Sara McKenna longs for a career in television–far away from the violence of her Fire witch heritage. But when her father is struck down through a typically savage stroke of fate, Sara is summoned home by her father’s second-in-command–her childhood rival, Fire witch Brent Conley.
Brent failed to protect the only man he’s ever respected. He refuses to fail his former priest’s haughty daughter. Sara must produce a pure-blooded child to continue their coven’s line, and Brent intends to personally see to that duty.
Although Sara will fulfill her duty, she has every intention of returning to her media career, without letting Brent steal her heart. But when Brent sees Sara again, he realizes just how much he’s missed her–and how much he wants her to stay. Will Brent be forced to free the one thing he’s always wanted to possess?
She had to admit it hadn’t been terribly bright to ditch Brent, considering the attacks during the trip home from Pennsylvania. But she couldn’t spend the rest of her life cowering because the children of her father’s murderer wanted to harm her.
“God forbid something should happen to Fintan’s princess,” Sara drawled nastily. “His riches would go to the cousins and then where would you be?”
“Please tell me you at least had someone else to protect you last night.”
“I stayed in the populated areas,” she said rather than answer him directly. Her gaze slid away.
“Sara,” he said in a low, warning voice that drew her attention back. “Did you have someone else to protect you?”
“You have no right butting your head into my business. So just—”
“I’m high priest now. I have every right until you swear fealty to someone else. Now answer the question, Sara. Were you alone last night?”
Brent’s eyes blazed a split second before he stalked across the room. He grabbed hold of her biceps, hauling her onto the tips of her toes. The motion allowed him to pin her with the malevolent swirling of his darkened gaze.
“Did you do your duty with someone else to avoid doing it with me?” he all but shouted. Brent’s nostrils flared like a cartoon bull about to charge.
A flare of exhilaration shot up Sara’s back. He was furious. God help her, she enjoyed it.