Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 58442 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 292(@200wpm)___ 234(@250wpm)___ 195(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 58442 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 292(@200wpm)___ 234(@250wpm)___ 195(@300wpm)
A billionaire boss.
A fake relationship.
A storm I can’t escape.
When Raiden Blackwell offers me fifty thousand dollars to pose as his girlfriend for a Halloween masquerade, I tell myself it’s just business.
But under every mask, every command, every stolen breath, he makes me feel things I shouldn’t.
I’m falling for the man who only promised pretend.
Raiden
I needed a date.
I didn’t expect an obsession.
Aurora’s supposed to be my cover—sweet, stubborn, off-limits.
But when danger stalks us through the storm, I’ll do anything to protect her.
Even if it means breaking every rule I made.
Even if it means losing her forever.
*His Haunted Desire is a full-length, fake-dating, forbidden-billionaire Halloween romance with sizzling chemistry, danger, obsession, and a guaranteed HEA
*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************
PROLOGUE
AURORA
Blood pools from his chest, and his mouth is open in a cry of agony, but no sound comes out. He died fast. Now he lies there with his mask still on: gold around the edges, the rest of it marble white, a show of power and dominance and status which did nothing to stop the knife from going into his chest.
This was never supposed to mean anything. It was an arrangement, a deal, a transaction. Nothing more.
So why am I grateful, then, that I’m wearing a mask so the other partygoers can’t see the tears rolling down my cheeks?
CHAPTER 1
AURORA
Iused to love storms. Before I turned sixteen and a storm took my parents from me, I’d curl up near a window with a cup of hot cocoa and read a book. I’d savor the sound of the wind whipping against the glass and the cozy comfort it provided.
Driving through this Maine storm, I grit my teeth. I can’t lose my grandmother, not after I lost my parents. I’m twenty-three, and I lost them when I was sixteen— seven years where, I guess, I could’ve healed. But it never happened. The wound still feels raw after all this time.
I got a call from the hospital. Grandma has had a stroke. They didn’t give me any further information, and now I feel like screaming to release some of the tension. Rain whips against the windshield as the wipers struggle to do their job.
Maybe that’s a theme. We’re all just struggling along.
I need to take it easy. I can’t get morose.
With my heart pounding like a scared kid, I finally make it to the hospital after several hours of driving. I rush across the parking lot in a light jacket. With the chill going straight to my bones, the wind trying to knock me off my feet. Maybe there’s a metaphor in that.
Grandma is sitting in the hospital bed, the window a gloomy sheet behind her, her complexion not much better. One of her eyes is slightly shut and the corner of her lip droops downward, but otherwise she seems like her usual self.
Her silver hair tied in a bun, a no-nonsense grimace on her face. “Oh, Aurora,” she says.
Her words have a slur to them, but I can hear the meaning behind them: You didn’t have to come.
“I wasn’t going to stay at college while you’re lying in the hospital,” I tell her, rushing in for a hug.
She embraces me fiercely. “I was getting ready to check myself out. This is a lot of fuss for nothing.”
“Like hell you’re checking yourself out,” I snap, sitting on the chair next to her bed and holding one of her hands in both of mine. I cling desperately to her warmth. “You’re staying right here as long as the doctor says so, and I won’t hear anything different. Got it?”
“Oh, Aurora.”
“You look like a pervert.”
She gives me a sly smile. “Excuse me?”
“That permanent wink you’ve got going on – it’s salacious. You can’t walk the streets wearing that.”
She erupts in laughter. I’ve loved that sound ever since I was a kid, when Mom, Dad, and I would visit her and she’d sit me on her knee and say, “Time for one of your jokes.”
“I needed that,” she says now.
“I’m here as long as you need me.”
She waves her free hand at me.
“Don’t give me that. College will understand.”
“But—”
“You’re all I have left. Don’t make me cry.”
Truthfully, there are already tears in my eyes. I’ve tried to make myself hard-as-nails, but far too often, I end up like putty. Life weighs too heavily sometimes. Outside, thunder cracks, and I flinch as an image from Mom’s open casket bursts brightly in my memory.
“I’m sorry,” Grandma mutters, her slur only slightly altering her words. “You know how busy Halloween is. It keeps me afloat for the rest of the year.”
“I can help with the costumes. I’ve already explained to my teacher about the call from the hospital. Seriously, Grandma – they said to take as long as I need.”
Grandma sighs. “I don’t like this.”
“I’m in my third year. I’ve got a track record. They know I wouldn’t leave unless it was serious.”
“But—”
“If it takes me ditching college for the rest of my life—”
“Don’t say that!”
“To stop you from checking out of the hospital when you’ve had a stroke, then I’ll do it. Call my bluff. Please. See if I’m joking.”
When she rolls her eyes, she looks half her age. Like a sassy teenager. “You’re the boss.”
There’s some truth in that. After Mom and Dad died, I moved in with Grandma. Sometimes it was like the roles were reversed. I’d have to make sure she got enough sleep and didn’t work herself down to a stub. I don’t resent it. She’s family. But it can be difficult.
“Anyway, enough of this depressing nonsense. Tell me, how’s school?”