Even if the world did end, five is far too many men to handle. Isn't it? After the Final War, I have been doing just fine. I have a lovely cave, a darling vegetable patch, forest views . . . and if loneliness sometimes squeezes my aching heart, well, my books have always kept me company. That is, until a pack of men chase me from my home and right into the arms of several rather large, rather brutish ex-Army Rangers. And those brutes have the nerve to make me the rudest offer I've ever heard.Their protection-for my body. The whole thing is absurd. Scandalous. Perverted, even. I mean, just the thought of doing that with five men, well, it's . . . it's . . . I take the deal. Okay, so it's possible I find them indecently tempting. They're intriguing, certainly. But these men also have secrets and histories so fraught with emotion, I'm not sure how I can untangle them all. Or whether they'll let me. No, my brutes have made it excruciatingly clear where they think I belong-beneath them, between them, bent over backwards for them . . . but certainly not beside them. And I don't think that's going to work for me.