Tropical Lion's Legacy (Shifting Sands Resort 9)

But before she could speak, he was leading her away. Not to the buffet, as her stomach was hoping, nor to the Den, where her tired muscles longed to crawl into his bed again at last.

He led her past the hotel, still in its shroud, and up the path to his garden.

Alice had suspicions about what he had in mind as he opened the gate for her, but when she expected him to kiss her and pull her into his arms, he only sat on one of the ledges, and pulled her down next to him.

“Graham,” she started again.

“I want to tell you what Scarlet is,” he said unexpectedly.

Alice felt her empty stomach clench.

“I... can’t ask you to do that,” she said mournfully. It was something she hated thinking about; every option was ugly.

“You are my mate,” he told her simply. “And I don’t want secrets from you. I... can’t stand being so close to being able to help you and not doing it.”

Alice gazed at him, alarmed and overwhelmed by the depth of what he was offering.

And she wasn’t sure she wanted to know, because knowing meant she had to decide what to do with the information.

They were quiet a long time, Alice not sure if she wanted to beg him to tell her... or beg him not to tell her.

Finally Graham raised his gaze. “Scarlet’s not a shifter.”

He paused, to let that bomb sink in, and Alice stopped him before he could continue. “She’s not a shifter? She doesn’t have a shift form?”

Graham shook his head. “She’s—”

Alice put a finger up firmly. “Don’t tell me,” she said firmly. “I don’t want to know.”

Graham blinked. “But...”

“I don’t give a damn what Scarlet actually is.”

“You could save your brother, your parents...”

“The guy with the business card? He didn’t ask me what she was. He asked me what her shifted form was. If she doesn’t have one... that’s his answer. And it’s an answer I feel just fine giving him. I’m not giving away Scarlet’s real secrets, and I’m not asking them from you. I can give him the truth, and it doesn’t... it doesn’t feel like betraying Scarlet.”

“He going to accept that answer?” he asked suspiciously.

“I don’t know,” Alice said merrily. “Let’s find out! You have a phone in those gold lamé shorts somewhere? I still have his business card.” Cyrus’ men had frisked her, but hadn’t seen any significance to the card and it had been returned to her pocket. She had memorized the number anyway.

Graham groaned. “Cyrus probably got it. I bet the cost of that comes out of my bonus.”

“When was the last time you got a bonus anyway?” Alice scoffed.

They walked down to Alice’s cottage to find her phone and disconnect it from the charging cable.

“What time is it there?” Graham thought to ask her before she dialed. It was still dark out, but dawn was starting to color the horizon.

“I don’t know what time zone he’s in,” Alice said frankly. “And frankly, it serves him right to get a call in the middle of the night for being all scary and mysterious.”

They sat together on the colorful tropical quilt on her bed, fingers twined, while the call rang through.

This was it, Alice thought. This was her brother’s care and her parent’s house and her mate’s trust, all on the line with a stranger that she didn’t know the first thing about. She thought about Jenny’s ledger, creeping ever so slowly towards an impossible finish line, and what the money left over could mean to that.

She turned the card over in her hands. N. Padrikanth Moore was the most absurd name she’d ever heard, and she now counted a man named Wrench among her friends.

He picked up on the third ring. “Moore,” he said simply, sounding cross but not at all asleep.