20 Shades of Shifters: A Paranormal Romance Collection

by Demelza Carlton

  Sounds of approaching security personnel could be heard, and the woman glared hard at Helen and stroked a long, golden chain hanging about her neck. Her voice became more heavily accented, her phrasing more formal. “I curse you now, Helen Mathews. I curse you in the way of my people. I curse you three times as one who devours, as one who bares her fangs against those who would keep their own, and as the predator you truly are.”

  With a flick of her wrist the Rom woman reached into some hidden pocket within her skirts and pulled out a small bottle. In a fluid motion she flung it toward Helen. Helen stepped back but the tiny flask smashed against the table in front of her, splashing its contents out and upward, spattering Helen from head to toe.

  By now, the old woman was shouting, racing to finish the words she now spoke in a foreign tongue before the guards dragged the uninvited accusers from the room. Helen stood frozen, caught in the spell of the Rom curse. She suppressed the urge to shiver, her blood running cold. She brushed her fingers over the flecks of liquid on her cheek. Everyone near her stared in hushed shock, even Mr. Winfield, a man she’d never seen off-pace. She looked down at her hand and realized she was covered in blood.

  Chapter 1

  Well, where the hell is she?” David Sherman’s voice carried his annoyance clearly to the receptionist on the other end of the telephone. “I’ve been trying to reach Ms. Mathews all week. Does she not want to close this deal? There are at least two other companies I could go to with this. Understand?”

  “I’m sorry, Mr. Sherman. Ms. Mathews will be returning to the office tomorrow. I’m sure she’ll contact you right away.”

  “She’d better. We can’t sit on this for much longer.”

  David hung up the phone and raised a hand to his aching head. What had he been thinking of, convincing himself that this woman was the only one for the job? That she was the only one who could make or break this deal? She’d been vague in her replies to his calls early last week, although she’d confirmed that the deal was one Multoma would be interested in. Then she’d simply disappeared. For God’s sake, they hadn’t even met yet.

  Her secretary couldn’t even say where she was. Couldn’t or wouldn’t. David tensed as the thought occurred to him again that perhaps she had taken the idea he’d brought to the table and offered it to another firm. She was, after all, reputed to be absolutely ruthless. Since her apparent desertion after their last discussion, her absence was all he could think about.

  David leaned back into his black leather chair, reclining as he considered the very real possibility of a double-cross. He had put together a tasty package of land just waiting for a big enough developer, and a plan to create a new retail and office center in Philadelphia. Would she steal that idea? He ran frustrated fingers though his hair.

  She might. It was time to meet the woman in person. Time to get a better feel for her ethics. It was well known that she was strong, smart, and one of the best negotiators in the trade. She’d won concessions for developments from both the government and the public that no one had thought possible. It was because of her that several unused and derelict sections of land, reclaimed from what used to be one of Detroit’s largest dumps, were now being developed successfully into a huge science center and hospital. She’d been recognized by her company and made a senior partner, a feat practically unheard of for young a woman in this field.

  David leaned forward and pressed the intercom button to summon his secretary. He looked around his spacious office. He was no small-time operator; he could take on this Helen Mathews. If she thought she could get away with stealing the biggest development he’d ever cultivated, she could think again. His corner office with a view in the largest office building in Philadelphia was proof of that.

  Sally, a small but attractive young woman, entered the room quietly. For a moment David admired the cute blonde. She was just his type: blonde, curvy, and willing. And yet, there just wasn’t any pull, any excitement, any challenge. Beyond that, he would simply never get involved with someone he worked with. He had more than enough proof that that path led to certain disaster.

  “Can I help you, Mr. Sherman?” She paused in front of his desk, and leaned just a tad too far over, David noted. Although he certainly took a moment to admire the proffered view of her breasts, he was familiar with the pose. Women considered him handsome, but it was the power and money he controlled that seemed to be the deciding factor in their interest. Women loved power. It would be nice, if for once someone wanted him, not just the money and prestige that came with his lifestyle.

  “I need travel arrangements to New York, Sally.” David drew her attention back to work. Once, the kind of challenge she was silently offering would have aroused him, co-worker or not. He had to face it—he wasn’t interested, and it wasn’t because she worked for him. She was so much the same as the last three women he’d had affairs with, he couldn’t bring himself to start the cycle again.

  She straightened immediately and smoothed her skirt with ill-concealed irritation. He ignored it, but what else could he do but pretend her silent offer had never happened?

  “I want the next flight available. Book me first class and make reservations for dinner at Ruby Foo’s, in a private dining room. I’ll be bringing a business prospect, so be sure we get it, no matter what we have to shell out. I’ll stay at my apartment, so you know where to contact me.”

  David rattled off several more instructions and left a list of reports he wanted generated and sent to him in New York. Within a few moments he was on his way out the door. It only occurred to him then that he hadn’t soothed Sally’s bruised ego. A quick cell call and an offer of the day off while he was gone was all it took. He could only hope that it would go as well with Helen Mathews.

  Helen collapsed with exhaustion into her office chair. Any brief time away from her desk meant a huge pile of catch-up work, no matter how necessary the absence. Nearly a week off for the third time in as many months had left her with an avalanche of paperwork and her secretary and receptionist both looked at her as if she’d abandoned them. She simply could not explain to them why she’d left or where she’d gone.

  Only their longtime loyalty kept them from asking too many questions. The two women had risen with her through the ranks of Multoma Developments and knew they owed her for the opportunities they had been given. Not one word had been said, at least not by them, not even when she knew they noticed a change in her appearance as well as habits.

  Helen dug through the pile of papers left on her ‘in’ tray and sifted out the most important of the reports she’d requested before she left. How much longer could she keep this up? Surely, it wouldn’t be long before someone higher up noted her absences. She pulled out the numbers on David Sherman’s proposal. She’d only had time to skim it before she’d left last week. It was an excellent plan, one that combined land once considered unusable and therefore cheap, and an innovative architectural concept for engineering office space over what was basically a swamp.

  She’d pulled all the information Multoma had on Sherman’s past operations and on the man himself, and had taken it away with her. There were times when she could bring herself to read during her absence, although numbers were a near impossibility. Something about the way she processed information around the time of the full moon was very different. There was a lot to review. He’d been a busy man over the last couple of years, and she discovered his ideas had proved quite interesting and profitable for Multoma before, although her team had never worked with him.

  As for the man, she’d Googled him. She’d found more than she expected. According to the press, he’d never been married, had worked at the same firm until he became full partner, and was a serious contributor to various charities, including wildlife preservation. And yet, he was a hunter, well proven in his skill against wild game. He owned several apartments and condos across the country.

  It was too bad she’d angered him by not contacting him last week. Her receptionist told her how i
rritated he’d been on the phone when he’d found out she’d left suddenly, but she could hardly have done otherwise. That thought brought her full circle.

  She pulled off a pair of dark glasses to rub tired eyes. The shades were a near permanent accessory now. She lay her head down on her desk, ready in that moment to weep. It was becoming too hard. Three times now she’d had to flee her office for an extended length of time. Three times she’d lied about it to coworkers and friends alike. One more time and she would likely be facing serious questions from her superiors about her ability to keep up her workload. Her father would be right, and she would fail. She was so tired.

  Behind her eyelids she watched again the events of that horrible night replay like a tired movie. She couldn’t escape the memory any more than she could escape the reality of her life since that moment. Once a month she changed, and became no one her father would have recognized. She became an animal. Helen’s intercom chose that moment to buzz sharply, pulling her back to the present. A second after she jerked upright, the door opened.

  “I’m sorry, Helen…” Sherry Davis, Helen’s receptionist, spoke quickly from the hall, “but Mr. Sherman is here and insists on seeing you immediately.” The middle-aged woman looked angrily over the top of her glasses at the man who pushed his way past her and through the door.

  Helen stood to greet her uninvited guest. Her first impression of David Sherman tempted her to frown, although she held on to her pleasant expression as she’d trained herself to do. He was determined, and obviously irritated by her absence and her receptionist’s protective attitude. Broad shouldered and thick through the chest, he towered over Sherry. Slightly too long, light brown hair flipped arrogantly over his brow, and a long nose and smooth, strong jaw finished the frame of his face. Only his hazel eyes stood out as exceptionally beautiful; they brought his features together into a very pleasing form.

  Before Helen could quite associate this handsome man with the phone calls she’d received a week ago, he was in her office and having his own good look at her. She flushed slightly as his eyes roved, but schooled her face into a pleasant mask. She was used to being inspected. It was all part of the business she had spent the last five years conquering.

  She dressed the part of corporate executive-slash-warrior. Her tailored fuchsia suit fit her perfectly, and its bright color enhanced her pale skin and long black hair. She knew she looked tired, but as he stared at her longer and longer, she couldn’t hold his gaze. What was he looking at? Did he see beyond her façade?

  “Ms. Mathews, I’m David Sherman. I’m glad to finally meet you.” He extended his hand. His large, tanned fingers enclosed hers and she felt a tingle of attraction. She smiled at him, but sternly reminded herself of the many, many reasons she could not possibly become involved with anyone just now.

  “Welcome, Mr. Sherman. I must apologize for not getting back to you sooner. I’ve been away on a business trip, as I’m sure my assistant informed you. I did, however, review the preliminary figures of your proposal.”

  Helen offered a chair with a wave of her hand as she lied though her teeth. She took her own seat, plunging into the details of the proposal. Without giving him an opportunity to comment on her absence, she lifted the page she thought indicated profit estimates from her desk, grateful that she’d at least had the time to pull the report from the pile of work on her desk and skim it before he arrived.

  David reached for the paper, tugging it gently from her fingers. “Great percentages, don’t you think? The lead indicators are well over the norm, and the market polls more than prove the need for these facilities in this location. It’s hard to believe no one has acquired the land as yet.” He smiled, looking pleased. His smile transformed his face from arrogant businessman to a ruggedly handsome man, and again she felt that zing of attraction.

  “Yes, the numbers look interesting,” Helen hedged. She had no idea what the percentages actually were, other than good.

  “I’m glad to see you aren’t letting a great deal slip away from Multoma. I was beginning to wonder if you were planning on passing it over to another firm.” He looked at her calmly, apparently ignoring the fact that he was practically accusing her of stealing his pitch and perhaps even going behind the back of her own company. After a tense moment, his eyes shied to the left in a self-conscious movement.

  “I see. Multoma does not operate that way, Mr. Sherman. Nor do I,” she stated calmly. “My time is better spent as a negotiator than a thief.” She kept her face composed, but her stomach clenched. So much for attraction. This was only the first of the problems and accusations she’d likely face by having a forced monthly absence from the company. At least the man before her had the grace to eventually look embarrassed by his suggestion. There were many who wouldn’t care that they were being offensive, not when it came to business.

  “Well, you can hardly blame me for my suspicions. Not after you seemed to disappear. Let me take you out to dinner tonight to make up for it.” His attitude changed perceptibly. He was apparently going to accept her at her word. “We can discuss the proposal then, and you can have today to catch up on all the paperwork that built up while you were away.”

  He stood, and handed back the paper. “This page, by the way, doesn’t have any percentage numbers on it.” He smirked, just a bit, and lifted an eyebrow. The scent of his cologne—woody and male—reached her and the attraction returned, sharper now. “Perhaps you could read the report before tonight. I’ll send you my car.” He didn’t wait for her answer, pressing the advantage of having caught her unprepared for his visit.

  “That would be fine,” she said as he walked out the door. “Just fine.” She slumped back into her chair and held her head in her hands. “Shit. Cocky asshole. Sexy, cocky asshole.”

  Chapter 2

  David walked out of the office and into the elevator without losing his grin. He’d caught Helen Mathews at a disadvantage. Hard to say what her reason for being away really was, but it didn’t seem to have anything to do with stealing his ideas, nor, he reflected, with business in general. That thought made him frown. Why had she endangered her career over the last three months? She was on the rise, but disappearing three times without a trace would put her accounts in jeopardy and make her a target for those who would want her position. He had to admit he hoped she hadn’t run off to meet with some man. She presented a challenge he’d never met before—a powerful woman with a mystery, secrets that didn’t seem as simple as an affair.

  He hadn’t expected her to be so sexy. He’d heard she was beautiful, but to be brutally honest, there weren’t too many unattractive women who made it this far up the corporate ladder. In fact, not too many women made it this far at all. But Helen Mathews was enough to make a man drool. She wasn’t his normal type. He’d always preferred curvaceous little blondes. She was just about as opposite to his usual quarry as you could get: tall, with long, slender limbs and curves that were sweet, if trim. Her long black hair would look fantastic against his green satin pillowcases.

  Now that was going too far. Provided she took up his business proposal, Helen Mathews would be a partner, if not his boss. She’d want control, of both the business and the personal side of things, he was sure. Just because she’d been caught off guard today, didn’t mean she wasn’t the steely-eyed witch he’d heard about.

  Her eyes though…they were incredible. Had he ever seen eyes that color, so golden? They weren’t contact lenses—he’d looked when he’d leaned over her desk to take the page of the report she hadn’t read. They were huge, and stunning, the way they reflected warmth like it was a color of its own. They hid something though, and if he and she were going to be in business together, he’d have to find out what.

  A bright red canopy capped the Ruby Foo’s entrance. Although a good-sized line-up of people stood before the red and black lacquered doors waiting to get in, David ushered Helen past them and inside to the headwaiter’s desk. They were motioned immediately to follow the Maitre D’. H
elen had only a moment to take in the main dining area, but what she saw spiked her interest.

  Red and gold colors dominated the room. Candles burning in black lacquered holders on each table accented the tablecloths and the Japanese symbols painted on them. Scarlet banners hung from the painted ceiling, and delicate watercolor and ink paintings graced every wall. The dark color of mahogany showed here and there on the leg of a table or chair.

  She took a deep breath to absorb the enticing aromas that teased her senses. Hot and heady spices mingled with the cool scent of seafood. As they proceeded deeper into the restaurant, they passed a huge sushi bar. Two chefs stood before an open glass panel making seaweed rolls of fresh fish and rice. A constant hum of conversation, clinking utensils and subtle music rumbled in her ears. The room was packed with people—Ruby Foo’s was a very trendy place to be. If David Sherman was trying to impress her with a private room here, he had achieved his goal.

  She glanced around the room, movement drawing her attention in one direction after another. The noise began to ring in her ears. This was the first time in months she’d entered such a huge public place, and the atmosphere threatened to overwhelm her. She shifted closer to David, nearly stepping on the heels of the Maitre D’.

  When they reached the end of the main dining room, the Maitre D’ waved David and Helen in before him through a heavy looking, mahogany colored door. Inside was a tiny private dining room. The small room did not disappoint. It was decorated as generously in Japanese art as the main room, and the relief it provided Helen from the overpowering clashes of sensations of the larger space was more than welcome. She released a breath that she hadn’t noticed she’d been holding. She smiled quickly as David caught her eye.