CHAPTER THREE
Mickey tried not to stare when Riktor strode across the dining room and out the double doors to the patio. Her wolf sat up and panted. Heat flooded her body. Pheromones swirled around her. A flush filled her face, neck, and chest. She blinked and shook her head.
“Shit! Stop that,” she ordered her wolf.
The damn wolf ignored her.
Fire continued to pump through her veins. Her pussy contracted, and her panties dampened. The heat increased. Sweat pearled on her upper lip and at her hairline. She swallowed. I need to calm the hell down.
Mickey reached out and picked up her coffee mug and took a healthy sip. Bitterness, sweetness, creaminess with a hint of something extra rushed over her taste buds. She focused on the taste, the warmth of the liquid, and the coolness of the whipped cream that stuck to her upper lip.
She giggled. It had been awhile since she’d indulged in whipped cream on anything other than ice cream. The childish joy that filled her drove away some of her arousal and calmed her down a bit.
Mickey took another sip of her coffee until the sensation died down. Only a hint of her pheromones continued to waft around her booth, but not enough to draw any horny werewolves on the prowl for a temporary mate. She had not come here for a quick fuck. If she were honest with herself, she didn’t really know why she’d come here in the first place. This was enemy territory, after all. The Brodys wouldn’t welcome her with open arms and an understanding mindset. She had no desire to tangle with Riktor. She took her time with her meal, savoring every bite. Her pancakes were light, fluffy, and buttery. The bacon was cooked just right for her taste—not too crispy.
Her waiter returned. “Is everything to your liking? I’ve sent the gift basket up to your room.”
“Thank you so much. Everything was just perfect.” She pushed away her plate and sat back to sip the last of her coffee.
Her attention returned to Riktor sitting outside. With her keen eyesight, she saw a large T-Bone steak, fries, and asparagus. His body language was relaxed and open but with just a hint of tension. Since he was distracted by his meal, she took this time to study him.
His thick, wavy dark hair had been combed back, but a few strands graced his forehead, long enough to grab during an intense oral sex session. Her fingertips tingled with the desire to feel if those tresses were soft or stiff with product. Riktor’s dark blue eyes, framed by sooty eyelashes, seemed more intense than his picture let on. What would it feel like to have that stare settle on her?
As if hearing her thoughts, he glanced in her direction.
She shivered. Her nipples pebbled, and her gut tightened in response.
The gaze didn’t last long. Much to her disappointment, his attention returned to his meal.
She let loose a breath she hadn’t realized she’d held. Over the rim of her mug, she continued her perusal. The dark gray suit pants and jacket, the pristine, button-up, white shirt and crimson tie with a matching pocket square made her heart flutter. She had a weakness for well-dressed men. Riktor was dangerous indeed. The clothing emphasized the wide breadth of his shoulders, trim waist, and length of his legs. She wanted to see if he was just as fit as he appeared under all those clothes.
The spark of arousal returned. She ducked her head and tried to focus on her disappearing coffee. Soon there wouldn’t be any left and then what would she do? She couldn’t just sit there and stare at him until he finished. She needed to explore the resort, figure things out for herself, and plot a way to approach the brothers without raising their hackles. This had to go smoothly.
A memory of her father’s voice rose up in her mind. “You want to know who you’re dealing with, baby girl? Look ’em in the eye and shake their hand. Or cheat and get a detective.” Her father had guffawed.
Despite the jesting, in the past she’d taken his advice. It hadn’t failed her yet.
To distract herself from thoughts of Riktor, she opened her pocket book and took out the brochure on the Black Howl she’d found in a stack of island attraction pamphlets in her room.
The brochure was impeccably classy and discreet. The club was made up of five floors. The first floor was dedicated to meeting with people, grabbing some snacks and a drink—no alcohol was allowed on the premises—and private rooms for more getting-to-know-you type things. Half the second floor was made up of intimacy suites for couples who needed to revive that spark with the help of three on-hand sex therapists. The other half of the floor was for private erotic movie viewings or readings. The third and fourth floors contained playrooms for more intense activities—spankings, light bondage, or sensory play—and rooms for full scenes, with Dommes and Doms on hand to help and monitor the situation.
She grabbed her purse and slipped out of the booth. Mickey resisted the urge to take a parting peek at Riktor and made a straight line to the elevators. A ripple of awareness danced on the back of her neck and on her arms when she entered the lobby. She felt the weight of eyes on her from head to toe but kept going until she reached her destination. Mickey pushed the button and waited for something to happen.
“Hello, Michaela Shaw, or should I call you Mickey?” a man said, his voice a deep rumble next to her ear. His body heat pressed against her side. “What brings you to our little corner of the world?”
Her heartbeat sped up, and her wolf reared back. Mickey glanced next to her.
Ace Brody stood next to her wearing a tight Henley shirt with the top two buttons undone, worn jeans, and scuffed up black boots. His dark brown hair rippled down in waves to dust his jaw line. He’d had it shaved close in the most recent picture she’d had of him. Either his hair grew fast, or that visual ID had been an old one.
Mickey vowed to take that up with Everly. She took a moment to study him. Despite knowing someone had been watching her, she hadn’t detected a shift in the air or scented him or even heard him. Her pulse calmed, her breathing evened out, and she relaxed. No use letting him see her rattled. Bad enough that she’d jumped when confronted by him.
“Ace Brody, I presume?” she said, breaking the silence between them. She didn’t even attempt a handshake at the moment. She intended to find out what he wanted first, besides scaring the crap out of her.
He gave her a grin full of bright white teeth and sharp canines. “At your service. You didn’t answer my question. What brings you here? Did Everly kidnap you and drag you far from home to check out your potential inheritance?”
No emotion or indication of his feelings ghosted over his face.
Two could play that game.
“Actually I’m here to escape a New England winter. Why deal with snow drifts when I can sip mimosas and take in the view?” She met his stare, refusing to back down from him.
Ace frowned. He crossed his arms over his chest, showing off the wall of muscle underneath the thin, tight fabric. “Huh, then why didn’t you register under your own name, and why did Everly check you in?”
“Because I didn’t want to cause a standoff in the lobby. Brodys don’t exactly want to roll out the welcome wagon for us Shaws.”
His lips quirked in a quick smile. Ace shrugged. “Well, Shaws aren’t exactly known for their honor or honesty. Why roll out the welcome wagon when we can send you packing and save everyone the stress?”
She pouted and took a step forward until their toes touched. Mickey tilted her head back to gaze up at him. This close, she could see the small scars and scratch marks over his eye, the corner of his lips, along his jawline, on his neck. Not as handsome as Riktor, but he did have a rugged pull. Just not on her. “Why stress when we can just get along and stay in our own respective lanes? You deal with security, and I’ll deal with enjoying those golden sands, spas, and access to all the macadamia nuts I can eat. Deal?”
Ace let out a deep, rich laugh. “Touché. Just know I’m keeping my eye on you and I will be letting my brothers know you’re here, as well as Everly’s involvement in this.”
Mickey shrugged. “Go for it. Nothing to hide. How about we be cordial this once, hmm?” She took a step back and held out her hand. “Shake on it?” She kept her stare leveled on him and waited to see if he would be rude or play the game.
“Such a cool customer. This should be interesting. Enjoy your stay while you can.” Ace didn’t bother to shake her hand. He brushed past her and headed toward the Employees Only area.
Rudeness it was.
She exhaled and turned back to the elevators, fully aware of the eyes on her.
The doors slid open. She stepped into the lift, pushed the button for her floor, and waited for the elevator to move. The hair on the back of her neck stood up. Awareness shot through her of just how many mechanical eyes were on her. She resisted the urge to flip off or blow a kiss to whoever was watching. It wouldn’t do to antagonize the Brodys while on their turf.
Her phone vibrated in her purse. She ignored it. If it was Everly, he would just have to wait. The shaking phone stopped, only to start up again a few seconds later. She gritted her teeth and willed the damn thing to stop. If it were a family member, she could say that she couldn’t get a signal. If it was Everly, and he had caught the preliminary event, who knows how panicked he could be at the moment.
The mobile went silent just when the elevator arrived at her floor and the doors slid open. She stepped out and strode toward her room. The phone started up again. She unlocked her door and stepped inside. Once out of observation range, she opened her bag and dug around until she found the damned cell phone and checked her messages. Everly.
She played the voicemails.
“Ms. Shaw, please, call me. It’s an emergency.”
Each message went along those lines.
She dialed his number. Agitation filled her.
He answered on the first ring.
She didn’t give him a chance to even say hello. “You’re a werewolf, act like it! If you’re calling about Ace Brody, we already met. No one ended up bloody, and we behaved ourselves in public. There is nothing to worry about, so stop calling me,” she growled.
“Ah, I see. It was unfortunate that you two met before you could get a proper feel for the resort, but that’s not the emergency. I have to leave. A client of mine died unexpectedly, and I have to return to the mainland, so I won’t be here to defuse any animosity if the Brodys do confront you. I doubt you’ll need to worry too much about Banan, but Ace and Riktor could present unique challenges. I am sorry about this. Truly. I’ll check in with you tomorrow to see how things are going.”
She exhaled. “Sorry for biting your head off. I totally understand. Have a safe flight,” she added, even though she didn’t really care one way or the other.
“Thank you, Ms. Shaw. Good-bye.”
She returned the phone back to her purse, kicked off her shoes, and headed for the couch, where she flopped down. “I’m alone, in paradise, and I currently want to fuck my rival alpha and punch his brother. Goodie. What else could happen?”