20 Shades of Shifters: A Paranormal Romance Collection

by Demelza Carlton

  He was dressed as casually as she. His jeans were molded to his legs—tight around thick thighs and narrow hips. An open, lightweight navy jacket rippled with the breeze, doing little to stop the air from lifting it away from his torso. Under the jacket he wore a collared Polo-style shirt, unbuttoned, in royal blue. At the open neck a tiny swatch of thick dark body hair peeked through, hinting at a larger, rougher patch below. Helen licked suddenly dry lips.

  “Hey,” he called out to her, still some distance away.

  She waved and turned back to look again at the site, noting the highway in the background that would provide access. The seniors’ village would be to the left, giving some of the new residents a nice view of the river.

  Pretending indifference to David’s approach was difficult when she could hear his sneakers against the dead grass and dirt groundcover. The swish of his cotton jeans rubbing together at his upper thigh. Her body hummed as it raced to interpret the signals of the approaching male. If I concentrated, would I hear his heartbeat? Better not try.

  “Well, you beat me here. What do you think?” David’s voice carried to her as he paced the last few steps to reach her side.

  “I think this it’s going to work. Better than that, it’s going to work well, both for the people who use the facilities, and for Multoma. Since you already own part of the land, it’s going to work well for you too.” She turned to look at him and saw the excitement in his eyes. “This is your biggest development yet, isn’t it?”

  “Yup.” He grinned. “Not as big as your last creation, but I’m proud of it.”

  She felt her lips thin and tried to prevent a frown from appearing on her face. Her last big project had had a few too many complications. Certainly one that was beyond unexpected; it was ruining her life.

  “Have you made sure there are no claims to the land? Even from people who don’t own it, but perhaps just use it? Have you checked the history of the land?” she pressed. “No animal rights people, no Native Americans who hold meetings here, no summer fairs or anything?”

  He cocked his head to one side, obviously puzzled. The question of who might use the land other than owners wasn’t usually addressed, particularly this sort of vacant land to the side of the city proper.

  “Why? Have you heard something? Is there going to be a problem because it’s a wetland? It hasn’t been a swamp for long; I don’t think we’ll see any conservationists here. It’s just scrub. That’s what makes it so perfect for the project.” He rubbed one had over his jaw line.

  “I want a complete report on usage before Multoma offers any contract. I had some problems with the Detroit plan that I don’t want repeated.” She crossed her arms.

  He stared at her, his eyes seeming to try to penetrate the protection of her dark glasses.

  “What problem did you have exactly? I never heard about anything.”

  She licked her lips. How much could she say? “We had a group of itinerates who used a small parcel of the land complain that we’d broached their rights as squatters. They claimed a history of use of the land as a group, much like a Native American claim to sacred land.”

  “Obviously it didn’t hold up in court. How did you keep it so quiet?”

  “It never made it to court, the claim was dismissed. The group chose not to take it to the papers, and we sure weren’t about to. So, I want this land checked. I don’t want any more groups mad at me, or rather at Multoma. I don’t want anyone out there ready to throw curses or try to ruin our reputation.” She turned from him, her shoulders stiffening under what she was sure was the pressure of his eyes on her back. That shouldn’t have slipped out that way. Now he was going to be curious.

  Curses? What the hell was that supposed to mean? David stared at her rigid body. He was used to dealing with some unusual requests for assurances on development deals, particularly when any legal entanglements might be involved, but her reaction was a bit extreme. Just what had happened in Detroit?

  He watched her for a moment more, but she didn’t move. She seemed to be waiting for him to say something. His eyes lingered on her long black hair. Draped in a braid down her back, it pointed like an arrow to the soft curves of her buttocks visible under the edge of her jacket.

  Finally it came to him, a small detail. He’d heard a bit of a water cooler joke about the woman in front of him. At the last Multoma bash, Helen Mathews had not only been cheered as a shark by her own president, she’d been screamed at by some old woman who had crashed through security. Some party.

  “That crazy woman at your party…” he began.

  She whipped around, her face aflame. “So you heard about that?” She leaned forward aggressively, unfolding her arms and fisting her hands. Her jaw thrust toward him. Her face, from under the dark shades, wore a grimace of anger. “Heard about the Gypsy curse? Heard I was shaking in my boots after some nut called me names? Well, that has nothing to do with this. Nothing to do with the way I do business. I just don’t want to have any more possible legal problems pop up unexpectedly on one of my projects.” “Whoa, hold it.” He raised his hands between them. “I didn’t hear anything, just that there had been some nut at the party. Was she part of the group that threatened the Detroit deal?”

  “They didn’t threaten anything. The deal went through just fine. The Rom wanted to keep their meeting space, but it was put to a better use. That hospital serves thousands. I got the job done.”

  He reached out to touch her, to break the mood. She stepped back before his hand could reach her wool jacket.

  “Let’s go. The site will be fine. As soon as you bring the usage report, we’ll amend the contract as we discussed last night and present it to you. After you approve, we’ll send it to the inspectors and have an environmental report run. We don’t need to be here any longer. Besides, that dead rat is really beginning to stink.”

  She stalked off, her back ramrod straight. David blinked after her. She was a bundle of nerves. What the hell had that been all about? Gypsies? He looked around and took a deep breath. The air was fresh and cool, the late spring air untainted. What dead rat? He needed Multoma, but did he need a crazy woman for a partner?

  He paced after her, reaching his Jeep moments after she slammed the door shut on her SUV. They were supposed to go for lunch after visiting the site, but really hadn’t discussed where. If he didn’t say something to her right now, he knew she’d take it as an excuse to bow out of any further time alone with him. If they were going to work together he had to know whatever the hell was going on with her wouldn’t affect the job. He turned back to her vehicle and walked to the driver’s door. As he approached he caught her image in the side view mirror. She had her shades off and was rubbing her eyes.

  There was nothing worse than a woman with tears in her eyes.

  A quick knock on the window brought those odd golden eyes up to meet his. They were molten gold, the hot color of liquid metal. Hot enough to heat his blood even through the glass. She rolled the window down and raised her eyebrows.

  “How about we go to an early lunch at the Apple Barrel? I love their pie.” He tried for his most charming smile and watched her gloomy expression become even grimmer.

  “I’m not getting personally involved with you, Mr. Sherman. Last night I may have given you the wrong impression. I don’t mix business with pleasure. And it’s too early for lunch.”

  Her rejection was strong and dismissive, her voice cold. If it weren’t for the misery in her eyes and the understanding that she was hiding something, something to do with her earlier reaction to his mention of the crazy woman at the Multoma party, he would have stopped right there. Instead, his interest was piqued further. So much for removing the air of mystery about her this morning and getting back to business. Ms. Matthews was simply more challenging than he had thought.

  “I have another development I’m considering, a mountain resort. I’d like to discuss some prelims with you, as a separate arrangement with Multoma. We could do that over pie. A
nd we’ll call it brunch, not lunch.” He smiled again, although part of him seriously objected about sharing information on another project when they hadn’t even signed the contract for the first one.

  Her mouth worked and she bit her lip. Was the decision really so hard? She must really have something to hide from him. But she looked so close to the edge… He tried again. “It’s a spa-slash-retreat. Something really decadent. Something just for pleasure.”

  “Something I’m sure you know all about,” she murmured. She bit her lip again, an unconscious gesture that heated him to the bone, the flash of her sharp white teeth against her blood red lips.

  “Business is pleasure. Do you really want to give up the satisfaction we could bring each other?”

  Chapter 4

  She was definitely a weak woman. Brunch together such a bad idea. But she let herself be convinced on the pretext of the business to come today. Really, it was for the chance to feel normal for a few minutes. He didn’t know everything about her. Not that her few friends or associates had more than a clue or two as to the problem she faced, but he hadn’t met her before the change and wouldn’t be able to see how different she’d become.

  For one thing, she ate a lot more. Brunch was such an easy meal to tuck into: bacon and pancakes and muffins, sausages, croissants, and omelets. She tried to make it less obvious and loaded the plate with protein which called to her more anyway, but he didn’t seem to notice. He ate his own meal with gusto, unconcerned as men always seemed to be about eating in public. And he was going to eat apple pie after this? He had to be joking.

  She took a sip of coffee and nearly spit it out. When had coffee become so disgusting? Just another change that the Rom had cursed her with. She clenched her fists under the table and put her cup down quickly before she cracked it.

  “Problem?” David had put down his fork after cleaning his plate. How long had he been finished? Had he seen her reaction to coffee? Did she have to worry about every change in her expression and every single thing she did from now on?

  Maybe coming here had been a worse mistake than she’d thought.

  “No, just bad coffee. I’m thinking of giving it up anyway.”

  He picked up his coffee cup and took a sip. “Tastes good to me.”

  He seemed to be watching her pretty carefully. Who could blame him? Who would want to go into business with someone like her now? He probably thought she was crazy, the way she was acting.

  “Let’s talk about the mountain resort.” He leaned back in his chair, clearly relaxed when she was anything but. What was his game?

  “Okay, tell me what you have in mind.”

  She listened while he talked. He was definitely smart, intelligent enough to create a plan that would probably make them a lot of money. Just like the one they were about to embark on together. If she made it that far. How long could she keep up the charade? She was already feeling the pressure of her absences from work and the change was growing worse.

  The change. How else could she think of it but as the change? There was her life before the Rom, and her life after. Her changed life.

  Every month it got worse. First her eyes, then her reaction to silver, the heightened senses, and now her impossible-to-fight attraction to a man who was basically a stranger. What would happen next? And of course none of this compared to what caused her monthly absences from work. That change was something she wouldn’t bring herself to think about.

  David pulled out a set of documents from his briefcase. The papers detailing his ideas on the mountain resort were very preliminary. It was something much more like a retreat, far from everything and high on a mountain that his family had owned a large portion of for generations. On the very far edge of the state, the low mountain seemed like a haven. A place far from the world. She’d have to start thinking about how far away she’d need to go this month. Where she could go. Her last hideaway was unavailable now, preparing for the summer season and filled with caretakers. Soon there would be campers both young and old; the Lakeside Campground was the last place she could hide.

  “Is there a direct road to the proposed development?”

  David seemed surprised at her interjection. “Yes, but not much of one. There’s an old logging road that we sometimes use. Last time I was up there was with some surveyors to review the borders. That was eight months ago.”

  “So your family doesn’t use this property at all anymore?”

  “No, although there is an old hunting cabin my dad used to use. He passed away a few years ago.”

  “I’m sorry. It’s pretty far from any major city or airport.” She considered the ramifications of that. Possibly good for her, probably bad for any development.

  “That’s the point. It’s pristine. People will go so they can experience wildlife and a natural setting but with every comfort a spa can provide.” He grinned.

  “Wildlife? What kind of wildlife?” She toyed with her fork. Maybe that far away was too far away, two wild.

  “The usual—deer, rabbits, coyotes, bears, maybe wolves.” He was looking at her strangely. It wasn’t that unusual question, who wouldn’t be concerned or interested with the wildlife? The idea of deer and rabbits sounded interesting…

  “Helen… Your eyes…”

  She clenched the fork in her hand hard and stared at him. What was wrong with her eyes now?

  “Your eyes are glowing.”

  She dropped the fork stood and gathered her purse. “Yes, the sun is right in my eyes. And I really need to get going. It’s been lovely, thank you. When you have a more formal report I’d like to hear about this resort again. And of course I’ll be waiting for the usage report on the initial development. Perhaps we can meet next week.”

  She was gone again and this time he didn’t stop her. Maybe that was a good thing. What had he just seen? A trick of the light? He gathered his papers from the table. She seemed interested in his new idea. Hell, who wouldn’t be? It was a good one. Taking her to brunch had been a good idea, hadn’t it? She’d certainly been hungry, putting away a huge plate of the brunch buffet. He enjoyed a woman who ate when they were hungry, rather than picking away at some salad because they thought they had to look concerned with their weight at all times. But then, her eyes... No way that was the sun in her eyes, was it? They were beside the window, but...

  He picked up the last paper and glanced at her place setting. Slowly, he reached over and picked up her fork. He sat back in his chair stared at the utensil. After a moment he glanced around and carefully put it in his pocket. Unlike the other utensils at their table, it was noticeably twisted and now bore the distinct imprints of fingers.

  Would this day never end? Helen signed off on yet another report. The pile had been steadily growing for the last nine hours she’d been in the office. Catching up was going to kill her. The words were blurring together, although she felt good about her progress. Maybe it was simply time to quit and go home.

  But what was waiting for her there? Nothing. How had she never noticed how empty her apartment felt? She had no family and only the memories of her father driving her to succeed at work. What did that even matter now? Why had she thought beating his expectations mattered years after he died? Her problems were a hell of a lot worse than that now. Once, her father had pushed her because she wasn’t the son he’d wanted. He’d never been satisfied. But because her mother had died when she was only a child, he’d been all she had. And pleasing him had become more than a challenge, it had become an obsession.

  Now her problems were somewhere in the vicinity of the moon, if you put the difference between expectations from an overbearing parent on one end of a scale and measured the distance to her current issue: her body changing with the coming of the moon. She wasn’t even human anymore, so what did it matter that she wasn’t a man, wasn’t a son to a man who was dead and gone?

  She signed off on her computer and stretched in her chair. There were no friends to worry about either, not really. Work associates
didn’t count. She had no time for friends. What could they bring her when her only goal was to climb the corporate ladder higher and higher? She stood and walked to the door and slapped the light off as she walked through the threshold. The office was deserted. She had sent Sherry and Taryn home long ago. Sherry had a family and Taryn…well, the woman had more boyfriends than you could count. It was probably date night.

  It was something Helen could almost envy her for. Almost, because the men never seemed to stay very long. Taryn’s choice, apparently. Helen would prefer something, someone, who stuck around. Someone she could count on. She walked to the elevator and pressed the button. There were a few lights on in some of the junior offices. Keeners working hard to get ahead, just like she had. Her last boyfriend, if she could call him that, had been just like them—just like her. She couldn’t say when she’d spoken to him last. Apparently it hadn’t mattered that much to either of them.

  Good God, she was pathetic. Thinking about all this when she only had two weeks left before she’d have to run again. What would a boyfriend matter then? No one could help her. When she had first understood what the Rom had done to her, she’d been furious. She still was. She didn’t deserve it. All she’d done was her job.

  They had made her into something out of a horror story. Some days, it seemed like she’d lost her mind, that stress had taken its toll and she’d gone off the deep end. Had she ever in her life believed that magic was real? That the moon could change her reality into something completely other? That she’d look at the glowing ball hanging in the night sky and howl…and like it?