Page 7 of Seduce Me in Shadow

“It only works if I’m touching a woman”—he clears his throat—“intimately. Now that I’m mated, I can no longer shag any woman except my own. You’ll have to pry information from her the human way.”

I’d rather not get tangled in magickind’s problems, but perhaps I can placate Bram while helping my brother. And if I can persuade Ms. Blair to divulge whether Anka is her anonymous source and where my brother’s mate is hiding…even better.

What other options do I have? I need to find Anka to restore my brother’s sanity. At the moment, the bloody reporter is my best—and only—lead.

“Well?” Bram smiles. The bloody bastard has me by the balls, and he knows it.

“Don’t ask me for anything else.”

Chapter

Four

Sydney

“Have we come to the part where I spank you?”

As the final notes of “Happy Birthday” echo through the small conference room, I close my eyes. Did my perpetually inappropriate coworker, Jamie, actually suggest a bit of kinky discipline in front of the entireOut of this Realmstaff?

Everyone laughs uncomfortably—except my exceedingly dishy photographer, Caden MacTavish. Mortified, I risk a glance at him. He’s crossed his thick arms over his chest while glaring at Jamie with those piercing blue eyes.

With a disapproving sigh, I turn to the office Lothario. Jamie merely leers, wagging his brows at me.

“Have we come to the part where you leave?” Caden counters.

The words somehow sound polite. He has that upper crust Londoner sound, though muted by time elsewhere. But he can still say most anything and sound civilized. His current expression, on the other hand, rivals Attila the Hun’s on a bad day.

“You think you should be first to have a go at her?” Jamie challenges him. “I’ve seen how you stare.”

I flash hot all over. Since joining our team, Caden has taken a great deal of interest in my work. He’s been especially fixated on the battle in that South London tunnel last month. Though he claimed my story about the magical war is utter rubbish, he’s asked a load of questions, particularly about my information source. Not that I would tell him—or anyone else—the woman’s name. Impossible, anyway. I don’t know it. Unfortunately, Jamie must be addled because Caden’s fascination doesnotextend to me.

“Bad karma!” Aquarius, my flower-child assistant, scolds both men. “Mellow!”

Neither spares a glance for the little waif in the fringed dress. Silver bangles tinkling, Aquarius reaches out to Caden. Whether she intends to soothe him or test his aura, I can’t be sure. I shoot a silent warning at my assistant. Now is not a good time for one of her healing-crystal/save-the-world moments.

Caden ignores her to glare daggers at Jamie. “You may find this concept hard to grasp, but some men are capable of admiring more about a woman than what’s in her knickers.”

Jamie scoffs. “If he’s a nancy boy.”

I don’t know Caden well. But despite his disinterest in the contents of my knickers, I’m convinced he’snotgay.

“Or more evolved than a hormonal ape,” Caden drawls.

“Stop being rude,” I snap at Jamie. “This is a birthday party, not a brawl.”

“Tell us your wish,” Leslie from marketing suggests to smooth the tension.

A romping shag with Caden, but since that isn’t likely to happen…lead reporter has a lovely ring to it. Sure, I work for an online paranormal tabloid that few take seriously, but it pays the bills. Soon, I hope to make a name for myself writing stories that traditional journalists eschew. And people everywhere will recognize me once I find proof of the supernatural. I know it’s out there…

Until then, I’ll write about the otherworldly things my parents have utterly rejected. Besides,Out of this Realmis a scream to work at. Where else could I collect a salary for chasing Ripper ghosts and conducting interviews at the London Psychic Centre?

My personal life, on the other hand? Disaster. How does one manage to become a sad spinster at twenty-eight? The endless string of dates from my uni days have been replaced with deadlines and staff meetings. My last boyfriend… His pretty face failed to compensate for the fact he had the IQ of a dead houseplant and the emotional range of a pea. Perhaps Ishouldwish for a man.

For Caden.

Yummy waves of dark hair, delicious blue eyes, a body that belongs in magazines, and a reserved nature that makes me itch to know the man beneath. It’s a shame the attraction doesn’t run both ways.

“She can’t tell us or her wish won’t come true,” Holly, my editor, points out and gestures to the table loaded with brightly wrapped boxes and decorative bags. “Now stop fannying about, Syd, and open your gifts.”

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