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It’s been almost sixty years since Harry met the fairy woman who cursed him. Trapped within the boundaries of Algonquin Park, and forced into the body of a beaver every night, Harry has struggled just to survive.
Guiding a wildlife photographer should have been a simple job, one that would help him survive the winter. But the client, Willow, turns out to be young and sexy with the kind of adventurous spirit Harry used to look for in a woman, the consequences are catastrophic. The fairy’s curse dooms Willow to spend each day as a moose, ensuring the lovers will never again touch as humans.
Now the fairy is about to learn that moose and beavers are natural allies, and that there is no animal more dangerous than a female moose protecting the ones she loves.
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Excerpt:
Harry spared a glance at his battered Timex. Five to twelve. He popped the top off a bottle of water and chugged half of it down in one go, then settled back to wait. The battered magazine on the passenger seat held no appeal, but he hadn’t been able to refuse the gatehouse staff’s offer. His choices in reading material were pretty limited. Then again, he really didn’t need to know how to make a man moan, so maybe he should have passed this time.
The sound of tires crunching on gravel drew his attention. The tidy little SUV pulled into the small parking lot, sunlight reflecting off the metallic orange paint. Harry watched as the car pulled up next to his own battered jeep before stalling with an exaggerated jerk.
“Shit.” The voice coming from the open window was soft and breathy—and obviously embarrassed. Harry quirked an eyebrow and waited for the driver to step from the car. The door opened and one slender ankle appeared above a pair of Doc Martin sandals. A trio of delicate chains tinkled as the second foot stepped onto the gravel.
He waited, breath caught, for the woman to stand. When he’d accepted this job, he’d worried about guiding a single woman. Normally his clients leaned more towards families, or groups of older city folk looking for a change from their all inclusive resort vacations. Fortunately the problem had never come up—until now.
He hadn’t known what to expect of this client, but it certainly wasn’t the tiny slip of a woman who stepped around the door of the SUV and smiled at him. She wore short raggedy jean shorts that had obviously seen better days, and a halter top of crinkled white cotton. Her breasts didn’t exactly stretch the fabric, but it was obvious that she wore no bra. Christ, if it rained she might as well be topless.
Grim faced, he opened the door of the jeep and stepped out.
“Are you Harry Fullwood?” Her cheeks were flushed, complimenting the full pink lips and tangle of auburn curls that cascaded over her shoulders. She looked like she’d just climbed out of some man’s bed.
Harry’s body responded with a force that shocked him. He forced himself to breath deeply before answering. “Yeah, um, sorry. Yeah, are you Willow?” Hell, was he actually stuttering? Lord, you’d think I’d never seen breasts before, he thought ruefully.
She smiled and offered her hand. Harry hesitated only a second before accepting the gesture. Good lord, he couldn’t spend two weeks alone with this woman in the back country. Ignore the fact that he was going to have a hell of a time keeping things professional. Ignore the fact that Willow Hopkins looked more suited for shopping than wilderness camping. This whole thing was a bad idea. A very bad idea.
“Are you sure you’re ok with this? You do know that the area we’ll be going to is very remote. You can’t just drive home if you change your mind out there.”
Her blue eyes narrowed. “I assure you I’m quite capable of handling myself in the woods, Mr. Fullwood. I’ve done enough back-country camping to know the drill. If you don’t want to act as my guide, then I am perfectly able to go on my own, but I was assured that you were an expert and I would appreciate having an experienced guide on this trip.”
Her tirade over, she drew in a ragged breath and spun on her heel. With short, stiff strides, she stalked to the back of her vehicle and popped the rear hatch hard enough to make him wince. A full backpack was tossed to the ground followed by a lifejacket and a scarred paddle. Ouch. Has a bit of a temper, doesn’t she? Harry chuckled and stepped over to the pile of belongings lying on the ground. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to insult you. You just don’t seem like the kind of person who’d enjoy roughing it.”
She glared and tossed a blue food barrel directly at his chest, sending him stumbling back a few paces. “Appearances can be deceiving.” Well, that was the truth. Nobody looking at Harry would guess the truth about him.
“So, you like it rough, do you?” The teasing leer in his voice surprised even him.
He watched her spin on her heel to face him, hands clenched at her sides and he laughed. It had been too long since he’d had anything to laugh about. He couldn’t afford to flirt with her, but damn it felt good.
A sudden gust of wind blew through the trees with the power of a tornado. Branches moaned in protest. Harry looked up in time to see a thick limb break off with a deafening snap directly above where they stood.
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