Quick Alvarez, wolf shifter and the head of Skull Point Cay security, clenched his fists and locked his jaw tightly to keep from releasing a stream of obscenities at the dusky-skinned woman before him.

It didn’t matter that she was stunning. Nope, that didn’t matter. Not one bit.

His wolf howled, but Quick wasn’t having it.

Not a chance.

His wolf could like her all he wanted.

Quick wasn’t so easy to win over.

And since when are you easy to win over, he asked his wolf.

Sell the island?

Part of Quick wanted to throw her into the murky waters of the Lake Pontchartrain and let her drown. Then the gators could get their fill of her.

The other part of him wanted to be professional and get her on the island so he could get her to fulfill the role that Adriana clearly wanted for her.

He scowled at the woman in front of him. Her full lips were set in a thin line and he wanted to ask her why she was frowning. It’s not like she just heard the new owner wanted to sell her home.

If this so-called heir was worth anything, she would’ve been on the island training with Adriana and ready to take over when Adriana was gone.

But Adriana shouldn’t be gone. She shouldn’t have been taken from life this early.

He studied the brunette before him.

Dark circles ringed her eyes, as though she hadn’t slept. Probably a party girl who enjoyed spending the money Adriana had designated for the island.

Yeah, well, screw this new heir.

Quick would do what he could to protect Adriana’s legacy.

“Quick.” It was one of Adriana’s attorneys. The tall one.

He couldn’t remember their names. Wit-something, Wit-something, and… yeah, he completely forgot the final one. Completely.

Pft. Who cares?

After they finished the formalities with the heir, he’d be on his way, taking her to the island to teach her the ropes as best as he could.

He was a shifter, by damn, not a magician. Some of the stuff that she needed to learn, a witch or a wizard should’ve been the one teaching her.

“Yeah.” Jeez, he even sounded surly to his own ears. He tried to soften it with a smile and hope he didn’t look like he was snarling. “Am I too early?”

Judging from what he heard about her wanting to sell the island, he might be too late.

He worked on the smile, trying to turn it into a friendly grin. “So, what’s this about selling the island?”

“Oh,” the shorter Wit-something said. “It can’t be sold yet. There’s a provision in the will.” He turned to the heir. “I’m sorry we should have told you about that.”

She crossed her arms, managing to look pretty surly herself. “What’s the provision?”

“You have to live on the island for a year before you can dispose of it.”

Dispose.

Quick winced at the use of that word.

Then again, he didn’t say sell… that was a good thing, wasn’t it?

“What?” the heir screeched.

Heiress, he corrected himself. Damned attorneys called her an heir for so long that he’d not even realized it was a woman anyway.

“So,” the heiress lowered her voice, brushing back dark hair, rubbing her temples.

Hungover probably.

She continued, “I have to live there...”

She began to pace the room, and to Quick’s amazement, was muttering beneath her breath.

Had she lost it?

His shifter hearing picked up a couple of words. Something about nowhere else to go.

Well now, that didn’t exactly make him feel very reassured. So, she was out of options? Probably spent all of Mommy and Daddy’s money, the spoiled princess brat.

Then again, with that ragtag backpack, and a scuffed-up cane, he wondered how well off her parents could actually be. She looked damned near homeless. That cane had to be hers, it was next to her, but, she was walking around and pacing just fine.

What the hell’s she got a cane for?

He wondered if it was a magic cane, then shrugged inwardly. Who the hell knew with these magic types.

“So, princess,” Quick said.

She snapped her head in his direction, eyes glowing with anger.

Ah, shit, he cursed himself, way to start this working relationship with her.

She was his boss, after all. Would be. And it wasn’t like he could just up and leave the island. He’d promised Adriana that he wouldn’t.

Man, I need to learn how to shut it, sometimes.

“Don’t call me that,” she snapped.

“Do you prefer heiress?” Damn. He’d gone and done it again.

Adriana always warned him his mouth would get him in trouble. And invariably, it always seemed to.

Her eyes were hard. “No. Do you prefer d-bag?”

A smile snuck to his lips, barely curling them before he snatched it back and made his expression unreadable.

He liked that sass. This was something he could understand and relate to completely.

A little bit of street in her.

Yeah, he could work with that. At least she wasn’t going to be some sniveling princess diva.

He hoped.