Tropical Lion's Legacy (Shifting Sands Resort 9)

Graham chuckled. He and Conall had quietly become good friends. Others joked that it was because Conall, deaf, didn’t have to worry about lip reading Graham because he never said anything.

Graham had volunteered to come talk to the Irish elk shifter, mostly because he wanted to confess who he was personally, rather than letting the information get to Conall by the grapevine.

“My real name is Grant Lyons,” he admitted. “I am the blood heir of Aaric Lyons, the man who started the resort forty years ago. It’s in the lease contract that I get first right of refusal on a purchase of the island. If we can raise the funds, we can buy the island at their public asking price, even if there are other buyers.”

Conall looked at him quizzically, but didn’t question the revelation of Graham’s true identity.

Gizelle, on the other hand, was nodding sagely. “You’re from the lion who came before,” she said, as if it made perfect sense. Then she added, “I will still call you Graham.”

“I would like that,” Graham told her gravely.

Conall nodded thoughtfully as he flipped through the paperwork that Jenny had sent with Graham. “I’ll have to consult with my financial advisor, of course. I’m quite interested, but... this is the asking price? Three hundred and fifty million?”

Graham nodded. It was a stunning amount of money. “The sale is for the entire island as a package, almost twenty thousand acres, including Beehag’s compound, the dock, the airstrip, and the resort. That’s the price set by an independent auditor. On top of that, Darla’s mother has filed the lawsuit we were expecting. More than a million.”

Conall closed the folder. “I am only a paper billionaire,” he said frankly. “I have some assets I could liquidate, but most of my wealth is tied up in my business, which is still on the market. We’ve had two buyers now who seemed interested, got as far as earnest money, and then bailed out under mysterious circumstances. If I were a superstitious man, I might suspect a conspiracy.”

“But you’re interested,” Graham said in relief.

Conall looked at Gizelle, who had her legs up the back of the couch, leaning her head backwards off the seat staring upside down at Graham, hand still carefully on Conall so that he could hear.

“We belong here,” he said soberly. “I don’t relish the idea of anyone else getting their hands on the resort with the ability to throw us out or disrupt our peace. I’ve seen some of the prospective buyers that Beehag has brought through, and it’s clear that he’s working to uproot Scarlet from the island. He’s involved with someone subtle and clever, who is willing to use unorthodox methods. My interest in the resort is selfish and personal, but no less sincere. I’ll make some phone calls and get you a concrete pledge. If I could do the full amount, I would, and I genuinely hope you are able to raise the rest.”

Graham bowed his head. “Thank you,” he said, rising and shaking Conall’s hand. “I appreciate it.”

Gizelle let go of Conall as he stood to shake Graham’s hand and Graham caught the brief flinch when she did. “Wait!” she said suddenly, and she vaulted over the couch and disappeared into the bedroom.

“Has she seen Neal yet?” Graham thought to ask, making sure Conall was watching him.

Conall shook his head. “She does things in her own time,” he said patiently. “I’ve had a chance to talk with him a little, though. Good man.”

Gizelle came back out of the bedroom. She was holding a tablet and a pair of earphones. “Can these save Scarlet?” she asked shyly.

Graham exchanged a look with Conall, not sure how to answer. She hadn’t been touching him, and had been facing Graham, so she had to turn and repeat herself to her mate, adding, “It’s my fault.”

“What’s your fault, sweetheart?” Conall asked, concerned.

“When it rains,” Gizelle answered calmly. “And the cage breaks.”

Conall frowned, and shook his head. “You don’t need to give up your tablet,” he assured her, ignoring the rest of her nonsense. “It is kind of you to offer, but you can help me talk with my accountant—that will be a big help.”

“You could help us distract Scarlet,” Graham suggested, inspiration striking. “It’s a secret, that we’re trying to raise the money. Could you help keep her from finding out?”

Gizelle smiled like the moon. “I’m good at keeping secrets!” she said enthusiastically. “Oh! Secrets! We haven’t finished reading The Secret Garden! I will ask her to!”

“She’d like that,” Graham said sincerely to her back as she fled from the house, still clutching her tablet.

Conall smiled fondly after her, then scowled self-consciously when he caught Graham watching him.

“I didn’t mean this exact moment,” Graham said, with an apologetic shrug.

“Like I said, she does things in her own time,” Conall said briefly.

They shook hands again, and Graham went to take the news

to the rest of the staff.

Chapter 27