Summary Dominique is a woman on a mission. As far as she is concerned she has been assigned the simple task of picking up White Tiger shifter Gregor from the airport and dropping him off. The fact he is muscle bound and sexy as hell should not come into it or distract her from the job at hand.
Gregor is a rare “White Tiger” shifter who has been drafted in to stop a potential war between other shifters. The fact he has the hots for Dominique's luscious and curvy body should not distract him from his important task. He knows he should really not be thinking about sex when there are lives at risk and usually Dominique is much more professional then that.
However, sometimes a Tiger has to do what a Tiger has to do and for Dominique a Tiger might just be too much to resist....
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Chapter1
The city was slowly descending into chaos. It was a strange place to be, where the human tensions were spilling over into the shifter community. The cartels were aggravating the communities of supernatural creatures in the area, and now the fight was threatening to break out all over the city. This wasn’t supposed to be her job, she was lamenting it, but she was the only one available to pick this person up from the airport, everyone else was busy trying to stop an all out war from breaking out. She cursed under her breath, careful to control herself even though there was no one around to hear it.
Turning off the romantic movie that had been playing low on the television screen, she started to go over the items she needed to have with her. She loved the smell of her purse; it smelled like sage, yucca flowers and mesquite. It was a very specific smell that focused the old and the new west under a single microscope. She checked the small pouch that carried those supplies. She was happy; it was still intact and in good condition. It meant that she was safe for now, if something happened to that pouch, it would mean that she would be walking into a dangerous situation. She tore the flap off of a cardboard box that she had broken down before. Digging through a drawer for a permanent marker she wrote the name on the makeshift sign. Observing it, she determined that the handwriting was at least legible and might actually be considered neat. Picking up her phone she checked the time, it was almost noon. Then she selected a contact from her recent calls. It had been dialed several times that day for the same questions. Once it connected, she asked once again, “Did anyone else become available?” She almost sounded like she was begging for some good news, and if she had to admit it to herself, she was begging. She would never admit that however.
“No.” The disembodied voice echoed out of the phone. “Do you want me to try to get a hold of someone who might be able to take care of it? Did you have a flat tire or something like that?” The woman on the other end was eager solve any