He’s an arrogant, reclusive artist, and a complete and utter prick.
Why can’t I get him out of my head?

Ryan Raynard is driving me insane.
First, he doesn’t deliver his paintings to my art gallery on time.
Then, when I show up at his crumbling gothic mansion to collect them, he has the nerve to treat me like a piece of furniture.

Goddamn him. If he wasn't so hot ...
That messy hair, those come-to-bed eyes, the chiselled body of a Michelangelo statue …
If only he saw me as something other than the mousy art curator trying to cramp his style.

As if wrangling the temperamental artiste wasn’t enough trouble, now I’m being chased by shapeshifting foxes, and a malevolent werewolf has put a price on my head.

If I want to keep my job – and my life – I’m going to have to accept Ryan’s help.

Ryan Raynard may be my only hope. If only I can keep my hands off him …