Bayou Shadow Protector. Debbie Herbert

you know of evil?” he asked softly.

      She matched his low tone. “It’s out there. Deep in the woods.” She raised a slender finger to her lips. “Shhh...it’s a secret.”

      His entire body flushed hot, then chilled. Who was this mysterious woman who appeared out of nowhere and was no stranger to the danger in the woods? She’d deliberately sought him out and knew entirely too much about him.

      “I can keep a secret.” He pushed the spiked OJ into her hands. “Does this evil have a name?”

      April raised the glass to her lips and took a healthy slug. “Mustn’t tell.” She burped—a tiny effervescent bubble burst that was more charming than vulgar.

      “Sure you can. You came to tell me something. Go ahead.”

      Blue eyes widened and she shook her head. “You are so smart. And handsome. And kind. Tallulah must be the biggest fool in the world.”

      He clasped her arm. “How could you possibly—”

      “Hey, man, what’s up? Who’s your new friend?”

      Leman Jones kept his gaze on April, even though his words were addressed to Chulah.

      Irritation flashed through Chulah as he released April’s arm and made the introductions. His old friend had no right to leer at her like that, even if she was the prettiest woman in the place. He shifted his gaze past Leman’s shoulder and saw four other males approaching their table.

      “You’ll have to excuse us—we were just leaving.” Chulah slapped a handful of bills on the table to cover the drinks, plus a hefty tip for Karlee.

      “But I haven’t finished my drink,” April complained.

      “You heard the lady.” Leman grinned at Chulah and turned to April. “If you want to stay and finish your drink, I’ll see you home.”

      Chulah helped a wobbly April to her feet. “Thanks. We’re good here.”

      “Can’t blame a guy for trying. She’s hot,” Leman whispered in his ear.

      Chulah guided April past the sea of men with disappointed faces. Outside, the breeze was refreshing. “Doing all right there?” he asked.

      She nodded. “A little dizzy, but okay.”

      “Do two drinks always affect you so much?” he asked, trying to trap her in a lie.

      She walked slowly, considering. “I don’t know. This is the first time I’ve had alcohol. I’m not sure it agrees with me.”

      “I would say not.”

      Hiccup. April covered her mouth with her hand. “’Scuse me.” Hiccup.

      She momentarily seemed to rise a few inches on the sidewalk and then lower down. He blinked. Must have been some kind of optical illusion. Chulah inwardly sighed as he took her arm and slowly led her down the sidewalk toward her place. Seemed he was always rescuing women and children. He’d had a spectacularly crappy day and could use a little rescuing himself. At least April was an interesting diversion; he’d grant her that.

      In fact, she was so diverting he’d almost forgotten to quiz her about her warning of evil. Chulah straightened his shoulders. He couldn’t have questioned her with a flock of men hanging around; much better to get her alone. Yeah, that was the only reason he’d scuttled her out of the bar so quickly. It had nothing to do with jealousy.

      At the Pixie Land shop door, April fumbled with the keys. Before Chulah could offer assistance, Steven opened the door.

      “What’s this?” he asked sharply, nostrils twitching. “You’ve been drinking?” He whisked April inside and frowned at Chulah.

      “Only a little.” April’s demure response was ruined by a tiny hiccup.

      Her face rose from his chin level to eye level. Just as quickly as before, she slipped down again.

      Chulah shook his head to clear it. Last time he’d ever order a double dose of whiskey. He faced Steven and held up a hand. “I didn’t twist her arm. How was I supposed to know she’d never had alcohol before?”

      Steven stuck his nose in the air. “Should have chaperoned the likes of you both.” He scowled at April. “I’ll fix you a strong herbal brew. Get you right in no time. Where’s your head at, missy?”

      No need to be so gruff. Chulah stepped between them. “I’ll fix her a cup of coffee. Didn’t you say earlier you were about to quit work?”

      His scowl deepened. “I’m not leaving until I see she’s good and sober.”

      Chulah rubbed his chin. The man seemed entirely too proprietary to be a mere employee. Perhaps a brother? But their coloring and build and mannerisms were so different, that seemed unlikely.

      He suppressed his irritation. He barely knew either of them. Yet it didn’t sit well to simply leave April in this condition with such an irritable man. “Go on and fix whatever it is you’re making. We’ll be upstairs.”

      Steven opened his mouth as if to object.

      “We’ll be fine,” April assured him, patting his shoulder before heading to the back.

      Chulah followed, eyeing the myriad glass shelves lined with pastel-colored figurines. There were winged fairies, ballerinas in tutus, mermaids with glistening tails and other magical beings. “You have a sense of whimsy,” he noted.

      “They are pretty, aren’t they?” She stopped and traced her fingers over one of the winged fairy statues. “What do you think of this one?”

      The fairy sported silver-and-purple hair, alabaster skin, sort of like April. He examined it closer. There were even...yep, a few tiny freckles on the fairy’s nose. “Favors you.”

      A mysterious smile blossomed on her lips. “I’d like you to have it.” She lifted it, and Chulah braced his hand under her unsteady ones, afraid she’d send the delicate figurine crashing to the floor.

      Her skin was so soft, so delicate and pale above his calloused, dark hand. A sensual ache coursed through his body. He hadn’t felt this way in years about any woman besides Tallulah. He took the sculpture and returned it to the shelf. “We’ll talk about the figurine later. Let’s get you seated while we wait on Steven to bring your tea or whatever it is he’s brewing.”

      Her full lower lip pouted a bit, which should have irritated him, but instead, he found it adorable.

      They climbed a narrow set of stairs and entered her room. The tiny studio apartment was immaculate, but sparse and utilitarian, featuring a bed, a kitchenette, a leather sofa and two chairs with a coffee table between. None of the whimsical shop figures decorated the room. It had a masculine vibe without a trace of feminine softness. It didn’t fit her at all.

      April plopped on the sofa and patted the spot next to her.

      “Doesn’t look like you’ve had time to decorate yet,” he said, sitting beside her. “I would have thought you’d have a pink ruffled bedspread at least,” he teased.

      She gazed about the room, as if seeing it for the first time. “It’ll do for now.” Her head rested on the back of the sofa and she reached out and placed a hand on his chest.

      His heart thundered under her gentle touch. April’s mysterious, womanly smile returned, playing on her lips, desire darkening her indigo eyes. Passion crackled and flowed between his heart and her hand. A moment of tension, of inevitability, sparked the air. As if guided by a magnet, his hand reached up and touched the quicksilver hair that charged like velvet lightning between his fingers.

      April was fire and ice. Pale coolness on the outside that burned like dry ice and winter’s frost upon contact.

      But a good burn. A very good burn that left him craving more heat. Their lips found their own way to each other, his arms encircled her slim, lithe waist, and his