This story was previously released. It has been revised and expanded.

“Kit will want what she wants…”

Truer words were never spoken.  The sleek, sexy shapeshifter knows what she wants.  She wants Byron, the Master vampire she swore to serve.

Too bad he doesn’t want her…or does he?

Byron wants her, all right.  But he made a promise to care for her.  Caring for her doesn’t involve doing all the dirty, delicious things he imagines doing.  Determined to keep his promise, he sends her away.  But Kit will want what she wants…and what she wants is him…

This book has been previously published.  It has been expanded and revised.

Warning:  This book contains an old-fashioned master vampire, a stubborn werewolf, sex, misunderstandings, sex, unrequited love, and sex.  Did I mention the sex?  Don’t say you weren’t warned…

“…that’s it, baby girl…take it…relax…”

Kit gritted her teeth as she listened to that low, husky male voice.

She knew that voice.

Loved that voice.

Prayed to hear that voice murmuring to her, just like that.

But it wasn’t happening. Right now, the rat-bastard was talking to one of his humans.

Fine. It was nothing new, she told herself. Focusing on the spreadsheet on the screen of her Mac, she continued with the paperwork, one of the many tedious jobs she was had to attend to as the second-in-command here.

All the while, the man she loved fucked another woman. And Byron wasn’t alone. One of the other Hunters was playing with them. Bastards. The lot of them.

Groaning, she snatched her iPod off the desk and turned it on, plugging the earbuds into her ears and turning it up. The low, raw sound of Marc Cohn’s voice blasted out, doing something to block out the sounds of sex and heat and everything she really, really wanted to have for herself.

She had four minutes of blissful respite.

And then she felt the vibrations of footsteps, heard somebody speaking. Scented the change in the air.

Looking up, she saw one of the humans that lived at the Enclave. The man had a note in his hand. He held it out to her, nervously. And as she took it, he whirled around and ran off.

Her gut clenched as she looked down and read it.

Come to my office. Immediately…Byron.

She frowned.

That was Byron’s handwriting, alright.

It smelled like him.

Tugging out the earbuds, she shifted her gaze upright.

Heard the sounds of sex.

Carefully, she turned off the iPod. Stood up.

Why was he doing this?


Over the sound of Melissa’s whimpering cry, he heard the sound of footsteps. Harder to smell as much, over the scent of her blood…he’d just fed. Add to that the scents of sex and sweat and it was just harder to filter through it all.

But when the door opened, his mind almost tumbled to a halt.

What the


He stilled beneath her, hands braced on Melissa’s hips.

Ben, kneeling behind Melissa, continued to move, oblivious.

Oh, shit

He waited for the door to shut, braced to pull away. Damn it, what in the hell–

But Kit sauntered inside and flung herself into the chair by the fireplace, her eyes flashing fire. Her lip trembled a little as she glared at him.

And then, without saying a word, she tugged her skirt up. Revealing blood red panties.

Blood roared in his ears as she slipped her hand inside that red silk.

Craning his head around to watch her, he jerked his hips, driving upward into Melissa’s waiting pussy. Melissa whimpered, but he wasn’t even aware.

As Kit’s fingers disappeared, he bit back a groan.

She wasn’t doing this…

But she was.

And as she started to stroke herself, he found himself staring at her hand. Unable to look away.

The one woman he wanted.

The one woman he couldn’t have.




Melissa finally managed to lurch to her feet. Ben stood in the background, watching in silence, while Byron leaned against his desk, still staring at Kit. She’d stroked herself to climax. Damn it, he wanted to go to her, catch her hand in his and lick the essence of her from her fingertips.

Instead, he stood there, trying to piece together just what had happened.

Kit hadn’t come in by accident.

He couldn’t read her mind.

The mind of a shapeshifter was a strange thing and he couldn’t pierce it.

But Melissa was mortal. One he’d fed from, often. She was an open book. A deceitful one.

“You fucking pervert!” Melissa hissed, glaring at Kit who still lounged in the chair, her eyes heavy-lidded, her hand resting low on her belly, skirt rucked up, a smile on her mouth.

It wasn’t a replete smile, though.

It was sharp-edged; jagged, like broken glass.

As Melissa lunged for her, Ben moved, coming up off the floor with the blurring speed of a shifter, catching her before she moved five feet.

Kit just laughed.

“Oh, come on, Melissa. What did you expect me to do? Just stand there? Byron apparently wanted me to see this little show. I might as well enjoy it.”

“I didn’t call you here,” Byron said softly.

She slanted a look at him, her eyes narrowed.

Her nostrils flared.

She’d know if he lied. Scents changed with lies. But he wouldn’t lie to her. Not to Kit. Not ever. He might not tell her how he felt, but he wouldn’t lie to her.

As Ben turned to look at him, puzzled, Byron focused on Melissa’s face. “Melissa, why were you in my office earlier today?”

She whipped her head around, staring at him.

And he pushed inside her mind.

Saw the answers for himself.

Pulling back, he closed his eyes. “Melissa, you’re no longer welcome here. Kit, my apologies for this…deception. Ben, escort Melissa to her rooms and let Nick know to start preparing for her departure.”

Melissa started to cry.

And Kit…she just stared at him.

Stared at him, while the rich, ripe scents of her arousal perfumed the air,teasing his hunger.


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