Driven to Danger

By Alice Gaines

Journalist Megan Bristol has landed her dream assignment -- an interview with mysterious and dangerous Evan Scott -- to take place at his seaside estate in Florida. Scott has a large collection of fast cars and one motorcycle. It’s a Mannhof, a handmade bike that will only run for one person. That person is Megan. When the Mannhof senses his mate’s presence and shifts into a human man, Megan and Theo forge a strong sensual connection.

Theo knows assassins are coming to execute Evan, and Megan is in danger. But he can’t convince Megan to believe in him and trust him to protect her. When Megan takes matters into her own hands, Theo fears he will lose his one and only mate.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Changeling Press
• Release date: Jun 17, 2022

Alice Gaines

Alice Gaines likes her fiction hot, hot, hot. Alice has a PhD from the University of California at Berkeley. She shares a house in Oakland, California, with her pet corn snake and a stray cat that lives in her yard. When Alice isn't making up stories in her head, she spends her time cooking, gardening, and listening to her favorite band, Tower of Power.

Book preview

Chapter One

One short week ago, Megan Bristol would never have believed she’d find herself in an elegant dining room finishing off a dessert of crêpes suzette while listening to the rhythm of the Atlantic Ocean in the background. Across the table, her host studied her in a manner combining surface charm with an undertone of danger. Evan Scott might have the good looks of a leading man and the manners and accent of a British lord, but underneath all that beauty lay a cold-blooded killer, if she could believe the stories about him. And she had no reason to doubt the newspaper accounts.

Beside them stood the servant who had just set their crêpes on fire in a silver chafing dish. Another fellow in formal clothes stepped forward to refill her champagne glass. She quickly placed her hand over the rim. No, thank you.

One of Scott’s dark eyebrows rose. It’s not to your liking?

The opposite. I like it too well. Between the bubbly and the liquor in the crepe sauce, her head would begin spinning if she wasn’t careful. She didn’t dare give a man like Scott any advantage even if he had invited her to work with him and wasn’t her enemy. He still hadn’t explained why someone who remained always in the shadows had asked a journalist to his beachside estate in one of the most exclusive parts of Florida. But it wasn’t to give her the vacation of a lifetime.

I think I’ve had enough strong drink, she said.

Pity, Scott said. I was going to ask you if you’d like some brandy while I showed you my automobile collection.

I’ll pass on the brandy, but the cars sound interesting.

Good. Shall we visit the garage? He rose. I think better while I’m surrounded by my toys.

Before she could get up, yet another servant arrived to pull out her chair. Then she joined Scott for the brief walk across the terrace, and they headed down a brick path toward the huge garage.

For all she could tell from their surroundings, they could be the only people for miles. Except for the domestic staff, of course, and Scott’s security detail. The next estate wasn’t anywhere near Scott’s, separate by woods and swampland. The limousine that had brought her here from the airport had come along quite a drive from the road, culminating in perfect lawns and gardens, before reaching the main house. Now, warm evening breezes ruffled her hair. In a few months, the weather would become unbearably hot and humid. Now, it was simply perfect, like everything here, including her host.

After some time, they arrived at the garage entrance, and he opened the door for her to go in before him. At first, darkness blinded her, but then blazing light filled the space as Scott hit switch after switch. The beams bounced off dozens of polished surfaces, nearly stealing her sight all over again.

Oh, my, she said finally as she took in the magnificence around her.

My greatest weakness, he said. Speed.

Unfamiliar as she was with expensive cars, she couldn’t have named any of them, but each sat low and sleek, with curves designed to hug corners and leave other vehicles in their dust. There had to be at least twenty of them, each gleaming in perfect condition. She went to one of them, bent to lower her hand toward its hood, and then pulled back.

Soft laughter sounded behind her. You can touch it.

She wouldn’t put a finger on it… or him. But then, he wouldn’t invite her to. Men like him didn’t seduce women like her, with more brains than looks. Women who wore conservative clothing and sensible shoes. Women with glasses and chaotic red curls that would not be tamed no matter what she did to them. No, she wasn’t his type, and any suggestion he found her attractive would amount to no more than toying with her.

She turned to face him. How many cars do you have?

Twenty-two here, he said. More at my other estates.

Do you ever drive them?

Occasionally. When I’m bored.

I could never picture you bored, she said.

He laughed, this time more loudly, his voice rough. When I’m not transporting weapons to unsavory people, do you mean? Helping to overthrow uncooperative governments? Killing inconvenient people?

You said those things. I didn’t.

You’ll get to know me well enough while we work together, he said. And all my faults.

Would you like to tell me why I’m here? She might have added the word finally. She’d tried for months to get his permission to interview him. She’d given up when he did contact her. Something had changed his mind, and that, in itself, might be a story.

You came of your own accord, he said. I didn’t force you.

He knew well enough that dangling a story like his… like him… would be a narcotic to a journalist. Plenty had been written about him, but no one had ever gotten to the source to verify the truth of the rumors. To flesh out the details only he could provide. To get inside his head and figure out what made him tick. If he’d done a fraction of the things attributed to him, she’d have headlines in every major newspaper, along with more in-depth magazine articles. Perhaps a best-selling book. Of course, when he’d emailed her, she’d leapt at the opportunity.

Don’t trust him, a voice said from somewhere, as though it had come from inside her own head. She glanced around. Did you say something?

He studied her again, as if she were an interesting specimen he had under a microscope. I beg your pardon.

I thought I heard… that is… someone said…

What did you hear?

I’m here when you need me, but don’t let his charm fool you. More from the internal voice. Um… nothing.

Are you quite well? Scott said. I won’t have you getting sick when I need you.

Her head snapped around, and now she stared at him. He needed her? What an odd idea. But then, he must have wanted something