Aliana Maddock runs for her life when she discovers the gift her father plans to bestow upon her for her twenty-fifth birthday. It isn’t the inheritance her mother promised before her death, but a contract for a marriage to a man twice her age—a criminal associate of her father’s.

Sent to guard one of the gates of Paradise during the Sabbat when the veil between their world and the humans’ becomes thin, Griffin Bedard and Dracen Giacomo find a half dead woman lying unconscious on clan land. Drawn to her in a way they can’t explain, they risk their lives and the discovery of Paradise to keep her.

Can the two men protect her from the evil that follows Aliana or will they all succumb to the danger that follows her to the gates of Paradise?

Excerpt:

“It’s good to see you’re finally awake.”

Ali jumped at the sound of the deep, male voice. A man peeked around one of the blankets that gave her some semblance of privacy. Holding the covers against her chest like a lifeline, she glanced up into the strangest looking eyes she’d ever seen. Not many people had that strange cat-like yellow color. She’d bet her last dime on it. Golden hair framed his square face and fell just short of his broad shoulders. A light dusting of down, the same color as the hair on his head, made a narrow track to his hips, disappearing below the waistband of his jeans. She frowned, disappointed, when he turned toward the table and gave her a view of his back.

“My backpack!” Speaking of last dimes, everything she owned was in that bag. She frowned. Except her shoes. Did she really kick off her boots and pants in the water? How would she ever manage to replace them?

He glanced over his shoulder. “Your pack is fine. It’s still a bit damp but it’s fine.” Turning, he moved to push the curtain back a bit more and lean back against the backrest of a sturdy looking chair.
Biting her lip, Ali looked down, unable to hold the man’s unblinking stare. Nodding, she cleared her throat. “My… Where are my clothes?”

He smiled and pushed the blanket open a bit further. “I washed what you were wearing yesterday. Something told me you’d want them when you woke.”

“How long have I been asleep?”

“About thirty hours.”

Holy cow! “Thirty hours?” No wonder her back ached and she had cottonmouth. She needed a drink of
water to rinse the horrible taste from her mouth. But until she could figure out where she was, she’d stay put and let them think her incapable of running.

She peered around him, trying to figure out whether this was one of her father’s men. Beyond the opening, she saw her shirt, blue lace bra and matching panties hanging from an indoor clothesline. She cast her gaze to the floor, her face burning with mortification. He’d washed her clothes and hung them up? In his house of all things! How long had he sat and stared at her most intimate clothing while she slept in his bed? Heck. The Earth may as well just open up and swallow her right now. She had no desire to ever look at the man again. It was too embarrassing! Where was that river she’d fallen into last night? She wanted to go drown herself in it. Now!

The man reached down and brushed his thumb over one of her burning cheeks. “There’s no reason to be embarrassed. I have sisters and their things were all over the house all of the time.” He winked at her. As if that would help.

Men! Did they think it was okay to hang a woman’s under-things for all and sundry to see and stare at? Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath. Calm down, Ali. It’s just one man. One man saw them, not the entire Army for cripes sake.

A door slammed and she jumped. Closing her eyes, she prayed it was the man’s wife. But something told her he wasn’t married. No man would have taken it upon himself to wash another woman’s underwear if there was a wife hanging around. Not if he wanted to continue breathing anyway.

Gathering her courage, she managed to open her eyes just in time to see a gorgeous man with blue-black hair turn his back. He strode from the cabin, slamming the door behind him. What was wrong with him? He wasn’t the one laying naked in a stranger’s cabin with two drop-dead gorgeous members of the opposite sex hanging about. She was the one who should be storming out—with her clothes on, carrying her backpack.

Throwing her legs over the side of the bed, she looked up at the remaining man and raised her brow.
Smiling, he turned and left the cabin. “Call out if you need my help. You’re bound to be a bit weak.”
Weak? Ha! She scorned the word and the condition. Weak was giving up without a fight. Weak was letting the strong oppress her. No. She wasn’t weak. She would never allow it. She would struggle against this just as she would fight her father and the marriage he arranged until her dying breath. She shuddered at the thought of Doug Hamill’s groping hands on her. He would never touch her like that. She’d let them kill her first.

Standing, she held on to the wall for support until her dizziness passed. Then she slowly made her way to the things she needed to get dressed. Slipping into her panties, she couldn’t help but feel grateful the man thought to wash them so they’d be clean for her. But it still didn’t help her embarrassment. It was just a good thing she hadn’t been on her cycle. That would have been mortifying.

After donning her bra, panties and blouse, she looked around for something to wear as pants. Even a towel she could wrap around herself as a skirt would have been welcome. Unfortunately, luck wasn’t with her. She found nothing. She sighed. What she wouldn’t give to have her backpack with her change of clothes and her cash with her. Where was her backpack? He’d said it was here. She sighed. It didn’t matter. He’d said it was soaked.

Aliana thought about the handsome man and the other she’d only gotten a glimpse of. Both of them were built like construction workers or body builders. Their well-defined forms were enough to make her mouth go dry even with her current problems.

Grabbing a lap blanket off the back of the small sofa, she wrapped it around her waist then sat down and rested her head in her hands. How could she be so tired from such little activity and how could she be so attracted to two men she’d just met? She didn’t even know their names. What was wrong with her? Why did she still feel so drained? Everything was mind over matter. Everything. And if she didn’t mind, why should it matter?

Aliana sat still for a minute, willing her strength to return. She refused to succumb to this weakness. She had to get up, get dressed—even if she had to borrow something—and get the heck out of here. The longer she stayed here, the more chance there was of her father and his men finding her. She couldn’t allow it. And she couldn’t allow her troubles to burden these two men. If she stayed here, she would only manage to drag them down with her. She could never live with herself if they died because of her.