Beguiled
Table of Contents
“One of the stars in the ascendant
. . .
poised for the
next big step.”—
Publishers Weekly
Praise for the Novels of Maureen Child
Bedeviled
“Child once again excels. . . . Winning combinations of offbeat humor and scary scenarios.”—
Romantic Times
“[A] heartwarming, hilarious adventure.”
—
Booklist
(starred review)
A Fiend in Need
“Amusing chick lit romantic fantasy . . . an entertaining tale.”—The Best Reviews
“Readers who enjoy a hot paranormal comedy are sure to like this well-written tale.”
—Romance Reviews Today
More Than Fiends
“Maureen Child . . . has a sharp, witty voice that will leave readers begging for more.”
—Katie MacAlister,
USA Today
bestselling author of
Up in Smoke
“Fun, sexy, and incredibly entertaining . . . guaranteed to delight. Readers will love this fast-paced winner. . . . It’s simply exceptional.”
—Allie Mackay, author of
Tall, Dark, and Kilted
“A sizzling story . . . fun and fresh reading.”
—Romance Junkies
“Fresh, witty, sexy, and sure to please fans.”
—The Romance Readers Connection
“The dialogue is smart and sassy.”
—Romance Reviews Today
Praise for Maureen Child’s Other Novels
“Sassy repartee . . . humor and warmth . . . a frothy delight.”—
Publishers Weekly
“Maureen Child infuses her writing with the perfect blend of laughter, tears, and romance . . . well-crafted characters. . . . Her novels [are] a treat to be savored.”
—Jill Marie Landis,
New York Times
bestselling author of
Homecoming
“Absolutely wonderful . . . a delightful blend of humor and emotion. . . . This sexy love story will definitely keep readers turning the pages.”
—Kristin Hannah,
New York Times
bestselling author of
Firefly Lane
“Maureen Child always writes a guaranteed winner . . . sexy and impossible to put down.”
—Susan Mallery,
New York Times
bestselling author of
Sweet Trouble
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First published by Signet Eclipse, an imprint of New American Library,
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First Printing, August 2009
Copyright © Maureen Child, 2009
eISBN : 978-1-101-10862-8
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For my mother-in-law, Mary Child
She’s never been a big fan of paranormals, but
she’s always been a big fan of my writing!
Thanks, Mom, for too many things to list here.
I love you.
Chapter One
Being a queen wasn’t the thrill ride Maggie had expected.
Where were the jewels? The crown, for God’s sake? Where were the adoring crowds, simpering minions and life o’ luxury?
Where was the fun? Shouldn’t she at least have had a mall named after her?
So far, being the newly crowned Queen of the Fae had been a royal pain in the ass.
Sure, it had been only a couple of weeks since Maggie had tossed Mab, the former queen, out a window. But come on. No way was Maggie going to spend every freaking day of—oh, let’s see—
eternity
listening to a bunch of whiny Faeries.
Which was why she was back in her own world doing something important.
“I need more snow, Maggie. It has to look really Christmassy, you know? And don’t forget the wrapped presents under the tree. Oh, and the rocking horse—remember the rocking horse.”
“I know, Barb,” Maggie said, forcing a smile at the older woman, who owned Barb’s House of Beauty. Every year, she paid Maggie to paint Christmas scenes on the front window of her beauty shop. And every year, Barb wanted to outdo Sam’s Hardware. Which was no small feat.
Sam’s windows had been painted for two weeks already, so Barb had had plenty of time to study what Maggie had given him and think up ideas for one-upmanship. Always a good time in Castle Bay, California.
A tourist stop on Pacific Coast Highway, Maggie’s hometown was small, familiar and just the antidote she needed for the
bizarreness
that had become her life. The town was slow, except in the summer when tourists clogged the streets and made cash registers ring. During the winter, it was no more than a rest stop on the road, as tourists hit the bigger towns farther north, such as Monterey and Carmel. And that was fine with Maggie.
She liked Castle Bay just the way it was. Here, she was just Maggie Donovan, artist and glass painter. Here, Maggie was Nora’s sister and Eileen’s aunt. She was a tiny part of the community, not some mythic queen expected to ride herd on the weird inhabitants of Otherworld.
Barb went back inside. Maggie picked up a white paint-laden brush, leaned out from her ladder, touched the glass and shrieked like an idiot when Culhane, Fae Warrior, would-be lover and current pain in her ass, popped into existence beside her.
“Damn it,” Maggie shouted, glancing through the window into the shop to make sure Barb hadn’t noticed the tall, dark, gorgeous hunk-of-hormone-happiness appearing out of nowhere. She hadn’t.
Leaning against her ladder, Maggie looked down at him and instantly knew she shouldn’t have. Seriously, the man was just eye candy. Six feet five inches of completely amazing male. He had sharp features, a strong jaw and green eyes so pale they looked like windows into another world. His shoulder-length black hair gave him the look of a pirate, and the white shirt, dark green pants and knee-high brown leather boots he wore completed the picture nicely.
Also he had a great mouth, a nasty disposition and the ability to make Maggie nuts in a heartbeat.
“I cannot believe you have come back here to paint pictures on glass.” He set both fists on his hips, widened his stance and gave her a look that said he was ready to do battle. “You are expected at the castle. Maggie, you must return to Otherworld,” he said, as if issuing a damn command.
That’s what being the head Fae Warrior for two hundred years will do to you. Make you an immortal arrogant bastard.
Culhane had been ordering her around since he’d pushed his way into her life nearly a month ago. Claiming that Maggie’s destiny was to defeat Mab and take over Otherworld in her place, he’d pretty much orchestrated everything to make sure his “prophecy” came true.
Plus, the whole time, he’d been making Maggie crazed with lip-sizzling kisses, and the promise of a Fae-driven orgasm had her strung so tight, the wrong word might snap her in two. He was probably doing it on purpose, too, she thought. Keeping her all stirred up and achy just so she’d go along with whatever the hell he wanted her to do. So far, it had been working. If this was her eternity, there was just no way she was going to make it.
She’d be damned if she was going to be done in by her own horniness. So she was going to cling with both hands to however much “ordinary” she could get. An ocean breeze slid past her, ruffling her shoulder-length auburn hair and carrying the scent of the sea, which was just two blocks away. At the skate park across the street, kids were riding the cement slopes on their boards and shoppers were competing for parking spaces.
All blissfully normal. All quiet. All ordinary. Except for the fact that she had a damn Faery practically snarling at her.
“I can’t go to Otherworld right now,” she told him. “Busy here. See? Actual
work
.”
He snorted. “You are a queen, Maggie. You do not have to work.”
“Hah!” She turned to the window and laid a brush full of white paint down into the first of several snow-drifts. “Seriously? Being Queen is a boatload of work. Listening to all of you guys whine about what needs changing and what shouldn’t be changed and how I should do it and how I’d better not do it. How’m I supposed to know who to listen to?”
She paused for breath, added more snow to the window and then kept talking.“I’ve been Queen for like two weeks, okay? I don’t know anything about Otherworld—”
“I can teach you.”
“And I don’t want to know,” she added, giving him a quick glare over her shoulder. “I didn’t ask to be Queen, you know. You guys came to
me
.”