The drive to the hospital didn’t take long. Most everyone already at work, the streets were close to empty. The small-town feel was something she’d grown to love in her short time living in Garden. She couldn’t imagine moving back East to the hustle and bustle of a bigger city. Too many people crammed into too little space. The mix of human and shifters sometimes creating a toxic, unwelcome atmosphere. The constant state of awareness that drained her body and soul.

That was all behind her now.

Pulling into the hospital’s parking garage, her day suddenly turned dark much quicker than expected. She would be lucky to find a spot on the top floor by the looks of things. Slowing her car to a near stop, she crept past one filled spot after another. One row, then another. Right before she turned to head up the ramp to the next level, she noticed an open space next to the wall. A huge black SUV sat one spot away, taking up every inch it could. It would have to do. She didn’t feel like spending another fifteen minutes hunting for another space.

Holding her breath, she pulled in. There was barely enough room for her to get out. Grabbing her bag, she squeezed out of her car, careful not to bang into the gleaming vehicle next to her. “Compensate much?” she mumbled, sucking in her breath.

Twenty minutes later, she was in her office going through emails when she found out mandatory training had been cancelled. A scheduling conflict. Go figure.

Breathing a sigh of relief, she went to the cafeteria for some tea having finished her cup from Claire’s while digging through emails. As she stirred the hot brew, mixing in the sugar and splash of creamer, she turned and ran right into a hard, muscular body.

Her tea splashed back, scalding her hand, and the person jumped forward before turning around to yell at her.

“Watch where you’re going.” The man pulled off his white lab coat with an aggravated sigh.

She was too busy grabbing napkins and cleaning up her mess to notice who it was she’d run in to. “I think you’re the one who needs to look where he’s going. Any person with a lick of common sense would know stopping next to the beverage station is a recipe for disaster.”

Carolline tossed the napkins and her now empty cup in the trash, much to her regret. She looked down at her hand and winced. The tea had been hotter than she thought.

The skin on her hand was red and irritated. Her only saving grace was that it didn’t immediately blister. She hated how she was quick to bruise, blister, or become inflamed. She hated it even more that it took her longer to heal than other shifters. It was one of the genetic mysteries of being a hybrid. Most shifters, depending on the severity of the injury, healed anywhere from a couple minutes to a couple days. On her, the tea burn would take at least a day or two. On a normal shifter, a matter of minutes.

Strong, capable masculine fingers suddenly grabbed her hand, turning it this way and that. A tingling sensation ran up her arm and into her chest before spreading through the rest of her body. The shock of the reaction brought her head up, an audible gasp escaping when she realized who the capable fingers belonged to. Even bent over her hand, he was unmistakable.

Devon-Freaking-Andersen.

Brilliant physician.

Widower.

Loving father.

Town Golden Boy.

He was the guy every woman in town wanted, whether it was to attach themselves to a Founding Family name, or because he was plain ass sexy as hell.

Short, midnight black hair. Chiseled facial features. Broad shoulders that filled out his dark blue button-up shirt to perfection. He was the embodiment of every sexual fantasy she’d ever had. Not that she’d admit it. Ever.

Damn, she wished she could see his eyes. Gauge for herself if the tales about them were true. Hospital gossip said they were closer to black than brown, and with one look, he could see into the depths of your soul. The tales swirling about no one ever seeing them glow, not even when he was around his mate, brought out her innate curiosity about his lineage. Had her questioning the validity of his deceased wife being his true mate.

Taking a discreet sniff, her eyes fluttered shut as jolts of awareness raced over her skin like little fireflies. He was absolutely divine; a mixture of Sandalwood and Bergamot orange. Her mouth watered, canines dropping fast. Her tigon craved a taste, pushing her to make a move. To push forward and into his space. Rub up against him like a cat in heat. It had never smelled anything as good and knew she never would.

“You should put some ice or cold water on your hand,” he rumbled out, jarring her from her daze. His voice reminded her of warm whisky on a cold winter’s night. It brought out goosebumps all over her flesh as it heated her down to her core. Dear God, he could probably smell her arousal building.

Like every other woman, she wasn’t immune to him. Not by any stretch of the imagination. Everything in her ramped up—high on his closeness. Her heart raced, pulse fluttering out of control. Her breath turned shallow, and she became light-headed. He was too good looking, smelled better than any man had a right to smell, and damn, his smooth, deep voice turned her on like nobody’s business. Ben’s voice had never had this effect on her.

This is completely unacceptable, the small voice of reason, buried deep within, insisted.

Carolline tried yanking her hand from his grip to no avail. She would not allow herself to become one of those bumbling, blubbering idiots who fell at his feet in worship. If he kept hold of her, touching her even in this clinical way, it was bound to happen. “Noted. Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to get a new tea and get back to work.” She tugged a little harder and he relented. The sudden freedom of her hand sent her back a step right into the table behind her.

He grinned, the corners of his mouth curving into a cocky smile and pissing her off. It was as if he knew he had her creaming her damn panties. His eyes flashed gold for a millisecond, jolting her.

No, she couldn’t have seen what she thought. No one had ever seen them turn to the mating hue. She had to be mistaken. It must be her desire to see if they actually did change tricking her into thinking it happened.

So much for inner peace. Embarrassment and anger warred within her. Heat traveled up her chest, more than likely turning her pale skin a brilliant shade of red. When she got back to her office a little Downward Facing Dog was in order, followed up with Child’s Pose, and possibly ten minutes of Savasana, the Corpse Pose. She looked at her watch out of habit. Because of the training cancelation, she had plenty of time to do what she needed. She would get her damn inner peace and tranquility back, even if it killed her.

Tossing her head back, she marched around Devon and his stupid cocky face, deciding to forego the tea completely. At the moment, the yoga was needed more.