“Sakura,” he said, toying with his glass of wine.
She tensed, hoping another invitation to bed wouldn’t follow. “What’s up?”
“I have some information I’m not sure about. I wouldn’t bother sharing it until I did some more digging, but since we’re here…”
She frowned. “Come out with it, Roger. What do you mean?”
“A possible shifter sighting.”
“Give me the details. I’ll go check it out.”
He hesitated and then looked into her eyes. “It’s a woman, a very beautiful woman.”
“Oh.”
“Usually the men handle the women, don’t they?”
She nodded. Why was he still being so damn cryptic?
“I know for a fact she flew in late last night. I know where she’s staying, but I didn’t go by there. The hotel. She’s under an assumed name, I’m guessing because I couldn’t find out any details on her other than the flight she came in on originated in Texas. No trails beyond that.”
“So what makes you think she’s a shifter?”
“A tip.”
“What kind of tip? From who?”
He sighed. “I can’t give up every single source.”
“And why not?”
“I haven’t confirmed everything. Remember, I’m building the database. When it’s done, I’ll add everyone to it—everyone who wants to be added. Some like their anonymity.”
Sakura rolled her eyes. “Whatever. But I understand you want to be sure. How about I go feel her out a little? Like you said, we’re here, and if there is a female shifter, I want to get my family involved so they can send someone to deal with her. Of course, if I determine she is and I have the opportunity, I’ll take her out. Period.”
Roger flinched. Again, she was reminded the man didn’t belong in the field. He could never handle her as a lover. Sometimes she came home wanting to vent, to unleash some of the stress, and Adam had listened to every detail of what she’d done, even though he’d been there with her. He understood her ritual kept her sane. Roger would never be able to deal with the violence of her job, even hearing it second hand.
“I’ll go with you,” he said, surprising her.
“No, you won’t.”
“Sakura, you don’t have a protector.”
“Adam is in Miami.”
“Where is he now?” he insisted.
She clamped her teeth together. Despite everything, Roger had sensed her confusion over Adam. He might even realize she wasn’t ready to talk to Adam, let alone take him on a job. She kept assuring herself she’d call and get things straight, but a part of her wanted to put that talk off. Besides, I saw him just this morning. I’m not procrastinating.
“Fine. You can go, but you’ll stay in the car. No arguments. Got it?”
He nodded.
“Let’s go now. No time like the present.”
After he settled the bill, they left the restaurant, and Roger handed her a slip of paper with the name of the hotel where the woman stayed. “The Acqualina?”
Roger led her to the car and held the door for her. “Yeah, she’s got an oceanfront suite there. Only two thousand dollars a night.”
Sakura shrugged, and he blinked at her. She chewed her thumbnail thinking. “What’s she doing here? Meeting someone? Damn, I messed up. I usually handle this better. I killed that guy without knowing if he had family or friends like him. She might have had a connection with him, or there may be others.”
“Maybe,” Roger said. “It’s still worth it to go check her out though.”
“Of course. I want to have something concrete to tell Dad.”
The moment they stepped into the Acqualina, Sakura regretted her more modest but still posh hotel choice. Across the lobby at the check-in desk, a guest had just turned from handling business when a waitress appeared seemingly from nowhere with a tray of drinks. She murmured a few words to the guest, and the guest nodded and took what looked like a cool tropical beverage. She sipped it, smiled in relief, and the waitress disappeared. A bellman whisked the woman’s luggage toward a bank of elevators while the woman followed at a leisurely pace.
“Stay here. I’m going to work my charm,” Roger told her.
“Boy, please, everyone is not going to fall for that smile of yours.”
He winked and strode away. The next thing she knew he returned, and she smirked at him. “No go?”
“She’s not in her room at the moment but at the spa. This way.” He gestured, and Sakura resisted popping him in the back of the head for the self-satisfied air he wore. They headed down a corridor and made a few turns until they reached a small room decorated in rich hazel and cream. Soft leather couches and white candles burned on the tables giving the atmosphere a relaxing feel, and the attendant behind the counter spoke in soothing tones. This time, while Roger engaged her in conversation, Sakura pretended to examine the bath oils on sale. When the woman turned her head, Sakura slipped beyond the counter toward the back. She was met with a row of closed doors and frowned. Short of opening each door to check out who lurked beyond, she considered her next move. Voices around the corner reached her, coming closer, so she pressed her ear to one of the doors, and hearing nothing, ducked inside. The room lay empty except for a bed, a counter with various bottles lining it, and stacks of towels on a shelf. A set of buttons on the wall controlled lighting and music, she deduced by the labeling. Another door at the opposite end of the room caught her attention, and she went to investigate. So far, the decision to come wasn’t working out. Her mind wasn’t in the game. Under normal circumstances, all arrangements would have been made. She would have only to arrive as a guest and soon hobnob with her prey, no need to sneak around at all.
The door turned out to be locked, so she returned to the one she used to come in. A listen at the panels produced no sounds in the hall, so she took a chance and opened the door. One after the other, she listened to each door, not knowing what to expect or what she would hear. When she neared the end of the hall, she started coming to the conclusion that she’d just tell her dad about this woman and go back to her own investigation. Then the deep timbre of a familiar voice stopped her dead in her tracks.
“Aw, don’t be that way, suga’. I know you were with her last night,” said a woman with a saccharin-y sweet voice and a strong Southern drawl. “It’s my turn now.”
“Maldita sea, Laila! We’re not having sex here,” Adam said.
Chapter Six
Sakura froze. She stared at the door as if she could see through it and then backed away. All the while, she felt her mouth hanging open, but she was at a loss to how to close it or get a grip on herself. Pain tightened the muscles in her chest, and betrayal echoed across her skull. Stupid, stupid, stupid, she chided herself in silence. She had no right whatsoever to feel the way she did, and yet tears flooded her eyes and fell down her cheeks. She was blind to where she walked, but she spun around and charged forward anyway. She had told Adam in the beginning they would never be exclusive. He accepted that, but the moment she fell for him—and damn everything she had fallen for him, hard—she dumped all other men. Sure, she kept up the pretense that any day she might pick up a new man, but the truth was, she couldn’t. Her heart no longer belonged to her. Accepting the fact had been near impossible, so she had turned down his proposals one after another. He had every right to be with whomever he chose. The problem was, up until today, Adam had chosen only to be with her.
She scrubbed her face just before entering the spa’s lobby area.
“Ma’am, you’re not supposed to be back there,” the attendant scolded. Sakura ignored her.
“Sakura, what’s wrong?” Roger asked. She ignored him, too.
She kept walking, past the two people staring at her, out into the hall, to the hotel’s lobby, and out the front door. Roger caught up with her and grabbed her arm. He turned her to face him, and as many times as she blinked, she couldn’t bring his visage into focus.
�
�What happened back there?” he asked.
“Nothing,” she muttered and pulled from his grasp. “I’m… I need some alone time. I’ll get back to my hotel by myself. Talk to you later.”
“I don’t feel comfortable letting you go off like this.”
“That’s not your choice, is it?”
He flinched at the vehemence in her tone, but she didn’t have the ability to be nice. If she stood there with him much longer, she’d either attack him or throw up on him. Neither appealed, so she ran away. Never in her thirty-three years that she could remember had Sakura Keith ever run away from anything or anyone.
She kept moving, until she left the driveway and reached Collins Avenue, then turned left. Leaving the luxury hotel, Adam, and Roger behind her, she half walked, half jogged. After a while, her throat burned, a stitch lit up her side, and her feet hurt. She slowed her pace but didn’t stop. After a stop at Walgreen’s on Collins and One Seventy Fourth Street for a bottle of water, she set out again. The busy traffic started to get to her, so she cut through a path alongside some condominiums to the beach. There she slipped out of her shoes and squished her toes into the sand. Near the water’s edge, the sand was cool, and she shut her eyes.
“Hey, beautiful, want some company?”
Sakura opened her eyes to meet the hungry gaze of an over-tanned man in swimming trunks and nothing else. The way he stood made it obvious he sucked in a slight paunch. She gave him a pointed glare. A slow blush crept up from his chest to his face, and he turned away. She thought she heard him let go of his breath. She found an available umbrella with a lounge chair beneath it and curled up on it. Eventually, the sun slid below the horizon.
Sakura leaned back in the chair and tucked an arm behind her head. A shadow moved in her peripheral vision, but she paid it no mind. Not far away, parties swung into high gear as if people used the night as an excuse to act like they had no sense. Music echoed across the water, along with shouts of laughter and cheers. Soon the shadows lengthened, and she let the swish of the waves coupled with the merrymakers soothe the raw pain.
“Found you,” someone whispered out of the gathering darkness.
She leaned up and scanned left and right. No one lurked nearby, but then something zipped from behind, and a hand covered her mouth. She tried biting down, but the man knotted his hand in her hair and jerked her head back. She rammed an elbow backward but impacted with air. Using her weight against him by rolling to the side didn’t produce the results she had expected. He stayed with her. When she hit the sand on hands and knees, he flipped around to lie atop her, crushing her into the soft earth. Bad move, Sakura. You’re in real trouble.
“Do you know what I’m going to do?” he asked, his tone too low to recognize. A tongue along the side of her throat followed the words, and she gagged. He chuckled at her response. “Not that. You have a dirty mind.”
She mumbled “fuck you” against his palm but doubted he understood it. Scouring her mind for some way of getting free or at least calling someone’s attention to her plight, she waited for his next move. What he did next took away her ability to think let alone fight. His teeth sank into her skin, deep, sharp, and very painfully. A cry wrenched from her throat. Although she and her family had speculated, none of them could have imagined what it felt like be changed and to endure the pain spreading fast throughout her body, and ensuring she would never be the same again.
* * * *
Sakura woke on the beach with the sun shining down on her. She lay beside the lounge chair, now turned on its side. A woman stumbled along, holding shoes in her hand, makeup smeared, hair a mess. She met Sakura’s confused gaze and offered a small smile.
“Better get moving before they catch you,” the woman slurred.
Sakura tensed, and fear made her heart pound, but then she realized the woman probably referred to the authorities. She guessed everyone assumed she slept off a strong hangover rather than being the victim of an attack. Remembering her ordeal, she reached a hand to her neck and found—nothing. On her top, the only evidence of the night’s events was a small stain of red. Her skin remained unbroken. Could she have imagined it? Maybe being upset with Adam had thrown her so much she started hallucinating.
“Can I go now, lady?”
She jumped and looked to her right. A young man, early twenties at least, stretched out beside her. Sakura took in his scruffy clothes, his scraggly facial hair, and crinkled her nose at his obvious body odor. The man looked pointedly down, and she followed his gaze to find her fingers curled around his arm in a grip so tight bruises under it were obvious.
“Wha…” She gasped. “You attacked me!”
“No, I swear, I didn’t.” He tugged at his arm, but she held on. Fear widened his eyes. “Please, it hurts.”
She looked between them and spotted her purse. She realized her wallet hung half way out of it, and she guessed what happened. This man had tried to rob her while she was unconscious, and then what? She licked dry lips.
“What happened?” she said in a hoarse whisper.
“I um…” He rubbed the back of his neck, sitting up. “I tried to see if you were okay and you grabbed me. I tried all night to get away, but you held on. I’ve never met a woman so strong. I thought you were going to crush my bones.”
“And you didn’t yell for help?”
He flushed.
Sakura opened her fingers slowly, and as soon as she did, the man scrambled to his feet, fell in the sand, and rose again. He ran full tilt down the beach and disappeared along one of the paths around the side of a hotel. Left alone, Sakura gathered her purse and frowned at all the sand inside. She searched her wallet and found all money and cards present. The blinking light on her cell phone caught her attention, and she checked the messages. Several calls, voicemails, and texts from Adam. None from Roger. Without listening to or reading any, she tucked the phone in her purse and stood to look for her shoes.
The journey to her hotel blurred in her mind, especially with thoughts out of control of what happened to her—what was still happening, from the burning in her arms and legs to the churning in her stomach. Her tongue felt too big and her teeth sharper, but when she reached up to investigate with her fingers, everything seemed normal.
“I’m imagining it all.”
Thoughts of the way she’d held that man for hours came to mind. No amount of training would give her that level of strength. A new idea presented itself while she used her key card to enter the suite. Perhaps she had been poisoned as she thought, and it wasn’t a shifter turning her. She smiled with the hope that this was true, but paused just a few feet into the room. A deep breath burned her lungs, and her purse slid from her fingers. Her legs gave, and she dropped to one knee. Scanning every surface, she judged whether anything had been moved and decided nothing had been. Unfortunately, this didn’t change the certainty that Roger had been in her room. His scent filled her nostrils, and she moaned in anguish. Roger’s natural aroma was wholly male and pleasant, but it was hardly strong. He didn’t wear overpowering cologne, so why the hell could she smell him?
She found the strength to stand and strode deeper into the room. A square of the hotel’s notepaper lay on the end of her bed. A smiley face had been drawn in the middle. Atop it was a scribbled message. “Call me. R.”
He could have dialed her cell or texted her. He had the number. The sneaky devil had decided to worm his way into her private space instead. Why? Pissed, she crumpled the sheet and tossed it into the garbage, then returned to her purse to grab her cell. With fingers poised over the keys, she froze as realization of the truth came flooding through.
Roger came to the room to show her he could, to remind her of his scent, and to nail a particular fact home. He was a shifter, and whatever kind he was, now, so was she!
Chapter Seven
Adam frowned at his phone. No calls. No texts. He toyed with the idea of phoning Sakura again but changed his mind. If she’d wanted to talk to him, she would have
returned his call. He knew she was pissed. After all, he’d left the room without even waiting for her to get out of the bathroom, but he couldn’t explain how he had no choice in the matter. The night before last, he’d been close to crossing the line. Desire like he had never known drove him to take Sakura’s body and use it for his own pleasure. He had never treated her that way and never wanted to again. Yet, even now thinking about her, he’d give his left nut to have her writhing beneath him.
Maldita sea, calm down, Adam.
Arms roved around his waist, and large breasts flattened against his back. He stiffened, clenching his jaw. “How did you find me, Laila?” he demanded.
She chuckled, and he extricated himself from her hold then stepped back. She tapped her nose. “This is very good.”
He glared. “Qué demonios estás hablando?”
She squealed like a schoolgirl. “Oh, I love when you speak Spanish, and your accent gets me wet. What did you just say?”
He drew away when she tried to latch onto him again. Not that Laila Stark wasn’t beautiful. She was. Long tresses of silky black hair flowed around slender shoulders. Wide, green eyes gave an air of innocence that he’d learned right away was deceiving. One might assume her to be in her early thirties, but she bragged to him the first day when he met her that she passed forty-five six months back. Confidence oozed from every pore, but what annoyed him more than anything was the Southern belle wanted him in her bed, and she never stopped trying to seduce him.
“It means what are you talking about,” he supplied with long-sufferance in his tone, hoping she would get the message.
“Oh, well it sounded sexier. Never mind that. When are you going to stop playing hard to get, Adam? The two of us could have a lot of fun between the sheets. Us bears have some hot blood running through our veins. We can hardly stand a day going by without getting our needs met, if you know what I mean.”
He frowned. “I’m sure you can have any man you want.”
Miami Heat Page 6