Heart's Sentinel

Mackenzie told herself a fully grown, adult woman shouldn't have problems simply walking into an office. But then, most women she knew wouldn't have a natural-born predator walking in behind them. Hell, most women she knew wouldn't have minded this particular man walking behind them, in front of them or anywhere nearby. He looked absolutely delicious in all sorts of ways.

Problem, right there. Mackenzie had been one of those women in the past—someone incredibly attracted to the dangerous charisma of a male shapeshifter. She'd fallen for it, head over heels, and drank in the wonderful sensuality one shifter in particular exuded like cologne. She'd reveled in the intensity of his attention until it burned her—nearly to death. Dangerous sensuality had turned to obsessive intensity back then, terrorizing her days and nights. Mackenzie remembered moving through every day, constantly aware she could turn any moment, anywhere, and her stalker would be there, without a sound or warning of any kind.

As Adam stepped in behind her, she balled her hands into fists to prevent herself from bolting back out the door, while her heart rate sped up with building anxiety. She blinked away the darkness closing over her eyes and forced her frozen lungs to take one slow breath at a time.

No.

Mackenzie forced herself to breathe past the panic attack.

He's not here.

Forcing her hands open at her sides, she turned with slow deliberation and settled in one of the chairs facing the desk. Willing her tensed muscles to relax one at a time, she leaned into the comfortable softness of the leather.

This is safe territory and he is not the man who attacked me.

Mackenzie set her jaw and looked directly into Adam's face, forcing herself to see him, see the differences between his face and the face taking center stage in her nightmares. Light eyes the color of honey, an open expression, and a strong jaw line shaded by a hint of stubble saved him from boyish abandon. When he smiled, a lopsided grin made her want to smile in return. The hint of wildness in his eyes, and the way he held himself spoke of the predator within, but somehow he'd taken most of the ferocity she'd felt from him earlier and hidden it away somewhere.

He did a good job with the reassuring, cheerful act. Mackenzie knew better. She'd seen the predator rise up in his eyes when he'd realized her identity. Between one breath and the next, he'd been bigger than life, filling the foyer with the promise of violence.
The only reason she hadn't retreated, right then and there, was because somehow she'd known his rage had been directed someplace else. And when he'd focused on her, instead of being further incited to violence, he'd calmed.

Everything is different.

She had to believe. She had to know, not only hope, shapeshifters differed from each other every bit as much as humans. Not every shapeshifter twisted lives like the monster who haunted her.

She'd come looking for a new life and a new start. She would not let the nightmare hold her back.