Everly fumbled with his briefcase, undid the latch, and opened the satchel. He pulled out a thick file and offered it to her. “For your perusal. I should tell you that Ace, to my knowledge, isn’t on the premises. He has his own private security system. Banan hardly ever leaves the computer room, which connects to his suite of rooms on the other side of the resort where the family resides.”
She flipped open the dossier and scanned the first report. “And Riktor?” He would be the one she wanted to avoid the most. When she’d turned eighteen, her father, in a desperate bid to pair her off and make up for the past, had tried to convince old Maxwell to a matchmaking scheme: Mickey and Riktor.
Maxwell nixed the idea. No reason why, just no. She didn’t know if Riktor had been made aware of the offer. Out of all the brothers, she found him the most mysterious and dangerous—and the most attractive.
“He’ll be spending most of your stay in the offices. It’s tax time, and he’ll be overseeing the accountants and the finances as well as making sure that the payroll is correct. He’s very hands on.” Everly shifted from one foot to the other, nervous energy fluttered in the air coming from his direction.
“What aren’t you telling me?” She had an idea but wanted it said out loud.
Everly glanced down at his briefcase. His fingers fiddled with the latch. “I’m uncomfortable with my role in this. As I’ve said, I’ve known those boys since they were pups. This feels like a betrayal to me.”
Michaela shut the folder. “You are doing your job, but I will say I don’t want to take anything away from the Brody men. I really don’t. OK?” She didn’t add that her father wanted her to accept the deal.
Everly bobbed his head. “Thank you, Ms. Shaw.”
“Great, now I know you had a lot more to tell, but I’m feeling tired from my trip,” she lied. “I want to be left alone.”
Relief flitted across Everly’s face. “If you have any questions, my card is in the file with my room number on the back. I’m going to be staying here for the next three days to check in on the boys. Have a pleasant stay.” Everly headed to the door and showed himself out, pausing to let the bellboy bring in her luggage.
She tipped the bellboy and locked the door behind him. Once alone, she kicked off her shoes and settled down on the couch rather than explore. The first thing to do: check in with her father. She dug through her purse and pulled out her cell phone. Mickey hit speed dial.
He answered on the first ring. “Mickey, my love, how was the flight? Did you lose your lunch? Did they at least give you peanuts? Tell me everything.”
Michaela smirked. “You owe me five dollars, Dad, close but no cigar. The ride was OK, no peanuts, though. Everly met me at the pier and gave me the information. All but one of the brothers is in-house, and they’re all busy.”
“Ah, so no encounters. Good. We don’t want them to get wind of this visit, not yet, anyway. Mom is baking up a storm. Snow cookies, your favorite. Blizzard has arrived, but don’t worry, the snow blower is all ready to go, and I’m gonna get your brothers to pull their weight this time. No showboating for me this year. Your ma says so. Anyway, power is holding, which means no fireplace. Bah. So sad you’re missing all this. But you have fun, kiddo, and don’t forget to bring me back something nice so I can give it to your ma and say it’s from me.”
Michaela laughed. “Not a chance, Dad, not a chance. Do your own shopping. And I’m not sad to be missing the snow, just don’t eat all the cookies, OK?”
Her father chuckled. “That’s what you get for leaving for a week, but I’ll try. Love you, Mickey. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”
“Love you, Dad. And streaking around the swimming pool while security chases me isn’t on my agenda.” She hung up before he could try to con her into getting into trouble.
She checked her watch. Only half an hour had gone by since she’d arrived. Not dinner time yet. Jet lag hadn’t set in. She decided to read the dossier.
She opened the folder and started to read. The first page contained information all about Riktor: eldest brother, new alpha, and co-owner of the Golden Wolf Paranormal Resorts. He had no contenders for the title, which was good for such a small pack.
Mickey wondered if he was strong enough to take on a challenge. He’d gotten the title based solely on blood, not on a show of strength. Good for their bank accounts, but not so good for withstanding the onslaught of being hunted by other packs. How strong was Riktor Brody?
Based on the figures listed in his file, he was worth well over ten billion dollars. Most of it came from the resort and smart investments. The rest came from physical assets such as cars or art. He didn’t take a lot of risks and didn’t date, at all. His last potential mate was a human woman from college who became a high school algebra teacher. Did that mean he wasn’t interested in werewolves or shifters in general? Most shifters stuck with their kind.
She raised an eyebrow at how deep the dossier went. Surprisingly, it even included his bedroom wants and needs. She read the list of kinks. Her face flushed with heat. Domination, bondage, role play, voyeurism. All done at Black Howl, the brothers’ private adult club, at the other end of the five-mile island.
It had been a long time since she’d gotten a good spanking or taken part in a scene. Her pussy contracted and her panties grew damp at the very thought of a strong man tying her down and teasing her with the tip of a flogger before inflicting that sweet sting on her ass and slit. She shifted around in her seat. Her wolf sat up. It had been so long since both halves of her had been fully satiated.
Michaela’s gaze snagged on the photo of Riktor included in the dossier and slid from his trimmed beard with just a smattering of gray hairs to his dark blue eyes, framed by ink-black lashes and thick brows, to the sharp planes of his cheekbones, to his full, sensual lips. Her pussy fluttered. A kernel of yearning grew in her belly.
She read the list again and ruminated over one item in particular: bondage. The phantom scent of leather floated in the air around her, and she could almost feel the press of warm, smooth fabric against her wrists and ankles, tethering her to a bed or table, maybe a strap across her stomach or over her back to really keep her from moving. How far would he go? What types of creative things could he come up with to give her that full satisfaction that she’d been missing? Her heartbeat kicked up. She panted.
Michaela shut her eyes, shook her head, and took a few shallow breaths. It had been so long since she’d done any kind meditation. She loved allowing her mind to clear and the ability to let go. It’s what attracted her to domination and bondage: the trust and turning over the responsibility to someone else for her care. Doing that felt better than going to the spa or a massage, and coupled with someone she loved and trusted, it was better than chocolate. OK, not better than but close.
Maybe it could happen with Riktor. The thought came out of nowhere. She frowned. As much as she enjoyed looking at his photo and having this new knowledge about him—and could maybe use the picture for late-night fodder when porn wouldn’t do—they had nothing in common beyond their preferred list of kinks and their new positions in werewolf society.
She opened her eyes and picked up the file again, flipping past Riktor’s page without taking a second peek and studied Ace’s profile. Nothing about him screamed, take me now. Instead, she wanted to stay clear of him as much as possible, and his absence only helped that desire. Michaela hated playboys. Had dated a few and always found them wanting the appearance of the relationship rather than the real thing. Commitment-phobic to the nth degree and always ready to cut ties if she even brought up staying at their place for more than a night.
Michaela wasn’t sure what could force Ace to settle down, but at least he didn’t have any unclaimed children running around, at least not according to the detectives Everly had hired. How a secret baby scenario could play into Maxwell Brody’s instructions, she didn’t know, but at least there wasn’t anyone who could come back to haunt the family with a paternity suit
.
Out of boredom, she skipped the last few pages of the information on Ace and flipped to the section dealing with Banan. She smiled at his file photo—an adorable geek with glasses, but everything from the neck down was all man. He had the same dark hair, dark blue eyes, and was clean shaven with the same broad shoulders, hard wall of muscle and trim waist, and long legs. All his brothers were muscular, based on how a well-cut suit looked on all of them. In his picture, he sported slacks, blazer, and a comic book hero T-shirt underneath. He reminded her of one of her younger cousins, Rosaleen, who was obsessed with comic book heroes.
She read further into the details about the staff, security, and the inner workings of the hotel. Nothing about the adult club. Curious. Was this something the brothers did on their own? She scribbled down a note to herself to ask Everly why he’d mentioned the club but didn’t go into any detail. There better be a damn good reason, otherwise she’d feel he was trying to hide something.
She checked the time. Five-thirty. “Time to shower and change. I got here at around four o’clock so that should be a good time for dinner, right?” Her stomach rumbled, and she had a hankering for pancakes.
She shut the file and put it on the table, then stood and headed for the closed double doors. The bedroom, just as she’d thought. The room’s color scheme seemed to be a reverse of the living room and kitchenette area. Burgundy with dark grays and gold accent colors covered the walls. Black-and-white photos of the universe decorated the space. A queen-size bed—with a padded, black leather headboard—was piled high with iron- and burnished gold-colored accent pillows and a duvet in a rich Bordeaux color dominated the space. A line of rectangular windows allowed in the late-afternoon sun and showed off priceless views of the sunset, ocean, and the beaches below.
To her right was another set of French doors to the balcony. To her left, another door that when opened revealed the closet. She shut the doors and went straight through to the bathroom. With the shower running, she stripped out of her clothes and wandered around while things heated up.
She picked up a brochure sitting next to a basket of spa goodies on the counter of the double sinks. The pamphlet offered personal massage, spa, and meditative services with just a phone call. That impressed her. She liked the personal considerations for people who were a bit too shy for a public spa, or who just didn’t want to leave their rooms.
Michaela put the brochure down and picked up a bottle of bath milk, unscrewed the top, and took a deep inhale. High-quality lavender, sage, and hint of lemon and vanilla. Lovely.
Steam billowed over the door to the shower. She secured the top to the bottle, replaced it in the basket, and padded over to the glass doors. Humid air moved around her in an opaque cloud. She shut her eyes and savored the warmth. After a long, tense plane ride, this was heaven. What the mini-meditation session started, the shower continued.
Her stomach growled, reminding her that she hadn’t eaten yet. With a sigh, she opened her eyes and went through her shower process, careful to keep her head away from the deluge of hot water. She finished, exited the cubicle, and grabbed a towel on the way out.
She dried off and slipped into a robe before returning to the bedroom. Next time she would try the jets.
They had placed her luggage at the foot of her bed. She opened one of her suitcases and pulled out her makeup bag, some black lingerie, and a red wrap dress that would lovingly hug her generous curves. She went through the rest of her luggage and grabbed a pair of strappy stiletto sandals and a black clutch.
After she dressed, Michaela unwound her hair from the bun and finger combed it. A bit of scrunching helped her natural curls maintain their shape without looking too wild. She chose a simple look: eyeliner, mascara, and red lipstick to match her dress.
She blew a kiss to her reflection and left the room.
The quiet on her floor made things seem serene. She tilted her head back to take in the late afternoon sky from the skylights. Streaks of pink, red, orange, and purple painted the clouds.
So different from her family home set in a small town surrounded by mountains and forests. There she had seclusion, privacy, and a place to shift and hunt without encountering many humans. It also served as an emergency safe place if they needed it. Being a close-knit family had its advantages and disadvantages. She couldn’t suppress her curiosity about just how close the brothers were.
Time to find out.
She reached the elevators and pushed the call button. The doors slid open on a whisper. She stepped into the cabin and pushed the button for the second floor.
The elevator stopped, and the door opened once more. She arrived at the same floor she and Everly had walked up to earlier from the lobby. On either side lay the dining rooms. Guests had their pick of the more casual one on the left or the more private dining room on the right. From her vantage point, she could see booths and small, intimate tables set for only two.
Michaela decided to go for the option that would allow her to people-watch and observe the guests. She turned right and entered the more easygoing restaurant.
A waiter came up to her. “May I help you?”
She turned her attention to the young man, dressed in black slacks, a crisp white shirt, and a waist apron. “Yes, table for one please.”
He smiled at her. “Wonderful. Do you have a preference for where to sit? And the type of meal you would like? We serve breakfast and brunch all day, and we can accommodate any food allergies or dietary needs.”
She cast her gaze over the space once more.
“I’d like a booth, please.” The banquets with their plush black leather looked cozy and private, but not too far away. “And I’d like to see a breakfast menu. Do you have macadamia nuts?” She crossed her fingers hoping he’d say yes.
Her waiter beamed at her. “Yes. Since we’re so close to Hawaii, we get shipments all the time. Would you like an assortment of macadamia nuts sent to your room? Our gift shop has wonderful gift baskets filled with candies and snack foods. I can get you a listing.”
Joy filled her. Macadamia nuts were a luxury she rarely had, given the shipping price and living on the opposite coast. “Please. You can order it for me?”
“Yes, it will be charged to your room or a card of your choice.” He tilted his head toward the area she would be seated in. “Please follow me. All our food is made from scratch and fresh to order. I can recommend our breakfast parfaits with homemade granola. And our pancakes are heavenly, so light and fluffy, or the crepes with fruit or chocolate filling. Absolutely delicious.”
Her stomach rumbled just hearing those options. She followed him around tables and chairs until they stopped at a booth with a view of the dining room and a clear sightline to the pool area. After she slid into the seat, her waiter handed her the menu for both the restaurant and the gift shop.
“I’ll start with a cappuccino, large dollop of whipped cream, please,” she requested while she perused her options.
“Excellent. I’ll be back in less than five minutes.” He bowed and left her.
She relaxed against the plush leather seating. All in all, this looked like a promising start to her stay.
Now, how did she deal with the problem of Riktor Brody?
CHAPTER TWO
Something was wrong. Riktor could feel it. He gritted his teeth and tightened his right hand into a fist. His wolf let out a soft grumble. The rumble filled his head. He shut his eyes and allowed the vibrations to swell in his body, but didn’t let the sound come out of his mouth.
He opened his eyes and spotted Everly pacing out of the corner of his eye. The lawyer had arrived a few minutes ago, no word or reason given, he just showed up.
And during tax season…
I don’t need this stress… Riktor thought to himself. Aloud he growled, “Would you calm the fuck down? I’m trying to get the numbers right.”
Everly ran a hand through his hair, mussing the silver tresses. Riktor had never seen Everly this nervous before. Some
thing was up.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Riktor barked out. “Unless this has something to do with Mickey Shaw, I don’t see why my day has to be interrupted. Either say what you have to say or get the hell out. We’re busy.”
A ripple of power zipped up his arms and shot around his chest to buzz in his heart. A cool brush of power coated his skin. The wolf nudged the barrier that kept him inside and allowed Riktor to move around in human form. Riktor clenched his jaw. Calling on his willpower, he pushed the lupine back with a mental burst of magic. Going full animal was not in the cards right now.
Everly’s head shot up. A deep crimson flush washed over his features, and he made an audible gulp. “Sorry, Alpha.” Everly bowed at the waist.
Riktor rolled his eyes. “Get up. Now, why are you here? Any word on Mickey Shaw? Or those Shaw bastards? A phone call would’ve sufficed.”
The door opened and Amber, Riktor’s assistant, strode into the room in a quick step, papers in hand. She came around his desk, handed him the stack, and pointed to a column with a trembling finger. “As you can see, sir, everything lines up.” She tapped a few lines of numbers.
Riktor refocused his attention and studied the figures. He did a quiet tabulation in his head. “Yes, so far I can see that. What I don’t see are the earnings reports for the Black Howl. Why are they not on my desk?” He tilted his head up and glazed at the nervous young woman—his third assistant this year. If she didn’t work out, he’d have to call the temp agency again. They’d already informed him that if he requested another person, they’d sever ties with him. Was it his fault that he demanded professionalism and the ability to carry out even small requests without botching them?
Amber inhaled, and her face turned bright red. “I’ll get those right away, sir.” She rushed out the office door.
Riktor settled back into his chair with a groan. “Bloody hell. She wants to run her own business one day and she can’t even carry out a simple demand.”
Riktor Page 3