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Somebody is trying to kill Cecilia Druthers, the most frustrating woman shapeshifter Finnegan Hennigan has ever met. (Un)lucky for Finn, he’s assigned to protect her. Which means keeping her alive—and out of his bed. This assignment is definitely not going to end well…
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The largest threat to Lightbearers was dead, but that did not mean other shifters and even other magical beings did not bear ill will toward their kind. They had lived for five hundred years within their magically hidden home, essentially cut off from the rest of the world. They had no earthly idea what dangers lurked out there.
“Fine,” Cecilia grumbled, turning away from him and stomping back through the woods toward the beach house where the king and queen lived. Thanks to the thick canopy of evergreens, the coating of snow on the ground in this heavily wooded area was far easier to manage than it was on the expanse of lawn she would eventually have to cross in order to get back to the beach house.
Finn fell into step beside her. She deliberately ignored him. It was not, unfortunately, easy to do. She could practically feel the higher-than-average body heat radiating off him. Shifters’ body temperatures were naturally several degrees warmer than a Lightbearer’s. Olivia said it was like snuggling with her own personal heater in bed, except he was big and powerful, with sharply defined muscles and yet a soft touch.
Cecilia glanced sideways at her counterpart. His shoulders were ridiculously wide, his chest sharply defined, and his backside was far too grabbable in those just-tight-enough jeans he wore. If his personality wasn’t so damn bossy and domineering, she was half-afraid she would be attracted to him.
“If it helps, I don’t like Cecilia Duty any more than you do.”
She abruptly stopped walking and turned to stare at him. “Cecilia Duty?” She all but choked on the words.
He grinned again, the bastard. She wanted to slap him. He was forever foiling her plans to escape the coterie and then finding great joy in his successes.
“It’s an apt name, don’t you think?”
“Is that what Tanner says?”
Finn shook his head. “Nope. He calls it guard duty. But guard duty’s a piece of cake compared to constantly tracking you down and keeping you from endangering yourself.”
“I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself,” she said with all of the haughtiness she’d inherited as a result of being raised side by side with the Lightbearer princess.
Finn snorted. Cecilia narrowed her eyes again. “You are the most annoyingly frustrating male I have ever experienced in my life. And trust me when I say I have come across some exceedingly annoying men.”
“I’m sure you have. You attract them like damn flies.”
Unfortunately, she couldn’t disagree. He was right. She did have the uncanny ability to attract the worst possible type of male.
“I’m surprised you aren’t falling at my feet, begging for my attentions,” she retorted, figuring it was the best insult she could come up with at the moment. She began walking, and Finn fell into step beside her again.
“You aren’t my type.”
“Oh, really? What is your type?”
“Not annoying. Not disobedient. Not intent upon putting herself into danger on an all-too regular basis. And not so damn skinny.”
Cecilia stopped walking again. She flung around to face him, fisting her hands on her hips. “So damn skinny? What the hell does that mean?”
He waved at her person. “You. You look as if a stiff wind could knock you off your feet. You look like you weigh next to nothing. Females your age ought to have more meat on their bones.”
“Females my age?” she repeated indignantly. “I’ve just passed twenty-seven summers. What does my age have to do with my weight? Which, by the way, is perfectly fine,” she said with a sniff.
Finn shook his head and then promptly picked her up and tossed her over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.