BERKLEY® SENSATION
Berkley Sensation Books are published by The Berkley Publishing Group,
a division of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.,
375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014.
BERKLEY SENSATION and the “B” design are trademarks belonging to Penguin Group (USA) Inc.

To James, who is my heart

CONTENTS

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

CHAPTER NINETEEN

CHAPTER TWENTY

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

Acknowledgments

Many thanks to Lauren Dane, Megan Hart, and Jody Wallace for reading through and helping me iron out the wrinkles. Every writer needs people to give them the unvarnished truth about a book. I value you all very much.

Thanks to Brenda for being her wonderful, caring self. Who would have thought that our strange first meeting in the eighth grade would have developed into a lifelong friendship? I’m so glad it did. I’m a better person for knowing you.

CHAPTER ONE

ONE

HOW TO CATCH A WARLOCK 101. ISABELLE COULD teach that class.

Club music thrummed through Isabelle’s body. Eyes closed, she swayed her hips, dancing more to the ebb and flow of the subtle emotions around her than to the beat. Intoxicated by the sea of euphoria and lust, she allowed the seductive, primal weave to free her for a few blessed moments.

The trap she’d set for the warlock also trapped her.

A man’s hands grasped her waist. A lean, muscular body pressed against hers from behind. She knew that touch, those hands and the subtle, woody scent of his expensive cologne. It was the warlock she hunted. The one who thought she was a woman just like any other. Her eyes came open, the moment of serenity vanquished by his presence.

Anyone able to see her face would’ve glimpsed revulsion pass over her features before her lips curved into a coy smile. She snuggled back into Stefan Faucheux’s arms. He rocked her back and forth, changing the sway of her body to the beat of the music. Luckily, Stefan had no empathy. He couldn’t sense how much she abhorred his touch.

Somewhere nearby a camera flashed, then another. Paparazzi. The media fawned over Stefan, an ultrarich playboy. Any woman he dated was a source of particular interest. Isabelle had managed to stay on Stefan’s arm longer than most. She was the mysterious red-haired, green-eyed woman about whom no reporter could find much information. Isabelle had paid a lot of money to ensure that was so. She’d worked hard to make certain she interested Faucheux for a while, too. A lot of planning had brought her to this night.