Proud Hearts (Wild Hearts Romance Book 2)
Read Proud Hearts (Wild Hearts Romance Book 2) Online
Authors: Phoenix Sullivan
Lose your heart to Wild Romance!
With the grant money needed to continue her video journalism work with a pride of Zambian lions fast running out, Deidre (Dee) Young reluctantly signs a contract to help create a "Living With Lions" episode for the popular
Living With...
reality TV show.
Star and Hollywood idol Chris Corsair is just as arrogant and self-absorbed as Dee feared he would be. That is, until an accident forces Dee and Chris to rescue one of the pride's cubs, and Chris proves to be more than just a pretty face with a rock-hard body play-acting the hero.
But even as Chris and Dee burn up the hot nights with their new-found passion, a hunter arrives on scene determined to stop at nothing—even murder in the isolated African bush—to take home the head of Brutus, the alpha lion of Dee's beloved pride.
To save Brutus and themselves, they'll have to trust to their lions, each other, and the strength of a love that threatens to tame them all.
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NOBLE HEARTS
, Book 3 in the Wild Hearts Romance series, is available! Sign up for my mailing list today. You’ll ONLY receive a newsletter when I have something new on offer, and your email will
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MORE BOOKS BY PHOENIX SULLIVAN
Wild Hearts Romance Novels
BRAVE HEARTS
(Book 1)
PROUD HEARTS
(Book 2)
NOBLE HEARTS (Book 3) –
Coming Summer 2016
~
Medical Thriller
Copyright © 2016 by Phoenix Sullivan
No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording or by any information storage and retrieval system—except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews—without the written permission of publisher or author, except where permitted by law.
TABLE OF CONTENTS
“Why again did I let myself get talked into this?”
It was far from the first time I’d asked that question, but it was one of the last opportunities I’d have to second-guess my sanity before the film crew arrived tomorrow. D-Day. Doomsday.
By the way my stomach was churning around in knots, I had a pretty good idea how cold feet could prompt a bride or groom to flee the altar. Second thoughts—better reasoned, it seemed, than the first thoughts that elicited my
yes
initially—ate at my good sense.
No, what really ate at me was compromising myself and my work for the quick buck it would bring. Stupid self-respect, always trying to assert itself at the most inopportune times.
But I also needed the money to continue my work here in Zambia; otherwise, the grants and patron funding would only last another season or so. Nature documentaries were fast losing their glamor—along with losing screen time to fake hunts of even faker legendary beasts and a host of celebrity-based reality shows.
Like Chris Corsair’s
Living With…
series, which combined the worst of both types of staged drama.
Drama and staging and celebrity ego that he was bringing here tomorrow.
Not that the extra publicity would hurt when fundraising time came around again. It just made me feel…dirty.
“You guys’ll be on your best behavior while they’re here, right?”
Nana, regarding me from under the shade of a tambotie tree simply flicked an ear. Brutus, lazing on his rocky throne, yawned, and my camera caught the impressive spread of his jaws, the gleam of fangs and the curl of his long tongue. Such a camera hog, and always willing to pose for it as though he understood every private moment of his would be on display for thousands to see. Millions, if I could sell to one of the major syndicates or public television. Or a reality series.
“No trouble from any you, OK?”
Not than any entreaty or admonishment on my part impacted what this little pride of lions chose to do day-to-day, or even moment-to-moment. How the lions would react to new people in their territory was my first concern. The safety of the crew my second. Maybe my priorities should have been reversed, but the crew had a choice about being here. They knew the risks, were fully aware this wasn’t a zoo and that the lions, while—usually—tolerant of me, weren’t tame in any sense of the word. Provoke them at all and the consequences could be dire. The
Living With…
crew still chose to come. Any consequences would be theirs alone to bear. I was very clear that’s what our contract said before signing it.
“Best behavior,” I repeated, as Caesar and Cleopatra, my Wonder Twins, tussled in the sand, their growls and snarls echoing off their father’s rocky throne.
God, I enjoyed being here alone with them.
And three strangers, including an arrogant son-of-a-bitch if his last season’s episodes fully captured his conceited attitude, would be here tomorrow to disrupt everything and create their own reality.
Why again had I let myself get talked into this?
Lions.
Well, Bears, Sharks, Wolves, Marines, Skydivers and Elephants had all been ratings hits. The showrunners seemed to know the audience, and as long as I didn’t have to do more than six of these a year, then with the 25% bonus per episode my agent had negotiated for this season, I could certainly put up with the four months of travel and filming, along with the two months of late-night talk shows and publicity tours, in order to spend the other six months in civilized places like Vegas, Atlantic City, maybe even Monte Carlo in the winter.
Plus I was already signed for a new superhero franchise trilogy that would begin filming next year, which would lock in a nice annual income for, oh, a decade or so, coupled with guest appearances, a starring role in an indie movie or two, and with luck, plenty of magazine and social media coverage.
A Top 100 Hottest Men of the Year list or two wasn’t out of the question, either, especially since I’d have to step up my workout regimen for that superhero role, if the name Atlas had anything to do with the character’s physique.
All-in-all, life was looking sweet for that half-a-year of downtime each year I was planning around. Indulging in all the vices, encouraging the paparazzi to keep my face out there, living high…
It was that first six months out of each year when I was going to have to pay the dues. Like now.
Lions.
Maybe a couple of years ago that word would have had some more thrill to it. All it conjured now was some aging, mange-eaten animals on a hot, dusty savanna in some forgotten corner of Mozambique or Zimbabwe or wherever they were sending me this time. Two weeks of isolation, without women, sex, cards or dice.
Okay, there would be women. My cameraman was one. Reena, an Indian beauty with make-up perfect eyes and a body that screamed, “Take me.” Or screamed it to everyone else but me. Few women ever said
no
to my charms, but no matter how many times I tried to get into her pants, she wouldn’t have me.
The videographer who lived with the lions was a woman too. Dee something-or-another. Cute in that wholesome, sisterly way if her resume picture wasn’t purchased from a photo site, but anyone who’d devote their life to living alone in such a remote spot had to be seriously disturbed. Probably too disturbed to be seduced into bed. She and Reena would likely get off with each other talking about framing and lighting and F-stops, when I’d rather be discussing G-spots.
My only real chance at bedding anyone would be Gary. As a personal assistant, he was top-notch. Just overly attentive. And overly handsy. He was good-looking enough, with a close-trimmed beard and a ripped body that he kept toned by working out with me every morning. Didn’t matter to me that he was black. If I swung that way, he and I would be making merry in the sack on all these location shoots. But I just couldn’t get it up for a guy, no matter how I—and he—might have appreciated it.
So, really, the next two weeks couldn’t be done fast enough. In and out, like a whore being paid by the hour, as they say.
Although I was looking forward to some of the promo shots that would come out of this. After all, what guy doesn’t look even more studly next to a mountain of a lion?
Even if it was all just trick shooting by an exceptionally beautiful photographer.
