Shifter's Claim (The Shadow Shifters) Read Free

finding her mother’s stash of crack cocaine.
    She’d seen him before, earlier tonight at the reception for President Wilson Reed, in the ballroom. Up close and personal he was even more handsome than he had been from two tables away. His skin tone was light, hair wavy and dark, his face was clean-shaven with a strong nose and jawline. And his eyes, they weren’t the smoky-gray color she’d originally surmised. Stormy would be the better word as he glared at her with what she thought could pass as either barely masked contempt or intense sexual desire—she wasn’t really in the mood for either at the moment.
    “Look, there’s been some type of misunderstanding,” she tried to tell him, the final word coming as a partial whisper after deciding to ignore his “you can fuck me” remark. That may have been a little cowardly, which was out of character for Priya, but she figured it was a smart move considering she was actually thinking of doing just that with him.
    He looked at her as if he could tell she was lying or ready to tell the lie before the words could even escape. She felt like clamping her lips shut and keeping them that way, until he did that thing he’d done with his tongue again—oh, she’d definitely open her mouth the next time he did that.
    Right, because sexual arousal was exactly what she should be thinking about in lieu of the e-mails she’d been receiving that threatened the lives of all the people she loved and cherished in this world. Thinking about taking this man up on his oh-so-enticing offer—especially since the self-imposed celibacy she’d endured for the last year was about to take its toll—was definitely more important than following her blackmailer’s orders and saving her family. In some crazy twisted world, she thought with an inward sigh. She knew she had no choice here and for the billionth time tonight wondered how she was going to do what needed to be done, when the people involved were reputedly more powerful than the president himself.
    “I’m a reporter from the Washington Post. I wanted to get a comment from Mr. Reynolds about President Reed’s campaign,” she blurted out. “There, satisfied now that you know why I’m here?”
    He looked like he was anything but, still he’d released his hold on her, physically, that is. His eyes still bore into her as if he were performing some type of perverted X-ray of her body right in this hallway.
    “You waited all night, the entire three and a half hours that Mr. Reynolds was downstairs in that ballroom to follow him to his room to ask for a statement?”
    He lifted a brow in disbelief as he spoke. The slight rasp of his deep voice echoing around her as if forever planting itself in her memory, like she’d really forget being felt up by this guy, which was definitely not going to happen.
    “It’s my job,” she told him with a shrug. “And since I’m assuming you’re some type of bodyguard and not going to let me get that statement, I’ll just be going.”
    Priya was more than shocked that he hadn’t reached out to grab her again, to try and stop her from leaving. Instead, she’d walked about three very uncomfortable steps because she knew he was staring at her ass as she did, before his voice stopped her.
    “Have a drink with me?”
    She turned. “What?”
    He closed the space between them, taking her by her elbow, much more gently than he had touched her before, yet still sending electrifying spikes up her arm.
    “We’ll go down to the bar since having you in my room might lead us to other things besides a nice cordial drink.” He continued as if she’d already accepted, walking them to the elevators at the far end of the hall that had brought her up here about fifteen minutes before.
    Once they were inside the elevator and she felt like she needed to stop this impending train wreck, Priya turned to him and announced, “I’m not the reporter who sleeps with someone for a story.”
    He looked at her