Palm Haven Shifters: Complete Five-Part Series

by Sennah Tate

Instantly, lava coursed through her veins and she felt like she might faint.

  “I… I’m sorry?”

  Sean crossed his legs and chuckled. “Sorry, I’ve been a little nervous about this meeting. Getting ahead of myself.”

  Her jaw dropped. “Why in the world were you nervous?”

  Something bright and warm flared to life in his coppery eyes. “I’m quite solitary by nature.”

  Then she spotted it, a dancing fire in his aura. He tried to keep it hidden, but colors were kind of Emily’s thing — she’d been reading auras before her first ABC book.

  She gasped. “You’re a tiger?!” And then she clapped a hand over her mouth, horrified by the outburst.

  Sean laughed again and sent that rush of lava southward. “Shhh, don’t blow my cover,” he said, his eyes crinkling around the edges.

  Emily felt her face heat with embarrassment.

  Completely tactless, Emily, she scolded herself.

  “Right, so… You don’t want to look at my sketches?” She offered impotently, waving the portfolio in front of him, hoping desperately to take the focus off of her faux pas.

  He shrugged and she couldn’t help but watch the way his broad shoulders moved in that suit, wondering what the expensive clothes concealed.

  Her mouth watered just a little and her magic popped like soap bubbles on her skin, making her feel tingly all over.

  Sean shook his head. “I think you should see the space before we go too much further. It’s… a bit hopeless, really.”

  Emily nodded. “Okay, that’s a good plan. How’s tomorrow?”

  Sean smiled, standing. “Not soon enough for me, but that’ll do. It was nice meeting you, Emily. I look forward to seeing you tomorrow. I’ll email you the address.”

  “Of course…” she barely managed to mutter as he left.

  Not soon enough? What did that mean?

  More so, what did this strange flutter in her chest mean?

  That your magic is slutty, clearly.

  She watched through the peephole as he got into a sleek black sports car and drove off, a wave of disbelief and giddy anticipation crashing over her.

  At least one thing was certain: she hadn’t ruined everything. Yet.

  Chapter 5

  SEAN

  Sean pulled up at the valet stand outside the East River Country Club and tossed his keys to the attendant without a word.

  He didn’t want to be here, though he didn’t have much of a choice.

  He’d much rather be anywhere else. Or, rather, one specific somewhere — with Emily.

  Meeting Emily again was everything he’d hoped for, now if only he could overcome his own trepidations and tell her about their past.

  All in due time.

  “Glad you could make it,” Cunningham said in a robust greeting as Sean walked into the lounge clouded by thick cigar smoke.

  “Wouldn’t miss it,” Sean lied. There was another man next to the Elder. Younger, with a pinched face and a haughty expression. Sean instantly disliked him, but maybe he just disliked everything about this whole manufactured meeting.

  “My son-in-law, Randal,” Cunningham introduced the younger man and Sean extended a hand in greeting.

  “I’ve heard a lot about you,” Randal said and Sean couldn’t tell if that was a compliment or an insult so he let it drop.

  “I’m sure there’s plenty to hear, but I don’t think I’m here to talk about myself, am I?”

  Elder Cunningham gave a raspy chuckle and pushed a tumbler of scotch into Sean’s hand. “You always were a keen observer. That’s why I knew you’d be a good investment.”

  Sean resisted the urge to grit his teeth. If the old man was reminding him of his debt, that could only mean he wanted something in return.

  And though he’d only ever taken money from the clan, Sean knew that money wouldn’t buy his way back out of their pocket.

  “So?” He prompted, taking a long swig of the smooth scotch, savoring the burn as it traveled down his throat.

  To be perfectly honest, he didn’t give a damn what the clan wanted. He just wanted to play along enough that they didn’t bother him when it came to Emily.

  Emily. His tiger chuffed in approval at the memory of her in that tight little pencil skirt, the flush of her cheeks when he’d said he admired her, the little look of surprise when he said he trusted her.

  She had no clue the effect she had on him. How crazy she made him. How badly he wanted — no, needed — to have her in his life.

  Sitting still and feigning interest in these two was damn near torture.

  Knowing that he wouldn’t see Emily again until tomorrow was even worse.

  If money could buy time travel, he’d just fast-forward to when they could see each other again, but not even his billions could make that happen.

  “You may have heard things have been getting a little… heated around here,” the Elder said cryptically.

  Sean raised an eyebrow, waiting for more information.

  “The other clans and the witches have grown increasingly hostile and it’s all but outright war right now,” Randal said, his voice sounding less concerned than the Elder’s. Sean knew the type — bloodthirsty. He probably loved the chaos.

  “What does that have to do with me?” Sean pressed. He didn’t want to get involved with any wars. Especially not with witches. Not when Emily was one of them.

  It wasn’t that he shied away from a fight, but he didn’t want to put his mate in harm’s way. They’d both fare better if he could find a way to stay out of it all.

  Elder drained his glass and set it on the table between them with a heavy thud. “You know Tigris doesn’t have numbers on its side. We have assets and cunning, but the others have brute force and overwhelming numbers. We need every man on board.”

  Sean’s fingers tightened on the glass, but he made an effort to keep his expression neutral. “I am at your disposal.”

  No one had said what they expected of him and Sean knew they wouldn’t. This was like meeting with the Godfather: one day, the Elder would call in his favor and Sean would be expected to comply, regardless of what that favor entailed.

  It made his stomach turn just thinking about the implications.

  But refusing now would only make his life much more difficult going forward. Randal looked like the type to enjoy using loved ones as leverage.

  A sudden image of Emily tied up and helpless with Randal’s malicious sneer made Sean’s tiger bristle and he growled.

  Both of the other men gave him somewhat surprised expressions and Sean had the forethought to cover the growl with a cough and another drink. If he wasn’t careful, they’d see right through him.

  After a long moment of silence between the three of them, the Elder nodded and cleared his throat. “Keep your ears open.”

  “We’ll be in touch,” Randal said as they stood and Cunningham clapped Sean on the shoulder.

  Sean waited until they were both out of sight before he let out another breath and ordered a second round from the bar. What exactly had he gotten himself into?

  A couple of hours later, after he’d promptly gotten buzzed and then sobered enough to drive, Sean headed back to the hotel. He had the house, but Cunningham had already showed up there unannounced and it was still decorated for Liberace or something.

  Inserting the key card into the lock, he watched the light turn green, swung the door open to the dark suite and set his keys down on the entrance table.

  “Was wondering when you’d show up,” a voice came from the darkness.

  Again? What now? Sean thought as he clenched his teeth and flipped the lights on, ready to tear into the person that dared invade his space — again.

  The lights came on and his eyes adjusted.

  “You son of a bitch. I was ready to rip your throat out,” Sean laughed, crossing the room to envelop Sloan in a big brotherly hug.

  Sloan smirked. “You didn’t think I’d let your presence go unnoticed, did
you?”

  Sean shrugged. “I didn’t even know you were back in PH. How long you been here?”

  It was odd, the way Sloan’s expression darkened. Was he under the heavy paw of the Elder too?

  “I was called back a couple of months ago. Things have been pretty nasty around here.”

  “I heard. Cunningham made sure in no uncertain terms that I’m one of the troops.”

  Sloan frowned. “Ah. Yeah. No getting away from it, I’m afraid.”

  Sean felt that his old friend wasn’t saying everything.

  “So, how have things been? We haven’t seen each other since… shit, was it the casino opening or the boat party in Chicago?”

  Sloan shook his head with a laugh. “I’d say it was probably Prague, but I don’t remember that week at all thanks to you.”

  They both laughed, reminiscing for a long time about old hijinks and exploits — the things two shifter playboy billionaires got up to could make even the most seasoned partier’s head spin.

  “No more of that for me though. I’ve found my mate,” Sloan said, his expression positively glowing with pride.

  Sean would be lying to himself if he said he wasn’t jealous of that. His heart ached with the absence of its other half and his tiger paced restlessly — he would always be restless until she was at their side.

  “No shit? And she puts up with you?”

  Sloan’s sheepish grin sent another pang of jealousy through Sean, but he was happy for his friend. Truly.

  “So are you planning on sticking around for a while or just passing through?” Sloan asked, shifting gears.

  Sean shrugged, stretching out on the plush couch, his feet up over the padded arm. “Everyone’s been asking that. I was passing through, but something caught my eyes and… I might be sticking around.”

  He didn’t have to say anymore for Sloan to understand completely. A wicked smile spread his face and Sloan laughed. “Never thought I’d see the day. Best of luck to you, man. You’re gonna need it, I’m sure.”

  “Asshole,” Sean laughed. Sloan wasn’t wrong, though.

  Amiable silence spread between them until Sean was brought back to the present moment by a niggling question.

  “You didn’t just come here to shoot the breeze with me though, did you? What’s up?”

  Sloan scrubbed a hand over his stubbled jaw.

  “Can’t a guy just stop by to see an old friend?”

  Sean nodded. “Sure, but you could’ve called me instead of hiding in my hotel room like an assassin.”

  The other man sighed, “Well, you already know about it. I think something big is going down soon. Things have been building and Sarah and I are trying to keep a handle on what we can but…”

  “But there’s only so much you can do.”

  Sloan nodded. “She’s a whiz with research, but we’ve kind of hit a brick wall.”

  “I’d love to help, you know that. But I don’t see how.”

  Sloan shifted in his seat, pointedly looking past Sean. “My actions… Well, they may be frowned upon by the clan.”

  “You mean Cunningham and his sniveling son-in-law?”

  Sloan’s expression turned murderous. “So you’ve met Randal. I’m near certain he’s planning a coup to overthrow Cunningham.”

  Sean whistled. “This is getting dirty, isn’t it?”

  “Yeah. If he asks something of you… you’ll talk to me?” Sloan asked, hesitation making his voice softer than usual.

  Sloan’s nervousness made Sean uneasy. What was Sloan afraid of? He was one of the baddest tigers Sean had ever met.

  Though he did have a mate now. Something to lose. That made the stakes higher than ever.

  “Of course. Thanks for the head’s up.” Sean felt next to no loyalty to the clan — especially one being passed to Randal — but Sloan was like a brother.

  How many things could he juggle? How long could he play the part with so many people before the paths intersected?

  Sloan stood. “I’d better get home to my woman. Don’t be a stranger.”

  Sean stood too and they embraced once more before Sloan left.

  What a day. If Sean thought his return to Palm Haven was going to be uneventful, he’d clearly been wrong.

  A mate. A war. The clan turning on itself.

  As he crawled into bed, he had plenty of things to keep his mind occupied. Promises to the Elder and Sloan and their implication at the forefront.

  But then he reminded himself why he was staying here. Why he couldn’t leave.

  Emily. And tomorrow, he thought with a smile, he’d get to see her again.

  Chapter 6

  EMILY

  “Sonya, can you call and check on that shipment of textiles again? I’m already on the line with the photographer arguing about lighting,” Emily said.

  Sonya took one look at her — Emily knew from putting on make-up that morning that she had bags under her eyes, a fresh stress-breakout on her forehead and she didn’t even want to think about the disaster that was her hair right now — and nodded, pity etched into her features.

  “Is there anything else I can do?”

  Emily laughed, shrill and high-pitched. “Make about a dozen clones of me and fast-forward through the next week?” But before Sonya could answer, her attention was back to the phone “Yes, I’m sure it would be artistic, but how is anyone going to see my designs if you’re trying to make it look like nighttime?”

  Sonya made a face and left the office, mouthing a ‘good luck’ to Emily as she did.

  Why did she ever think she could do this? Emily wanted to bang her head against the desk.

  “Fine, yes. Please do call Shoshanna. I’m sure Design World’s editor-in-chief will love to hear about your opinions.”

  The photographer said a few more not nice things that Emily immediately dismissed and then he hung up the call with an angry slam.

  Why in the world was it her job to deal with that? She just wanted to make pretty rooms. Her specialties were pillows and accessories, not babysitting and hand-holding.

  She cast a glance over to her laptop — the number of emails awaiting her was staggering — and groaned. She still hadn’t had a chance to finalize the study set. She still needed to make a trip to the fabric store just in case and at some point, she should probably remember to feed herself.

  Sonya came back with a dour expression and Emily’s heart sank through the floor. “Where is it?”

  “Kansas City. Flights are grounded,” Sonya said solemnly and Emily cursed under her breath.

  Okay, move the trip to the fabric store up to top priority.

  “Are you sure you’re okay? You look so stressed,” Sonya cooed.

  Emily shook her head and fished in her desk drawer for something to get rid of her splitting headache.

  “How about lunch? Soup and grilled cheese?”

  Emily’s stomach grumbled and she scowled down at it. Traitor.

  Sonya laughed. “I’ll take that as a yes. Give me five minutes.”

  Five minutes, Emily thought. Maybe she could just sit back and close her eyes. Try to relax.

  She deserved it and goodness knows she needed it.

  She’d no sooner closed her eyes than the email client dinged at her and she pried her eyes open with herculean strength.

  Sean Simons — My address

  Oh no.

  She’d completely forgotten about the meeting with Sean in the maelstrom that was her life.

  She looked at the time and jumped out of her seat as if it had shocked her.

  On her way out the door, Sonya appeared from the kitchen with a platter of food. “Lunch is… Are you going somewhere?” She frowned.

  Emily nodded, snatching a triangle of grilled cheese off of the plate to eat on the road. “Sean Simons, I forgot!”

  “Oooooh,” Sonya said, eyes wide, “crap. My bad.”

  Emily shrugged off the apology and shoved the sandwich in her mouth as she grabbed her keys and ran down t
he steps to her car.

  How many bad impressions could she make on this man?

  She thought she was going to throw up. As she climbed the few steps to Sean Simons’ front door – a front door that no one in the country knew belonged to him – she felt her knees begin to quake. She lifted her hand to the doorbell, and a bubble of panic overwhelmed her.

  “What am I thinking? I can’t do this. He’s Sean Simons. Who am I?” She muttered, her hand falling to her side.

  The door swung open without her finger ever finding the bell.

  “Emily,” Sean said. The warmth in his tone made her belly flip-flop.

  Her heart stopped in her chest when she saw him. It felt like she’d just slammed into a brick wall and forgotten how to breathe. He was even more stunning than she remembered from the day before and her magic was friskier than ever.

  She tried to tamp down the sudden surge of hormones her wanton powers sent coursing through her. Magic was manipulative; it would use every trick against her to make her give in to her most primal urges.

  But Emily was a civilized witch. She wasn’t going to throw herself at an attractive man. Especially this attractive man. Keep it professional.

  Emily forced a smile to replace her deer-in-the-headlights look and felt a nervous sweat break out on her forehead. How are you going to get out of this now, genius?

  An eruption of butterflies flooded her intestines as Sean drew her into the opulent abode.

  What had she expected of Sean? He had more money than half of Europe – of course he lived in a palace.

  From the outside, the place looked huge, but nothing could have prepared her for the depth of his wealth. Every surface was made of the finest materials extravagance could buy. Her mouth hung open for a moment as she spun in a circle, trying to take in all of the wonderful details.

  “So, you see how bad it is now?” Sean asked.

  “Um, I’m not sure I follow?” She asked, not wanting to look like an idiot, but his house looked like it was designed by someone way above her pay grade. It certainly wasn’t to her taste — it was so extravagant that it bordered tacky, but she’d never say so.

  “This house. I hired someone else to design it and this is the mess that I came home to. It’s ostentatious. I want a home,” he said. His eyes made her insides warm and Emily found herself nodding.