by Gynger Fyer
“Hey, Angel, Michael wants you.”
Inwardly sighing, Angel turned to the chief security officer, who stood tall in his navy-blue uniform. Mitch was one of the Tiki’s best assets; smart and dependable. He’d worked with her father for decades, knew everything about casino management, and helped her run the day-to-day operations of the Tiki Grand Hotel and Casino. He was like family.
“Did he say what he wanted?”
“Nope, he just said to come get you; said it was real important.”
Angel’s eyebrow lifted. If Michael said something was important, chances were it was about money, and that was nothing for her to be in a rush about. Ever since her adoptive father Leo Palermo passed away and left them both the casino, Michael had been resentful and more irresponsible than usual.
With his suave, third generation Italian-American good looks, Michael was a playboy. He wasn’t, nor would he ever be, a businessman. A casino owner couldn’t have a gambling problem and stay in business for long, and that’s what Michael had, even if he didn’t want to admit it.
Angel loved the man she’d always thought of as brother, but there were times when she really didn’t like him.
She’d been adopted at the age of two by Leo and Maria Palermo. With her golden complexion and thick, curly hair, it wasn’t as if she could blend in with the Italian family. When she was four and asked her mom and dad why she “looked different” from them, they’d explained she was adopted and that she was their child now. The Palermos let her know she was loved no matter how outwardly different they were.
Two years after they’d adopted her, they’d had Michael. Her relationship with Michael had, for the most part, been a typical brother and sister one. That was until the year Michael turned twenty. That was the year Maria Palermo succumbed to breast cancer. Maria had been the buffer between Michael and their father. Leo Palermo wasn’t one to mince words or coddle. He admired strength of character and intelligence. Without their mother, Michael’s spoiled, careless nature couldn’t be hidden. He liked flashy things and enjoyed the benefits and respect of the Palermo name but didn’t want to do anything to uphold it.
Leo Palermo loved his son, but he clearly saw Michael wasn’t a smart businessman. He was prone to gambling and had landed in trouble on several occasions. That was the reason why their dad relied on her instead of Michael to get things done.
Angel enjoyed working side-by-side in business with her dad. She learned everything from him; how to read people, when to show strength, and when to back down. She’d always had an aptitude for the finer points of casino management and genuinely enjoyed working at the Tiki Grand with her father.
When Leo passed away, ownership of the Tiki Grand was split evenly between her and Michael. She knew it would be difficult to be business partners with him, especially when he spent more time gambling and chasing women than managing the casino, but things were becoming impossible. She was surprised he’d come in today. He usually only came in to ask her to sign on a withdrawal, something she wasn’t about to do anymore.
They both received monthly revenues from the casino, which should have more than taken care of their meager living expenses. They lived in suites on the top three floors of the Tiki Grand. They didn’t pay for rent, utilities, or meals; that’s what disgusted her most about the way he ran through money. She was sick of Michael spending his earnings and coming back for more.
In just a few more months, things would change. Angel had been saving her earnings and nearly had enough money to buy Michael out before his spending bankrupted them both. Once she bought his share of the Tiki, she planned to get a loan to renovate the entire casino. She’d been planning it since their father had passed. She’d even been able to talk him into doing a few minor cosmetic changes to the casino before he became ill.
Once he’d been diagnosed with lung cancer, she put the plans on hold and spent all of her time trying to see to his comfort. Her dad refused to let his impending death slow him down. He went on to manage the Tiki for nearly three years before he passed. In that time, Michael moved to L.A. with dreams of being an actor, a dream that never materialized. He wound up back in Vegas living off their father’s name and money even as he faded away.
The reminder of her loss put a lump in her throat. Angel missed her dad. He’d been a tough man, but with her, he’d always been gentle, patient, loving, and strong; qualities that seemed to pass Michael over.
She turned to Mitch.
“Can you watch the floor? I’ll be back as soon as possible.”
“Sure will, Angel. Take your time and don’t let him get to you.”
“I’ll try not to, but if you see a body tossed out of the window, you’ll know I failed,” she mused before walking away, leaving Mitch to take her place near the roulette tables.
Angel made her way to the private elevator bank at the back of the casino. Along the way, she observed the worn carpets, outdated Hawaiian décor, and walls in need of new paint.
Hang in there old girl. I’ll have you fixed up and competing with the big boys in a little while.
It wasn’t just a pledge, it was a promise. Standing in front of the elevator’s polished silver doors, Angel checked her appearance. She was wearing her classic navy-blue business jacket, white button-down shirt, and a navy pencil skirt. Her sheer, black stockings were nearly transparent against her honey-colored skin, and her comfortable black pumps, although a bit worn, were still in good shape. She liked to keep things simple. A good pit boss was never seen or heard until necessary. People tended to change their behavior when they knew they were being watched. She was in the business of catching cheats, so being able to blend in was to her benefit.
Angel pushed the pins farther into her up-do and arranged the loose curls framing her face. Ruddy brown eyes stared back at her, and for the millionth time she wondered if there was a woman or man out in the world who shared them with her. Being adopted had a way of making her question herself.
Not that the Palermos had been bad. They’d been wonderful parents, but when she smiled and her dimples showed, she couldn’t help but wonder if her biological mother had those same dimples. When she got nervous and her body got all cold and clammy, she wondered if she’d gotten that trait from her biological father. And the rough circle of skin at the base of her spine…well, she wouldn’t think about that particular trait. She’d grown up in a casino. It was an unorthodox yet loving environment. She’d gone to college, had boyfriends and lovers. For all intents and purposes, she was happy and well-adjusted, or so she thought.
She and Michael sometimes had knockdown, drag-out fights, like most siblings she supposed. Yet all in all, she was normal…So why did it all seem so fake to her? As if she was living someone else’s life.
The doors to the elevator opened, and two blonde waitresses in grass skirts and coconut bras stepped off, chatting and whispering. They immediately straightened up when they noticed her. The smiles they pasted on their faces were as fake as the silicone implants threatening to spill out of their coconut shells.
“Hi, Miss Palermo,” they greeted her in unison.
Angel nodded curtly to both women, careful not to show her distaste at the amount of fake breasts they were exposing.
She hated the new outfits the waitresses were now wearing. They were cheap and tacky in her opinion. However, Michael was partially running the show now. When he said he wanted to get more involved in day-to-day decision making, Angel knew she would regret it, but what could she do? Not only was he her partner, he was also her baby brother. She wanted him to become more responsible, and she’d promised their dad she’d watch out for him. She stepped back a bit a let him have his way with a few minor changes.
Michael decided to make it his priority to bring more business their way. No matter how much she tried to persuade him otherwise. He would not relent when it came to the costume changes for the lounge girls, saying they needed something to attract the customers. The more skin showing the better w
as his motto. Angel gritted her teeth in memory before boarding the elevator and pressed the button for the top floor.
The women turned and glanced at her before giggling.
“Stuck up bitch,” she heard one of them say before giggling again.
Angel was used to snide remarks. She wasn’t the type to be overly friendly with the staff. Her goal was to be courteous and fair, but she deliberately kept her distance. Some employees didn’t understand the need for boundaries, so they talked about her. For the most part, she didn’t mind; it came with the territory. Managing people was a tough job. What she did mind was mean-spirited disrespect. She’d always had really good hearing. Sometimes it was a blessing and sometimes it was a curse. Angel just wasn’t in the mood to let things slide. She’d see that both women were collecting their final pay by the end of the day. She never forgot a face and she didn’t take outright insults well. They’d learn that fact the hard way before they left.
•●•
Jacques Bertrand studied the man pacing before him with hooded eyes. He hated cowards, and Michael Palermo reeked of it. Michael was obviously a rich, pampered, pretty boy with poor self-control, a fact that happened to work to Jacques’s benefit.
It almost seemed unreal that as his thirtieth bayou moon approached, things seemed to finally be looking up for him.
“I just need to umm, speak with my sister about this.”
“Is she aware that I now own your share of the Tiki Grand?”
Michael turned red and fidgeted behind the large wooden desk, which looked too mature for him. He was of average height, with tan skin and ebony hair. His clothes looked expensive yet disheveled, and unless his senses were playing tricks on him, Michael Palermo was a tad bit high.
“Since she manages the day-to-day operations, I think it’s best to discuss things while you’re here…i-in case she h-has questions.”
Jacques continued to stare at the man without reacting. He always found silence did more to unnerve a person than any amount of brute force, and he wanted him nervous. The more nervous Michael was, the more information he’d be able to obtain.
The elevator pinged and Jacques froze. Without warning, his skin began to itch the way it did before he shifted. The urge to shift had steadily decreased the farther he’d gotten from the bayou. Their pod’s priestess had warned him this would happen. It was dangerous for a gator shifter to stay away from the bayou for long periods. Eventually, the desire to shift could become so suppressed, a gator shifter could lose the ability altogether. The only exception was for gator shifters who’d never shifted before.
Jacques had been away from the bayou for two weeks, and in that time he hadn’t wanted to shift even once. It was as if his beast had been slumbering. Yet at that very moment, he was nearly on the verge of a full shift. Jacques tried to keep a measure of control but knew his urge to shift could only mean one thing. His mate was nearby and in just a few minutes would finally be in the same room with him. He’d nearly waited his entire life to meet her. Her disappearance had become somewhat legend in the bayou.
“H-here she is now,” Michael said, stuttering and hopping up from his chair like a scared rabbit before striding toward the office doors.
The doors opened and Michael stood in front of the occupant. Jacques was already on his feet, arms held loosely by his sides.
“I have some business to discuss with you, so please be nice, Angel.”
His sensitive hearing picked up Michael’s whisper before he ushered his sister into the room. The moment Jacques saw her, he could feel his skin grow cool and rough. He didn’t need to glance down to know dark-green leathery patches were spreading down his arm and peeking out from the cuff of his shirt, ready to creep up the back of his hand. He balled his hand into a fist and tried to get control of his beast before it was too late. He could feel the texture change on his shoulders, back, and chest. It was her. Without a doubt, he was face-to-face with his mate, and she was beautiful.
“Angel, this is Jacques Bertrand.”
Angel. Yes, indeed she was an angel. Her skin was the color of the golden sunset on the bayou. Wide, cat-like eyes with perfectly arched eyebrows looked up at his six-feet-two-inch height with curiosity and caution. He was a big man and was used to uneasy stares. As she drew closer, he noticed her solid curves and the clean smell of a lush rain forest. What a contradiction since Las Vegas was in the middle of a desert. He liked it.
“H-hello.” She nodded at him before looking at Michael.
“Angel, have a seat,” Michael encouraged, motioning to the chair next to Jacques.
“Angel is my adopted sister,” Michael nervously explained, trying to give an explanation for the differences in skin tone.
Angel sat down, looking at them impassively. He couldn’t read her emotions, which threw Jacques off. He should have been able to read her thoughts. If they were mates, their consciousness should have formed an instinctual bond. He looked at the base of her neck and saw the flutter of her pulse there. She was not immune to him after all.
“Angel, I’ve decided to sell the business.”
“What?”
That got her attention. She sputtered, struggling for words.
“Yes, I’ve sold my share of the Tiki to the Bertrand family.”
“Wait, I’m sorry. Come again? What do you mean sold? The Tiki was not up for sale, Michael.”
“Well, my half was. I grew up in a casino and I’m tired of it.”
“You didn’t even offer to sell it to me!”
“Listen, I called you in here to introduce you to your new business partner. You never wanted me in the business anyway. So now I’m out.”
Angel got up from the chair she’d occupied so briefly. Jacques could feel the energy change in the room. All of a sudden the air was thicker. He looked at Michael, who was attempting to leave. No, he wouldn’t feel it, but the beast in him did. Angel was hurting. Angry and hurting, and Jacques struggled with the beast within who wanted to calm his mate.
She plunked her right fist on her hip.
“How dare you put this at my door? You’ve been gambling away all of your money and now you sell your half of the casino to this, this thug, and you expect me to believe you did it of your own free will? How much do you owe?”
“My business is just that! I don’t owe you an explanation. Have a great life…sis!”
Michael turned his back and started walking to the door.
“You fucking ungrateful coward.”
In the blink of an eye, Angel was around him and lunging for Michael’s back with an inhuman snarl. The sound must have taken Michel by surprise because he jumped and swung around in time to see Angel shift into a gator. Jacques lunged for her and held her down on the ground. Angel snapped at Michael’s shoe before he could move. Michael screamed loudly and then passed out. Jacques struggled to keep her from doing the unconscious man any harm. Lord almighty she was magnificent. Her powerful tail whipped around, and she tried to roll him so she could be free. Instead he held her and probed her mind. He had to link with her before someone came to find out what all the noise was about.
“Get off of me! Get off of me! What’s happening?”
Finally, a connection.
“Calm down, cher, before someone comes.”
“W-what’s happening to me? What have I done?”
The fear was evident in the vibes she was sending his way.
“Shhhh, it’s okay. You shifted, that’s all.”
“Shifted? Into what? Why is my vision so crazy? What happened to my voice?”
“You’ve got to calm down, Angel. I’ll explain everything, but first calm down. It’s the only way I can help you. You’ve got to breathe, okay?”
“But…”
“Trust me, cher, you’re going to be okay. Just breathe and focus on my voice.”
Jacques continued to cover her and talk to her as she calmed. Before long, she was human again. Which was another matter altogether. In human form sh
e was naked as the day she was born. Angel was now all soft and jiggly curves. Her body was warm and damp beneath him. The fragrance she was wearing combined with the dampness of her skin made him want to lick her from head to toe. His cock stiffened against the crease of her bottom. Without thinking, he moved against her and moaned.
“Get off me, you pervert!” she gritted out through clenched teeth.
Jacques rolled away from her immediately in shame. What in the hell had gotten into him? He wasn’t the type to maul women. He wasn’t raised that way.
Angel got up from the floor with her back to him and walked over to one of the large windows framing Las Vegas like a picture. Her body was alluring, but what caught his attention was the circular sunburst pattern at the base of her spine. He’d seen it before on his own mother. It was the mark of a female sovereign. The mate of a pod ruler, her markings were deep tan, just a bit darker than her skin. He longed to run his tongue along the mark. It would be the most sensitive spot on her body. A spot guaranteed to arouse her. Jacques’s hand went to the prominent bulge in his pants and he shifted himself. He watched her with hooded eyes, aroused even in this chaos. Her waist was narrow, leading into wide hips, a nicely rounded ass, and well-shaped thighs and calves. The grunt he’d been trying to keep at bay broke free of his suppression. She jumped a bit but didn’t turn around.
Her hands were shaky as she jerked a curtain panel from the rod. The clasps gave way and the silky, gold-colored curtain panel slid to the floor. Angel quickly wrapped the panel around her body before turning to face him.
Her eyes went immediately to Michael. She began to move toward him.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”
“Why not? He might be hurt.”
“He’s fine.” Jacques walked closer to her, but she held up her hands to stop him.
