Tropical Leopard's Longing (Shifting Sands Resort 8)

So go, his leopard urged. Go find them.

Breck hesitated. His mate.

Why had they run away?

Maybe they didn’t want to be found.

“If you’re done admiring yourself, are you ready for tonight’s menu?” Chef was standing with his thick arms crossed.

Breck gave him a sideways smile that must have been a better attempt than his earlier grin at Scarlet. “It’s all about appearances,” he said with at least a hint of his usual flippancy as he gave his tie one last tweak.

Chef harrumphed. “Baked chicken breasts stuffed with fresh spinach and gruyere cheese, with an olive reduction beside baby red potatoes and peas. The other choice is a homemade vegan pasta with a sweet pepper and truffle sauce.”

Breck cataloged the information away without writing anything down. His memory was not eidetic, but he was extremely good at remembering details and never needed to write down orders. “Got it.”

“Not too many people tonight,” Chef said, turning back to the ovens with his nose testing the air. “You should get out of here early.”

Breck hung one of the crisp white napkins over his arm, sucked in his breath, and went to see if his mate was among the diners already seated.

But no one there gave him the lodestone pull that the snow leopard had earlier. Breck swallowed his disappointment and went to do his job.

A few giggling girls wearing bridesmaids sashes reassured him that putting his flirtation on autopilot wasn’t failing, and a table full of grandmothers gossiping like hens made bawdy counter-offers and winked at him. Finally, he moved to top off the water at the last table, where a young man sat alone near the deck railing at a table set for four.

He was stunningly good-looking, straight from the pages of a cologne ad, with dark hair and features that hinted at Asian ancestry.

“Well, hello handsome,” Breck said, automatically turning on the charm. “I’m Breck and I’ll be your server today. If there’s anything I can get you, please don’t hesitate to ask. I’d be happy to get you a drink to occupy your tastebuds until the rest of your party gets here.”

Only then did he notice the thick pale-gold bracelet that encircled the man’s left wrist.

Startled and breathless, he looked up into the man’s face.

And was completely confused.

This was not his mate.

The bracelet was identical to the one that the snow leopard had been wearing, and too distinctive to be a coincidence. But his own leopard had utterly no recognition of this person, and Breck felt no desire for him at all.

Moreover, he had not reacted to Breck’s habitual overture.

Breck was excellent at reading people. He could pick up the faintest signs of discomfort, and knew how to recognize the tiniest flicker of interest.

When he flirted with straight men, he often got a mixed reaction — some were embarrassed, some even got angry or defensive. There was almost always surprise, at first, and often curiosity. Gay men usually responded with interest, or at least evaluation. Even gay women reacted to his flirtation, with dismissal. Whether it was challenge, desire, or a brush-off, there was always some hard-coded response.

But this man didn’t react in the slightest.

He wasn’t flattered by Breck’s teasing, and he wasn’t off-put by it. He wasn’t… anything.

He simply smiled as if amused but not really affected, and moved his waterglass closer to Breck. “I’ll wait, thanks. Ah, it looks like they’re just arriving anyway.”

“Oh, Liam, darling!” A tall, elegant woman wearing far too much jewelry and a sash that read ‘Mother of the Bride’ simpered in past Breck. “Darla, come sit next to your fiance. Such a fine-looking couple you make. Eugene, you sit here, darling.” She fixed her gaze on Breck and gave a stare that passed disapproving straight to loathing. “I’d like a white wine, something dry and not too cheap.”

But Breck’s eyes were only for the young woman beside her.

She was not quite as tall as too-much-jewelry woman, and more lushly curved. Her strawberry-blonde hair was elaborately styled and was heaped on her head with flowers and jewels. The sash she was wearing said: Bride.

And her eyes were the same stunning blue as the snow leopard’s.

This was her. This was his mate, this was his everything.