Tropical Leopard's Longing (Shifting Sands Resort Book 8)

by Zoe Chant

  He closed the distance between them and took it from her fingers, pausing to kiss her. “But we could probably make some inroads on this drawer tonight…” He selected a silk blindfold and watched her smile widen.

  Chapter 31

  Darla was keenly aware of Eugene’s eyes on her as they all sat for breakfast. Did he seem suspicious? Or just thoughtful? She had wondered at his easy acceptance of Liam’s challenge. Though he’d growled and probably taken his temper out on his staff, he hadn’t done any of the things that Darla had been afraid he would, like threaten Liam’s family, or work harder to persuade her mother that Liam wasn’t acceptable.

  She had the uncomfortable feeling he was waiting for something, like he was still planning to spring some last minute nasty surprise on her.

  She picked at her omelet until Alison kindly said, “It all kind of makes you want to elope, doesn’t it?”

  Darla, caught thinking about Breck, stared at her a startled moment before remembering her practiced laugh. “It would certainly be much simpler,” she said with a smile. “So many names to remember! The left hand takes the chalice, the right hand takes the flower. Don’t drop the chalice on the officiant. The train of the dress always in the right hand. I hope I keep it all straight!”

  Everyone laughed, exactly as she meant them to, even Eugene, and the photographer who had been tailing them all morning snapped a dozen candid photos.

  “It will be the shifter wedding of the century,” Jubilee said in delight. “Did I tell you that I’ve already been contacted by two magazines who want to run a big photo spread on us? I’m still considering their offers, of course.”

  Darla smiled wanly as the others at the table congratulated Jubilee and the conversation once more revolved around her mother. Then she caught Eugene’s narrow-eyed look again, and had to fight to keep her face serene. Did he know? Everyone was giggling over her not-so-secret nights with Liam, but did he guess that it wasn’t Liam’s cottage she was sneaking away to?

  Chef brought her a plate of fruit and rolls, giving her a private wink as she caught sight of a carved rose carrot and blushed. She smiled at him gratefully.

  Liam, across from her, gave her a tolerant shake of the head and put his wrist with the bracelet that was starting to glow into his lap, much as she had hers.

  After the lengthy breakfast, and a parade of formal congratulations from all the new guests, Darla was permitted to escape to the spa, where she could find a few moments of peace with cucumbers on her eyes and let the drone of the other guests fade into the background.

  Laura gave her the hot wet towel to remove the facial, and shared a knowing look and secret smile with her.

  Darla smiled back.

  It was ironic that she felt more included in little staff secrets than she did in her own wedding.

  “We’re going to see that the event hall has been decorated according to my specifications,” Jubilee said, interrupting the moment of peace to haul her away from the spa. “And that the dais is completed and the shelter for the vigil doesn’t look too cheap. I want everything perfect to start things off tomorrow night.”

  She had a new audience for her lavish plans, so Jubilee was in her element, extolling in great detail how she had faithfully researched dragon custom to come up with the most authentic ceremony possible. Distant aunts, dragon socialites, and important people from the guest list that Darla had dutifully memorized the week before followed her, chattering about how lovely the resort was, and admiring Jubilee’s thoroughness. Darla trailed at the rear of the party, watching the photographer dart among them to snap celebrity shots.

  Chapter 32

  “Don’t forget,” Travis said mockingly. “The bunting has to be exactly 24 inches from the ceiling. From the ceiling, not from the trim.” His imitation of Jubilee’s voice was close enough to elicit laughter from the rest of the staff working on finalizing the decoration of the event hall. Even Graham, hauling flowering plants in big pots, gave a guffaw.

  Breck, at the top of a ladder with the staple gun, a measuring tape, and a roll of the fluffy bunting, defiantly attached it 25 inches below the ceiling.

  There, he thought sourly. Wedding ruined.

  It was the last day before the ridiculous two-day ceremony began, and he was in knots. This was his last night with Darla. His last night before he lost her forever, and dammit, he needed to make it memorable.

  But sex didn’t seem like the answer.

  He loved their bedplay, and there was no doubting that she enjoyed it equally, but he felt like there was something more meaningful he ought to be doing. Something she would treasure forever.

  “Wedding party incoming!” Jenny called urgently from the door. “They’re crossing the lawn now!”

  Staff scrambled.

  Breck abandoned the staple gun and measuring tape, letting the bunting unroll, and scaled down the ladder hastily.

  Travis hissed and pointed to the supply closet as he went to take Breck’s place. “Back in the closet with you,” he teased.

  Breck skidded across the hall and wedged himself in with the chairs and tables and seasonal decorations, just as Jubilee marched in with Scarlet and a contingent of important looking people, gushing over the hall that she had spent the past several days criticizing.

  Breck left the door cracked, so he could watch. Beside Jubilee, Alison looked like she’d rather be anywhere. The party with them was the sort Jubilee clearly moved with: rich, blooded society types wearing overstated jewelry and flashy silks.

  Then he saw Darla, at the back of the party, drifting behind them looking as dreamy and serene as an expectant bride ought to look. Someone had put the sparkly bride sash on her again.

  He watched as the party inspected the work in progress, giving noises of approval over the various decorations and speculating over improvements. Helpful suggestions were offered, and Jubilee added a laundry list of things to Scarlet’s list as the owner wrote them down without comment.

  Darla’s eyes strayed back to the far end of the room where Breck was watching from the storage room. After he had scanned the crowd to determine that no one else was looking his way, busy with Scarlet and the others looking at fabric swatches and candles, Breck edged the door open wider and blew her a kiss.

  Her eyes opened wider, then crinkled into a helpless smile. It was her real smile, not her perfect society smile, and it gave her dimples.

  To his delight, she trailed back to his end of the event hall as the others gathered to leave, ostensibly gazing up at the decorations being hung, but one eye for the storage closet. She stopped nearby, studying, to all appearances, the large native Costa Rican artwork hanging on the back wall.

  Breck pushed the door a little further open, watching the crowd. They were discussing the outdoor decorations now and starting to stream out. The rest of the staff was being dispatched to other tasks, or hauled along with the wedding party. Breck opened the door just a tad further, and waved her in enthusiastically.

  Smothering her giggles, Darla dashed into the tiny closet and threw her arms around him as he pulled the door shut. “I shouldn’t be here,” she whispered in his ear as he kissed her neck.

  “I’m irresistible,” Breck teased her, then she was kissing him back and all he could think was how right this was, and how perfect, even locked in a dark storage room, trying not to let the chairs around them rattle when they accidentally ran into them.

  “I should get back to the group,” Darla said reluctantly, slowing her kisses.

  “Run away with me,” Breck said impulsively. “Forget the wedding, forget them all. We could run away to the mainland and live footloose lives on the beach eating bananas and coconuts.”

  She gave an inhale. “We could steal the boat, sell my jewels…”

  “Make love in the surf every night.”

  “Together,” Darla said longingly.

  “Forever…”

  For one blissful moment, Breck let himself dream.

  A te
nt on the beach, a simple life with his mate, Darla always by his side.

  But guilt drew him back. “I couldn’t do that to Scarlet and the resort,” he said regretfully, remembering Graham’s words.

  “I couldn’t do that to Liam and the home,” Darla agreed with the same reluctance. “We’d leave a wake of terrible things behind us, and… I couldn’t face my reflection in the mirror if I caused that kind of mess for my own happiness.”

  “One more night,” Breck said mournfully. “We have one more night.”

  One last kiss, long and lingering, and Darla sighed. “I really have to get back. They’ll wonder where I am, and if they caught us…”

  “I know,” Breck said, but it was another moment before he could let her go, leaning his forehead against hers in the darkness.

  They cracked the door and surveyed the fortunately empty event hall, and then Darla slipped out, straightening her sash carefully before walking calmly across the room as if she had simply been enjoying a moment of quiet reflection before catching up with the wedding party.

  Breck escaped from the closet when there were no sounds of the party returning and went back to the ladder. He climbed it slowly, looking down over the large room thoughtfully as he picked up the staple gun.

  He wanted to give himself utterly to her, and lacking that, he wanted to send her away with some kind of token. Jewelry seemed pointless, and he had nothing that seemed appropriate. Tears in a bottle? Something from his drawer? A letter would surely be too incriminating.

  Nothing was right.

  He savagely stapled up the next gather of the bunting and scaled down the ladder to move it and put the next section up.

  Anything of value he could give her, she’d be able to buy something twice as good for herself. He wanted to give her something… permanent. Something she’d always have. A tattoo, he thought wildly, though he had only the foggiest idea how those worked and had no desire to go ask Wrench for advice on the topic.

  Something she couldn’t buy… something she couldn’t do…

  Breck almost fell down the rest of the ladder as the perfect idea hit him.

  Chapter 33

  “Where are we going?” Darla asked in a whisper, giggling, as Breck, after a lingering kiss, did not draw her inside his room, but led her by the hand up past the hotel to the very top of the resort in the darkness. Her bracelet glowed faintly in the darkness.

  “I’ve got a surprise for you!” Breck said mysteriously.

  “Is it something from your drawer of goodies?” Darla asked eagerly, already feeling naughty for lurking through the velvet midnight.

  “Better,” Breck promised. Then he hushed her as they tiptoed past the entrance to the resort. Scarlet’s rooms were dark. A small shape disconnected from one of the shadows in the courtyard, startling Darla.

  “That’s Tyrant,” Breck said reassuringly near her ear. “Just a cat, not a shifter.”

  Tyrant followed them curiously to the door of the courtyard and decided against pursuing them out into the dark drizzle.

  Past the low stone wall that marked the top edge of the resort, Breck led Darla to the parking lot, where the resort van seemed to be the only thing waiting for them.

  Darla expected to get in and drive somewhere, but to her surprise, Breck took her around to the back of the van. “I’m going to show you how to change a flat tire,” he said gleefully.

  “In the dark?” Darla exclaimed. “In the rain?”

  “Do you think flat tires only happen on sunny days?” Breck scoffed. “Of course not!”

  He opened the back doors of the van. “Usually you’ll find the tools in the back near the tire wells, or in a compartment under the floor here.” He showed her where they were cleverly tucked and told her what each of them was.

  Then he showed her how to remove the spare tire from underneath the van.

  “I’m not really dressed for this,” Darla said cautiously, as she meticulously brushed the dirt off of her pants after manhandling the spare to the side of the van. It had at least stopped raining.

  “I suppose you will plan your flat tires for days you are wearing coordinating work overalls,” Breck teased her.

  Darla pinched him, which resulted in being kissed breathless. “Alright, I’ll stop complaining,” she laughed, drawing away reluctantly. “What do we do now? Do we lift up the van first? On that jack thing?” The contraption looked far too small and insignificant for the task.

  “A good guess,” Breck said. “But no — first you have to loosen the lug nuts. If you try to do that after you’ve jacked it up, you’ll only rotate the tire.”

  He gave her the tire iron and turned on a flashlight.

  “Righty tighty, lefty loosey,” Darla said with determination, and she set to work.

  The nuts gave her no trouble, between the tire iron and her own shifter strength. Breck stopped her before she removed them completely. “You don’t want the tire falling off on you when you jack it up,” he reminded her.

  “I never would have thought of that,” Darla confessed. “I’m so stupid.”

  “You are not stupid,” Breck growled. “Don’t ever think that just because you don’t know something.”

  Darla looked up at him. It had stopped raining, but they were both completely soaked. In the faint, indirect light of the flashlight he was holding, he looked like big and dangerous crouching beside her. Then he grinned at her, and her heart did a little flip-flop in her chest.

  “Isn’t this fun?” he asked.

  “You have a weird idea of fun,” Darla told him, but she was grinning back.

  It was fun, she realized, as Breck started talking about how the van was put together, and why you always had to use a piece of the frame structure to jack it up. “Try jacking it up on the body out here somewhere, and it will just crumble when the weight of the van is on it,” Breck explained. “That’s just plastic. Your user manual will have advice about the best place to put a jack, or you can just look for a good solid piece of frame.”

  They crawled around in the mud and dirt once the jack was up and the tire was off, shining the flashlight on all the bits and parts of the underside of the van as Breck pointed out what they all were.

  Her head spinning with axles and undercarriages and oil pans and mufflers, Darla finally stopped listening and simply gazed at Breck. He was explaining something about exhaust systems and oxygen sensors, and he was so animated and so dear that Darla could barely breathe.

  It wasn’t just how badly she wanted his touch, it was being with him.

  It was the way he laughed, and the way he made her laugh.

  It was the way he cared more about how people felt than what they thought of him, so entirely backwards from anyone else she’d ever known.

  It was being dirtier than she’d ever been in her life, and feeling cleaner.

  This was what having a mate could be, she realized, aching.

  And she was so glad she’d been able to know that.

  Breck glanced over at her and fell silent as he recognized that she wasn’t listening. “You… okay?” he asked quietly.

  Tears sprang to Darla’s eyes. “Yeah,” she said honestly. “I am.”

  He reached awkwardly over in the cramped space to touch her face gently with a dirty finger. “I know it’s our last night. I probably should have… fed you chocolate-covered strawberries or massaged you with scented oils, or…”

  “This is perfect,” Darla said.

  Breck’s face was an art study of dramatic lighting, the single flashlight casting harsh shadows over the planes of his handsome face. “I wanted to give you something that you could take with you. Something no one could take away.”

  “You did,” Darla said, meaning it in so many ways. She drew in a careful breath. “Let’s go put that tire on.”

  They scooted out from under the van, and Breck directed Darla in wrestling the spare tire onto the lugs but didn’t once offer to help her. He showed her how to put on the nuts
evenly using a star shape to keep it balanced, and let her lower the creaky jack herself and give the nuts a final tighten.

  “You did it,” Breck said proudly, as she stood back and tried to brush the worst of the mud from her damp pants. “You changed your own tire.”

  “I did it,” Darla realized.

  Breck was close behind her, and she shivered.

  “Are you cold?” he asked, wrapping his arms around her.

  She turned in his arm and looked up at him. The flashlight was wedged in the open van window, pointed at the tire, and it cast the barest light over his face, but her bracelet was glowing bright enough now to reflect in his beautiful eyes.

  “You tell me,” Darla murmured, rising on her toes to kiss him.

  His arms tightened, and he met her mouth with his own, hungry and desperate.

  They made love slowly, removing damp layer by damp layer, kissing and caressing and whispering things that weren’t promises.

  She tried to memorize the feel of his shoulders, the way his hair slipped between her fingers, the taste of his mouth. She wanted the feeling of his hand in the small of her back to be imprinted there forever. She pressed her breasts against his kisses, wishing she could bottle the sensation it raised in the hollow of her throat and the pit of her stomach.

  The creaky resort van was not the most luxurious of beds, but neither of them cared.

  “I love you,” she told him, as they joined at last, wedged awkwardly across the back bench. “I will love you forever.”

  He gripped her harder and made a wordless noise of grief and pleasure and agony that echoed the her own conflicted heart.

  “I love you,” he told her softly in reply. “I will, always.”

  It was the only promise they would ever get.

  Chapter 34

  The back seat of a van was not the most comfortable place for two people to lie. Breck’s arm was wedged uncomfortably against a seatbelt, and every time Darla shifted in his arms, he got an elbow somewhere tender, or a limb went numb.