station, since she knew Nicholas had brought a handful of the island’s legendary warriors with him when he’d decided to settle in this century as Olivia’s director of security for Nova Mare and Inglenook.
Pine Creek might be harboring a small population of time-traveling Highlanders, several modern-day magic-makers, and a couple of powerful drùidhs, but when Maximilian Oceanus had turned Bottomless Lake into an inland sea five years ago, the mighty wizard made Spellbound Falls the new reigning seat of magic.
In fact, rumor had it that Titus—who had built Atlantis—planned to expose the mythical island any day now, since it was no longer needed. That’s why the few dozen Atlantean holdouts who hadn’t felt prepared to venture into the real world had been invited to form a new colony on a small island just three miles offshore of Spellbound Falls.
Katy didn’t think Gunnar was one of them, though, as he seemed more than comfortable with modern society and technology. No, he had to be one of the warriors Nicholas brought with him. As such, he would be able to adapt quickly to any new environment, since the small elite army was known to travel to any and all civilizations throughout time, upholding the Oceanuses’ vow to keep the troublesome mythical gods from interfering in man’s free will.
Katy sighed, feeling a little better. Considering who and what he was, she really shouldn’t be surprised by her sudden and powerful attraction to Chief Wolfe. Having grown up surrounded by magical men, plain old ordinary mortals had always seemed so . . . ordinary. And because Atlantean warriors were the strongest, bravest, most loyal and noble men ever to walk the Earth, those very traits also made them the safest. Innately protective, not only would they never brutalize a woman, they would go after any man who did.
Just like the men in her family.
“Okay, that settles that problem,” she said as she opened the side door, looked around to make sure the coast was clear, then shot over to the other ambulance and climbed inside. “Now that I know who you are, Mr. Wolfe with an E, there’s no reason why we shouldn’t make this attraction mutual.”
Katy stilled as that liberating notion settled around her like a warm, gentle hug. She’d done her suffering. Now things—her life, her purpose, her security and peace of mind—could fall into place as intended.
She grabbed the jump bag, unzipped the side pocket and dug out the wallet and cell phone, then stared down at them with a crooked smile. Catching Gunnar’s interest should actually be relatively easy, considering the breadth of her knowledge. From the time she’d first started looking for The One in her early teens, she had also started studying all the males in her extended family—paying especially close attention to their love lives.
So, knowing which female traits men found attractive and which ones sent them running in the opposite direction, all she had to do was stop acting like a silly schoolgirl and start being her strong confident self again. And since the Highlander genes she’d inherited from her daddy didn’t know the definition of defeat, by the time a new permanent chief was installed three months from now, Gunnar Wolfe should be hers for the taking.
* * *
* * *
Gunnar glanced up from his paperwork at the sound of a soft knock, then stood up and silently held out his hand, palm up.
His visitor forked over his wallet and cell phone. “Gretchen wouldn’t have needed anything in the jump bag once she was in the ambulance, so all your deepest, darkest secrets are safe.”
“Is that your way of saying I’ll only have to write you a check every month?” Gunnar said dryly, slipping the wallet in his hind pocket without bothering to open it.
Those long-lashed, fog-gray eyes took on a gleam. “Yep, but I’ll do you a solid and only take half your pay.”
Gunnar used the excuse of checking his phone for messages to hide his surprise—no, shock—that she hadn’t gone through his wallet. What woman didn’t rifle a man’s wallet when given the perfect opportunity? Hell, he would have checked out every card, picture, and scrap of paper in hers.
Whereas Katy MacBain was either too good to be true or . . . uninterested—the latter not boding well for a four-month-long fantasy that had, at exactly 6:25 this morning, rocketed from sensual curiosity to full-on fascination.
Or maybe she was interested. He thought about the way she met him so directly, those gray eyes