?” He leaned over her suddenly, his hands on the blankets on either side of her hips, his face in her space. “Tell me—” He stopped suddenly, and he bent closer and inhaled. “Fuck. You smell unbelievable.”

  “Your thoughts?” she echoed. “I can’t read thoughts.” Her spine curled at the deep rumble of his voice, at the intensity of his voice, stripping right through her and burning her skin. She immediately leaned back, trying to get away from him, even as she wanted to lean into him, to press her nose against his neck, to inhale the scent that was him. What is wrong with me?

  He cursed and pulled away, jerking his hands back to his sides. His jaw was clenched, with a shaggy beard covering it. It didn’t look like he was wearing a beard on purpose; it looked like he hadn’t bothered to shave in weeks. He was wearing black jeans, an old gray tee shirt, and a hip-length black leather jacket that was creased, battered and ripped to shreds over his left forearm. It looked like it had been worn so much that it had become part of his body. Like it belonged on him.

  He shifted, and a flash of pain crossed his face before he could school them into a neutral expression.

  Concern flared inside her, and she grabbed his hand before she could stop herself, her fingers closing over the roughness of his skin “You’re hurt?” Shock rattled her as soon as their skin touched, and she felt herself falling—

  He growled and yanked his hand out of hers. “You need to get out. Now. I have . . . things I have to do. Someone to find and kill.” He added the last as if trying to scare her, then he spun away from her, grabbed a heavy parka from his armoire and held it out. “This will keep you dry and warm. Now, get out.”

  She stood up and faced him, making no move to take the coat, realizing she probably had about two seconds before he picked her up and tossed her out the door. Here was her moment. Succeed or fail. It was now. “I’m here because I need your help finding my sister.” She couldn’t keep the pain out of her voice, and Baden visibly winced. “She’s missing.”

  His hand went to her face, and his fingers drifted over her cheek with the lightest touch, making her throat tighten. She froze, afraid any movement from her would destroy the moment, drive him away.

  Then he cursed, dropped his hand and strode past her. He swept her backpack off the floor and yanked open the front door. “Out.”

  She didn’t move, digging her fingernails into the palms of her hands at the hostile expression on Baden’s face. His eyes were cold and harsh, a reflection of the Calydon warrior he was. A man who had killed many and never cared. She lifted her chin and let him see the truth in her face as to why she was here, why she’d picked him. “In case you haven’t heard the news out here in the woods, your friend Hecktor was found murdered last night.” He sucked in his breath, but she didn’t let him answer. “I think my sister did it.”

  THE DISH

  Where authors give you the inside scoop!

  A Note to Readers from Paige Darlington

  (SEX & THE IMMORTAL BAD BOY)

  and Marissa Kincaid

  (TO CATCH A CHEAT)

  Marissa: We want to talk to you about liars and cheats. Wait—no—something more positive.

  Paige: Oh, fantastic idea! I’m all about being positive. How about being turned into an evil wraith who answers to Satan? Or about being caught in a turf battle between Satan and his sociopathic son, Satan Junior? No? I guess that still isn’t very positive, is it? Tell you what, you tell me something positive about liars and cheats, and I’ll tell you something positive about being consumed by evil and groomed to destroy the world.

  Marissa: Okay, I’ve got it. Let’s talk about a woman who has been cheated on by every man in her life and is finally going to make them all pay. Yeah, that’s a positive spin on it. Paige: You sound as if you’re speaking from experience.

  Marissa: Who, me? Paige: Okay, to make them pay, what exactly does she do? Because my idea of making people pay—well, we’re probably talking about two different kinds of making people pay.

  Marissa: I—um, she—created a cheater database where women could list the guys who’ve cheated on them in the past and could also check potential dates to see if they’d cheated before.

  Paige: Hmm . . . sounds like a database Satan could use. Brilliant idea.

  Marissa: Yeah, it would’ve been, if the first cheater listed had actually cheated. And if he hadn’t retaliated with his own Web site identifying women who lie. And if he hadn’t put me—I mean, her—as the liar of the month.

  Paige: Oh, wow. I’m feeling your pain, girlfriend. Is he hot? Because if he is, I’m thinking maybe you could have fun making him pay . . .

  Marissa: Anyway, what about something positive about “wraithhood” and Satan? Paige: Well, I guess that it’s helping me organize my career goals. I’ve crossed being an evil being who kowtows to Satan off my list. But I’m thinking I need to hire someone tough enough to handle me and keep me from turning wraith while I try to get things resolved. Marissa: Got someone in mind?

  Paige: Oh, yeah.

  Marissa: Then your problems are solved.

  Paige: Not exactly. Satan Junior’s holding his brother hostage, and Junior won’t release his brother until he delivers the goods.

  Marissa: The goods . . . as in you?

  Paige: As in me.

  Wouldn’t it be nice if life (and wraithhood) were easy?

  So, readers, let our authors know what you think about liars and cheats, Satan (and Satan Jr.), and the men who complicate all of the above or anything else. They love hearing from you!

  Sincerely,

  Paige Darlington, of SEX AND THE IMMORTAL BAD BOY

  By Stephanie Rowe (Available now) www.stephanierowe.com

  Marissa Kincaid, of TO CATCH A CHEAT

  By Kelley St. John (Available now) www.kelleystjohn.com

  Contents

  Acknowledgments

  One

  Two

  Three

  Four

  Five

  Six

  Seven

  Eight

  Nine

  Ten

  Eleven

  Twelve

  Thirteen

  Fourteen

  Fifteen

  Sixteen

  Seventeen

  Eighteen

  Nineteen

  Twenty

  Twenty-one

  Twenty-two

  Twenty-three

  Twenty-four

  Twenty-five

  Twenty-six

  Twenty-seven

  Twenty-eight

  Twenty-nine

  Thirty

  Thirty-one

  Thirty-two

  Thirty-three

  Thirty-four

  About the Author

  THE DISH