Tropical Tiger Spy (Shifting Sands Resort 1)

Tony growled, and rolled out of the beach chair, wrapping the towel around his waist. He'd become used to walking around without any covering, and it certainly simplified shifting, but he was still a little concerned about sunburning his more delicate parts.

There was an easy set of stairs up to the pool, where tables with umbrellas and lounge chairs were about a quarter full of guests in various stages of allowing sun on their skin.

He dropped himself easily beside a woman sunbathing alone in a generous spotted bikini that left acres of skin exposed. She spilled out over her lounge chair, and it groaned beneath her weight as she shifted to look at Tony. The gaze she gave him over her sunglasses suggested breezy confidence and amusement.

“Hello, Handsome,” she trilled at him. “I've seen you talking with all the guests and was beginning to feel a little left out.”

Tony had considered his efforts to get information out of the other guests and staff to be subtle, and was left a little dumbfounded by her odd mix of flirtatious and deeply genuine.

“I'm Magnolia,” she said, extending one hand just a little.

Tony reached forward to shake it obediently, finding unexpected strength in her thick fingers. Her nails, he noted, were perfectly manicured.

“I'm looking for someone who knew Angelica Grayman, a guest here about three months ago. I understand you've been here that long?” Tony wondered if he sounded to her as much as if they were on opposite sides of an interview table as he did to himself.

“Honey, I've been here for more than a year,” Magnolia said expansively. “I thought I was coming for a short vacation, but Shifting Sands will get under your skin like sand in your shoes if you let it.”

Tony refrained from arguing against the appeal, but found himself feeling hopeful that possibly he had finally met someone who could help him find answers. The staff had been close-lipped across the board, and the owner was the worst of them. The other guests were largely short-term: happy to help but not useful.

“Did you know Angelica?”

“She was a shy thing,” Magnolia confirmed. “Kept to herself, took meals early. She was a gorgeous Borneo bay cat, if I recall. Kind, but a little distant. Is she in some kind of trouble?”

Tony wished he knew, but gave the same brush-off that he answered other curiosity with. “I'm just trying to find out where she went from here. Did she ever mention another possible destination? Was there anyone she spoke about?”

Magnolia rolled one shoulder in a shrug. “Not to me, she didn't. Sorry I can't be of more help, cherie.”

Tony believed her. “Thank you anyway,” he said gruffly.

Magnolia smiled at him, and he realized that she was one of the most unsettlingly beautiful people that he'd ever met, every inch of her generous flesh glowing with self-confidence and sincerity. He felt somehow better after talking with her, even so briefly.

He looked up to see Jimmy, one of the oddsbodies who worked for Scarlet, coming out of the pool mechanical and laundry rooms. Any peaceful feeling that Magnolia had left him with vanished into irritation with the idea of Scarlet.

He got up abruptly, muttered a standard farewell, and walked past the pool to head for his cottage. It was time to stop pussy-footing around and get some answers from Scarlet.

But first, he'd put on clothes.

Chapter Three

The resort was laid out in a crescent, with tiers of cottages along both sides of the slope to the ocean. There were grassy lawns and tidy stone footpaths throughout, with beautifully groomed bushes providing privacy for each of the cottages. The large dining hall and recreation buildings were in the center of the spread.

All Amber could see of them from here were the gleaming tile roofs. Beyond those, she could see the glint of the pool area, the beach just past it, and then the incredible stretch of blue ocean. She could just hear the pound of the distant surf over the sound of the wind ruffling the tropical plant leaves.

As she walked along the winding path towards her own personal mark on the map, she marveled at the beautiful landscaping–it was all the perfect blend of tame and wild, and she was so busy admiring the array of flowers that she nearly walked into a gardener who was trimming back some wild brush.

He was wearing a long-sleeved shirt with the resort logo and full-length pants, but neither did much to hide the fact that he was incredibly ripped beneath them; arms as thick as her legs were wielding huge cutte

rs as if they weighed nothing.

“Sorry,” Amber said breathlessly, juggling her carry-ons. It was a shame that the staff didn't partake in the clothing optional portion of the resort.

The gardener did nothing but glare at her accusingly, as if she had interrupted a valuable ritual. Finally, he grunted a grudging apology and moved his wheelbarrow out of her way.

Amber had to rip her eyes away and walk forward. She smiled to herself as she went. Maybe she could indulge a little vacation fantasy of hers while she was here and find a hot shifter for a roll in the sheets. One-night stands weren't her sort of thing, but on vacation, one didn't have to act entirely in character.

She glanced back at the gardener, who was chopping down branches angrily. Someone a little friendlier would be nice, even if he was a tasty chunk of meat.

Amber giggled to herself, remembering Scarlet's rule against predation. Did men count?