Taken by the Billionaire Wolf by Julia Sparks Page A

photos of our artwork, or any information about why we support the shelter,” he pointed out, folding his muscled arms before him as he met her cold gaze with one of his own.  “We need the help of the press to spread our message.  And to help us in this mission, I’ve asked to speak with my favorite features columnist at The Benington Bugle.” He paused here, adding with a broad smile, “Joanna Brighton is bright, funny, and she always gets her facts right.  When she writes, people read—I know that I myself learn so much from her columns.”
         Ariel rolled her eyes.
         “And what facts will she garner from her interview with us, sweet love?” she spat out these last words as though they were venom, “What will she tell her ever loyal readership about us?  You know how frigging nosy these reporters are, Rafe.  Sure, they might start out asking casual questions, in pursuit of an innocent feature story.  Then the moment that they suspect that a juicier story lies just beneath the surface—one likely to sell more papers—then they will stop at nothing to uncover it.  I just know that she’ll reveal our secret.”
         Rafe rolled his eyes.
         “And just how will she learn our secret, by simply looking at and asking questions about our artwork?” he pressed her, adding as he dismissed her concerns with the wave of his sturdy hand, “Look, Ariel, we should know better than anyone else that animals’ lives matter.  The shelter is in need of help, and they’re relying on this fund-raiser to keep their doors open.  Don’t you think we should do everything we can to help promote the fund-raiser?”
         Ariel sighed.    
         “What about our lives, Rafe?” she shot back, adding as she turned away, “Of course I wish to help the shelter—but not at the expense of our own well-being. If our secret gets out, my dear, then we will be the ones without homes, without security, without lives.  We’ll be in no position to help anyone, let alone ourselves.”
         Rafe shook his head.
         “For once, Ariel, can’t you just trust me?” he asked with a sigh.  “I know it would be a rare and shocking precedent, to be sure.  Yet considering that we’re going to become husband and wife in just three months’ time, you might just want to give it a shot.”
         Ariel parted her ruby red lips, no doubt prepared to deliver a scathing rebuttal meant to cut her fiancé to the core.  Yet even she jumped startled as a loud, resounding knock rang throughout the quiet walls of their upscale entryway.
         “Well it appears as though our reporter has arrived,” Rafe announced, walking with long, smooth strides in the direction of the front entry; a set of brass handled double doors that stood inches away from him.
         He froze in his place as his short, slender fiancée blocked his way; staring up at him with cold eyes as she folded her arms before her.
         “Go on into the sitting room and prepare our artwork for the reporter,” she instructed him, adding as she turned for the door, “I need to have a little talk with her before the interview.”
         Meeting her words with yet another pronounced sigh, Rafe shook his head as he turned away from her.
         Suddenly he felt very sorry for the woman known as Joanna Brighton.  And, coincidentally, for himself.
     
         “Is this a house?  I mean, well duh it’s a house—but do people actually reside here?  Or do they just stand out front and brag loudly to everyone in ear shot that they can actually afford the mortgage and general utilities on the thing?”
         These were some of the questions that plagued the mind of Joanna Brighton as she stood before the largest, most opulent home she’d ever seen; a three story work of pure pink sandstone that came complete with stained glass windows, encircling ivory porches, arched roofs, and brass handled double doors that