I let a masked stranger blindfold me.
He demands my submission. Claims every inch of me.
We part ways . . . then I find out I"m pregnant.
I don"t think I"ll ever see him again,
and that"s not even my biggest problem.
He"s hot, powerful, and arrogant. The kind of guy who always gets what he wants. To my surprise, he wants me.
His voice hypnotizes me. His touch scorches my skin. For a few moments, he makes me forget about my name, my father"s rules, and my duty to my family.
Then, I find out I"m pregnant.
To keep myself and my baby safe, I have to leave the only life I"ve ever known. I shed my identity like old clothes.
Four years later, my mysterious stranger finds me. He says he"ll protect me. It sounds perfect . . . until he tells me who he really is.
He"s one of them, which means I can"t trust him. He"s not just a cocky bad boy; he"s a dangerous man with dark secrets.
But when I see him holding our son in his arms, it feels right. Maybe this is crazy talk, but he makes me want to throw all my objections out the window.
Claiming His Baby is a standalone, full-length novel of approximately 54,000 words. No cheating, no cliffhanger, and a guaranteed happily ever after.Books by Author:Nikki Chase Books
Sitting across from me is a dead woman.
At least, that"s what she"s supposed to be. I don"t actually make a habit out of dining with the dead.
If I reached my hand across the table, I could touch her, but she can"t see me. She doesn"t know it"s me.
Would she remember me after all these years"
I was wearing a mask over my face for most of that one night we spent together. That one fateful night, we saved each other, dove headfirst into the murky depths of our depravity together, and then she walked away from me.
For four years, she has been my obsession. Thoughts of her burrow into my brain and shroud my heart. Amidst the dull ache of routine, she"s the only bright spot in my life.
And now, all my hard work has paid off. I"ve found her.
Once I tracked her down, it was easy. At least I"d proven to myself that she was alive, that I wasn"t delusional. Even though everybody believed she was dead, I knew with complete certainty that she was out there, living and breathing. I could feel her.
I wanted to stand on her stoop and knock on her door. Watch her as a multitude of emotions flit through her lovely face. Surprise. Recognition. Disbelief. But I knew she"d be dominated by fear the very next moment. And I don"t want that.
So I tracked down a matchmaking agency, of all things, and arranged it so we could meet here to dine together in the dark. No faces. No identities. Just words. Voices.
She goes by Ashley these days. Not her real name, of course. But I"ll use it anyway. I can"t rouse her suspicion.
I want to get to know her"this version of her. And that won"t happen if she"s aware of who she"s talking to.
"So, Ashley, what do you do"" I ask. Casual question. Nonchalant tone. Appropriate for a first blind date.
Under the surface, a storm rages. I fight the urge to rip her off her dining chair and crush her body against mine. The savory aroma of food suffuses the air, but what I really want to smell is her scent of wild jasmine. I want to taste the sweetness on her lips.
I have to be patient. I"ve almost got her in my grasp. Can"t let her slip through my fingers.
She"s mine. Now that I"ve found her, I"ll never let her go.
Four Years Earlier
"You"re on your own"" The girl behind the counter asks. Her perfectly penciled eyebrows narrow as she tilts her blonde head and stares at me.
I knew it. This was a bad idea. I shouldn"t have come here.
But I"ve already come this far. And this is my last chance. Besides, with this mask over the top half of my face, I"m somewhat anonymous.
Anxiety tightens its grasp around my stomach. "Is there a problem" Your website says single females are welcome."
"Oh, of course!" She widens her eyes, and the winged tails of her cat-eye liner swish up. "I didn"t mean it like that. You"re welcome, of course. I just don"t often see girls like . . . Uh, don"t often see girls, like, come here on their own their first time, you know""
"Girls like you." That"s what she wanted to say.
Damn it. I"ve tried my best to follow the dress code shown on the website but apparently I still look out of place.
"Yeah." I finger the delicate lace of my black lingerie, rubbing the fabric nervously.
Maybe I should"ve picked something other than the babydoll with the opaque chest. Judging by the other girls in the line, baring my nipples would draw less attention.
I look like a prude. Stick out like a sore thumb.
"Okay, so, since this is your first time, I"ll give you the grand tour. My name is Amanda and you can come to me with any questions." The blonde girl gives me an apologetic smile"maybe she senses my nervousness.
It doesn"t help much, to be honest, because she"s gorgeous and is even more stunning when she smiles. In fact, every girl who works here wouldn"t look out of place on the Victoria"s Secret runway. I can just imagine Amanda wearing the oversized wings on her back.
"Thanks. I"m Gra . . . Ashley." I clear my throat and try again. "I"m Ashley."
Jesus. The first person I talk to here and I almost tell her my real name. I need to be careful. Nobody can ever find out I"m here. Nobody.
"Nice to meet you, Ashley," Amanda says.
If she noticed me falter, she doesn"t show it. She probably comes across hundreds of names a night anyway. She"ll forget mine before the end of the night.
Amanda moves up the long table and gestures for me to follow her, letting the other girl help the next guest. She stops in front of a black, leather basket filled with white, black, and gray bracelets. "If you"ve been on the website, maybe you know about our color codes""