Kira's replacement turned a corner in the hallway to walk toward the royal suite. The Between king and his fiancée had been closeted inside for the seven hours since Rhiannon had returned to the palace. Kira had to work to smother a smile. King Elan hadn't been able to hide his impatience to have Rhiannon back on the island nation of San Amaro. He'd barely managed to slam the door in his Guards' faces before the carnal sounds of mating had begun filtering into the hall.

In many ways, it was a relief to have Rhiannon here instead of running her health club in Oregon. The stubborn woman had insisted that she didn't need to be followed around by security guards if she wasn't royalty yet, so Kira had had to arrange for more covert means to assure the future queen's safety. As second in command of the King's Guard, Kira had been pulling double duty for months taking care of her normal job assignment, plus handling her unspoken position as the head of the future Queen's Guard.

With all the details of her business tied up and the wedding the next day, Rhiannon was on San Amaro to stay. Finally. The only person happier about that than Elan was Kira. No more juggling jobs for her. No more pretending. She was openly in charge of Rhiannon's security detail, which would officially become the Queen's Guard after the wedding ceremony.

“Everything okay?” Her replacement for the next guard rotation stopped in front of her, his face serious.

They both froze when a pleasured female scream echoed out of the king's room. Using every one of the skills she'd learned at her father's knee, Kira cleared her throat. “Yes. Everything's going just fine.”

“So it seems,” the man quipped, a faint grin on his face.

Kira clapped him on the shoulder as she headed down the hallway. “Enjoy your evening. Or something.”

He snorted, and she glanced back to see him settling into place beside the door. Good.

Pushing open a side door, she stepped out into the cool night. The sea breeze off the Pacific carried the hints of salt and open water, mixing with the deeper scents of garden blooms and the people on the island. Even as the familiar environment encouraged her to relax, she did an automatic sweep of the area to make sure that the palace was as secure as it should be. They'd had several serious threat against the king's life recently--one in particular that had the entire Guard on alert--and it paid to be cautious. More than that, old habits died hard, and she'd been a cop for the LAPD before she'd joined Elan's Guard when he'd become king.

It had been a crazy time for the Between. The former king had outted their kind to the human population just before he died, which left Elan scrambling to protect the rights of Between all over the world. His family had owned San Amaro, an island off the coast of southern California, and the United States annexed the land as a sovereign nation for the half-animal shifters.

Kira thought Elan had done a better job for their race than his father Phillip ever had. Good riddance to the old bastard.

The hot smell of Max swirled through the air, scattering her thoughts. She automatically moved in that direction. It was like a Lorelei, that scent. Calling to her, tempting her, taunting her. Her heartbeat quickened, blood throbbing in her veins as her body readied itself for what she had in mind. Yes. All she needed now was Max.

It was dangerous and stupid to crave her like he did. Even more dangerous was that he enjoyed talking to her as much he enjoyed fucking her. Sex was one thing, but any other kind of intimacy shouldn't even factor into this affair. He was supposed to be winning her over, not the other way around. Damn it.

“Sire.” The Guard stationed outside Elan's suite snapped to attention and held the door open. “You have a visitor.”

The other man didn't specify who, but he didn't need to. Only a handful of people had the security clearance to be allowed in the king's private quarters, and when Elan stepped into his sitting room, he drew in a lungful of her sweet scent.

Rhiannon.

Tilting his head, he waited for the feel of her boundless energy to vibrate along his senses. It didn't come. Frowning, he followed the smell of her into his bedroom and over to the wide expanse of his mattress. She lay curled on her side, one palm tucked under her cheek in sleep. His chest tightened with a tenderness he didn't want and shouldn't feel. The pose made her look impossibly young and innocent, something he knew wasn't true. A smile curved his lips. The woman more than matched him in insatiable wickedness.

Reaching out to push back a flaming curl gently, he watched her eyelashes flutter. She yawned, rolled onto her back, and stretched. Those changeable eyes locked on his face, unpredictable as her moods, and she smiled. “Mmm. I tried to stay up, but the bed looked too inviting. What time is it?”

“Very late. Or very early, depending on your definition.” He let his fingertip trail over her soft cheek, down her throat, and across her collarbone as he mapped his way to her cleavage.

Arching into his touch, she chuckled. “I wore myself out today. Kira has me teaching Pilates to the poor, unfortunate guys on your Guard. The women on the Guard are loving the show, and I'm pretty sure Kira's just enjoying watching the men be tortured into flexibility.”

He knew that. Every move she made was reported back to him, but listening to her animated retelling made him smile. “How's my brother doing with it?”

“Very well.” She licked her lips and stared at his mouth, desire shimmering in her gaze. “And flirting with me outrageously while he shows off for his people.”

Elan's hand froze, hovering over her silken flesh. He shoved back the totally unfamiliar jealousy, reminding himself that the more Between Rhiannon liked and cared about, the more successful his plan would be. He closed his mouth tightly, hiding the fact that his fangs had elongated to deadly points.

Sitting up, Rhiannon tugged her shirt over her head and tossed it to the floor beside the bed. “It's good that I'm keeping in practice with my teaching for when I go back to Portland. I'm going to have to hit the ground running at the gym.”

His muscles tightened as the blow of her leaving hit his gut the same way his jealousy had. That she was leaving wasn't a surprise--that he hated the idea was. It was a bad sign and it worried him. Shoving his hand into her red-gold hair, he pulled her head around until he could slam his mouth over hers. The possession in the gesture angered him because he knew he had no right to feel it.

Her lips parted under his, welcoming his kiss. He groaned and filled his hands with her breasts, desperate to touch her, to claim her. The lace of her bra maddened him, kept him from softness of her flesh, the tightness of her nipples. A quick jerk and the fabric gave under his superhuman strength. He threw the offending garment in the same direction as her shirt.