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Authors: Christine Warren

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BOOK: She's No Faerie Princess
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Now seemed like a good time for Fiona to stand up. Andtake a few steps back. And maybe make sure she wasstanding somewhere far away from corners and close toan obvious escape route.

"Um, a little."

"A little? She's a little your aunt. So I suppose she'll only make my life a little miserable when she finds out you're here. That's just fabulous."

"Don't you think you're overreacting just a tad?" she laughed, not really amused. "Mab can be a little bit… temperamental, I grant you, but she's not entirely unreasonable. She's not going to get all bent out of shape with you just because I took a little trip."

Walker crossed his arms over his chest and pinned her

with his stare. "So then you got permission to visit before you crossed through the gate from Faerie that no one on either side is ever supposed to use except in direst emergency?"

Fiona made a face. "Not exactly."

"Then what the hell makes you think Mab isn't going to pitch a royal Fae fit?" he snapped, stalking toward her until she could have sworn the force of his irritation blew her hair back like a hurricane wind. "You broke the goddamned law, and not only that, but you picked the worst possible time in history to dump your pretty little troublemaking ass into my lap, sweetheart. I've got enough to worry about without trying to prevent an interdimensional incident with the Summer Sidhe!"

Fiona's curiosity leapfrogged over the protestation ofinnocence she had been about to make. Rumor had it,there was a sprite somewhere back in the branches ofher family tree, and it was moments like this that lentcredence to the story. Eyes glinting, her need to knoweverything hurled her right into the provocative part of hisdiatribe. "How is this the 'worst possible time in history'? Is something going on?"

Walker teetered back on his heels, his expression slowlyshifting from anger to confusion. It looked like he'd just hita brick wall after accelerating to full speed. "What?"

"What's going on at this particular moment that makes the timing of my vacation so bad?" she asked, ignoring the bark in his tone. "There must be something major going on. You seem stressed out. Is there something I can do? Anything I can help with?"

"You've got to be kidding me."

"Well, there's no need to sound so astonished. Just because I'm Fae doesn't mean I can't be useful. Not everyone who grows up at court is a dilettante. Just tell me what the problem is, and I'll be happy to lend a hand."

The werewolf stifled another curse that had Fionawondering about the extent of that particular portion of hisvocabulary. It seemed quite amazingly comprehensive.

"The only way you can help me," he grumbled, abruptly backing up a few steps and resuming his earlier pacing, "is by doing whatever it is you do to magic yourself something to wear that looks less like it came out of a Victoria's Secret catalog. Then you can follow me back to the Faerie gate you came in through and get the hell home before anyone important realizes you were ever here."

Fiona blinked and raised an eyebrow. "That was a littleharsh. Is that what passes for manners in the mortalworld lately? No wonder we have so many jokes aboutthe irony of mortal civilization where I come from."

His head snapped around, and he scowled at her throughfiercely narrowed eyes. "Now is not a good time for youto lecture me, sweetheart."

The predatory glow in those wolfish eyes caught Fiona bysurprise and sent a shiver of awareness skittering downher spine. All at once her senses seemed to register thepower of his muscled body, the breadth of his lightlyfurred and distractingly bare chest. The heat that radiatedoff him in waves along with something subtler, deeper,and infinitely more unnerving. Typically, Fiona reacted to

the warning of her instincts not with a strategic retreat,

but with a slightly suicidal tug to the tail of the beast.

"Oh? What time would work better for you?" she asked, opening her eyes wide and guilelessly, even as her subconscious streak of self-preservation had her backing up another step or two. Or four. "I'd be happy to take a look at my calendar and work you in—"

By the time she heard his warning growl, it was alreadytoo late. In the time it took for her synapses to fire, thewerewolf had leaped across the distance separating themand slammed bodily into her, sending her careening intothe wall five feet behind her. She hit the drywall with athud and a hiss, the air in her lungs whooshing out andinto the mouth of the beast.

She would have felt a lot better if she could have thoughtof him as beastly, if she could have mustered upsomething like outrage or indignation or even somejudicious fear. But no. Instead, all she felt was a wave ofintense dizziness and a weakening of every muscle in herbody as it melted against his. Her lips put up noresistance as he forced them apart with his own andsurged inside like a conquering chieftain. His tongueclaimed her mouth with bold strokes, marking the sweetterritory as his. His teeth nipped sharply at her lips,before soothing the brief pain with suckling kisses.

Moaning, she sank into him, letting her knees collapse. He didn't seem to need any help keeping her upright. Hehad her pinned against the wall like a canvas, held inplace with the weight of his body. It worked for her,leaving her free to do nothing but savor the surprising,intriguing, intoxicating flavor of him.

He tasted of rich, dark coffee, thick and heavy with sugar. Traces of spice and forest filled her senses and made hertremble as she dissolved in pleasure. Her hands slid upthe cool surface of the wall and tangled in his hair, curlinginto fists and holding him tight against her lips. He didn'tseem inclined to go anywhere else, but at this point,

Fiona didn't want to take chances. She wanted to devourhim. Or let him devour her. Either option would work solong as he never, ever stopped kissing her.

A low rumble, half growl, half purr, vibrated between themas he leaned more heavily into her, into the kiss, nestlinghis hips into the cradle of hers, pushing against the flimsybarrier of her gossamer gown until she felt the roughscrape of denim against the center of her need.

She moaned and wriggled against him, wanting to magicthe barriers of cloth away, but she had used up her magicin the demon attack, and stars knew when she'd be ableto get a refill. Probably not until she got back home.

Even as the thought brushed through the edges of herconsciousness, Fiona became aware of the passionbetween them, shifting, changing, becoming somethingmore. Sheer, teasing tendrils of magic began to formfrom the energy of their mutual desire. The tendrilsswirled and danced in the pit of her stomach, then spilledout, finding the wound in her flesh and smoothing over it. The magic knit skin and muscle back together, found foul,oily molecules of poison, and wrapped around them,insulating and separating them from her bloodstream anddissolving them into individual atoms that could bebenignly flushed from her system.

The healing magic filled Fiona with a rush of warmth and

energy, replenishing her depleted stores of magic until

her wish became a reality and the barriers of clothing

between her and her werewolf disappeared, leaving him

pressed hot and hard and naked between her thighs. She

moaned and clutched him tighter, canting her hips

invitingly, seeking to draw him inside her body, into the

hot, moist depths that ached with emptiness only he

could assuage.

Unfortunately, the brush of molten heat against the crownof his shaft seemed to snap him into some hideouslynoble sort of sense. He tore his lips from hers andgrabbed her wrists, jerking her hands from his hair andsetting her bodily away from him. Far enough that herblindly seeking hips couldn't reach his and squirm theirway past his guard.

He swore violently and stood glaring at her with eyes thatburned with heat and frustration and a distinct sense ofunease. Holding her at arm's length, he struggled toregain his breath even as she struggled to free herselfand press against him once more.

"Just what the fuck do you think you're doing?" he demanded. His voice was so harsh, so low, and so animal that he sounded more like wolf than man. It took a few seconds for Fiona's overheated brain to translate the question and even longer for her to understand what he meant. For some reason he seemed to be upset by the fire leaping between them.

Frowning, Fiona tested his grip on her wrists and found itjust as steely as ever.

"I wasn't thinking," she said, impatient and

uncomprehending. "I was too busy tasting you. But I don't

know what you have to be so upset about. I mean, it's not

as if—"

"Sweetheart, I almost fucked you up against a wall, and I've known you for all of seventy-two minutes, sixty-three of which you spent unconscious! You bet your ass I'm upset!"

Fiona felt her frown deepen. "But why? Is theresomething wrong with the wall?" She craned her head tolook at the pale-cream-colored surface behind her. "Itseems perfectly functional to me."

Walker made an odd choking sound. "That's
 
not
 
thepoint. Jesus, this is crazy. It's completely impossible."

Fiona let her gaze drop pointedly to his erection and felther eyes widen. My, but he looked… enthusiastic. Andimpressive. Borderline challenging.

"It looks very happily possible to me. Probable, even, if you'd stop yelling for a few minutes and just let me get a little bit closer—"

She slid a bare foot up his muscular leg to hook behindhis hip and urge him toward her. For one deliciousmoment, she thought she saw his eyes start to glaze overand his body begin to sway nearer, but then he caughthimself, jerking back as if electrocuted and shifting fartherout of reach.

"Would you stop that?"

If she hadn't known the man in front of her to be apredator, Fiona might have called the look in his eyes justthen hunted, especially once he glanced down at himselfand really noticed that the reason he probably felt like

she touched him through the fabric of his clothes was because he no longer wore any. But to be fair, neither did she.

His head snapped up, and his expression hardened. "Putthem back."

Fiona didn't pretend to misunderstand. Instead, shesighed. "I can't."

"What do you mean, you can't? I'm not the one around here who does magic, lady, and I'd sure as hell remember it if I'd undressed you, so I think it's a pretty safe bet that you're the one to blame."

"Accusations are so not constructive—"

"Put them back," he repeated, in a tone she bet made all

the female werewolves swoon. "Now."

"I told you, I can't." Since her gorgeous but grouchy companion had seen fit to kill the mood, Fiona gave up and leaned against the wall, which was not nearly as much fun as it would have been if he'd been pressing her up against it with that yummy body of his. The thought helped her muster up a respectable scowl of her own. "I don't have the magic. I'm drained."

Seeing the Lupine's confusion and not in the mood to beaccused of lying, which she felt sure would be his nextstep, Fiona explained. "Fae magic is different from themagic you have here. It's an entirely different system,almost like another language, and the only language Ispeak is Fae. I might be able to puzzle out some of theimportant words if I concentrate really hard, but thatwould take more energy than I'd be likely to gather.

Which means that if I want to use magic while I'm in thisworld, I need to use magical energy I brought with mefrom Faerie."

"Then do that. Use what stuff you brought with you."

"Like I just told you," she said, glaring, "I'm drained. I

used up all the magic I brought when I was trying to keep from being eaten by a demon with a serious case of the munchies. I don't have anything left. That's why you're seeing what I really look like, instead of the glamour I had on when I got here. When I used the last of my magic, I couldn't even keep that simple a spell cast."

His expression reflected his skepticism. "If you can't doany magic, where the hell did our clothes go in the firstplace?"

Fiona shifted uncomfortably. Somehow, she didn't see Walker being all that comfortable with the idea that she'dbasically fed off the energy created by their intimateencounter. It was one of the inherent talents of the sidhebranch of the Fae that sex fueled their magic, and whilethat failed to even raise eyebrows in Faerie, itoccasionally proved a bit disturbing to inhabitants of thehuman world, Other or not. With that in mind, Fiona didn'treally want to be the one to have to explain it to thisalready-irritable Lupine. It would be enough of achallenge getting him to kiss her again as it was. If hereacted with the unease most of his fellow non-Fae feltfor folk who replenished their magic with the energy ofothers, he'd probably never touch her again. She reallywanted him to touch her again.

"That was the last of it," she said, cautiously meeting his

gaze. "I'm surprised I even had enough to manifest a

thought like that, but there's no way I can reverse it now.

I'm tapped out."

Walker's expression remained suspicious, but hereleased one of her wrists and used the other to tug heralong behind him. He crossed the room to a half-closeddoor Fiona had been much too occupied to notice earlier.

BOOK: She's No Faerie Princess
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ads

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