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  “It’s... possible,” Conall conceded, though he didn’t sound convinced. “But Jenny came from a family of shifters, and most people don’t.”

  He put down the brush. “I’m going to try to braid your hair,” he said, with the air of someone going into battle. “It probably won’t be as good as Lydia’s braid.”

  Gizelle braced herself.

  He was very careful and gentle, and at the end of his ministrations, Gizelle had not one, but two swinging braids. “It was too much hair for one,” he said apologetically. “At least at my skill level.”

  “I love it,” Gizelle assured him, letting the braids swirl around as she moved her head. “Will you do it often?”

  “As often as you like,” Conall promised. “Every day, if you want.”

  Gizelle considered. “I liked having you brush my hair,” she conceded. “But I don’t know if I liked it that much.”

  “I understand that it’s easier if you do this every day,” Conall told her encouragingly.

  “If you think I should,” Gizelle agreed reluctantly.

  Conall tugged on one of her braids playfully. “I think you should do what you want to do,” he said easily.

  Gizelle smiled then. “I know what I want to do,” she said earnestly. “Every day...”

  Chapter 40

  Conall was confused when Travis waved him over to where the staff was sitting near the bar after dinner.

  He was more confused when they didn’t appear to have anything to actively discuss with him. He was offered a seat, and then largely ignored as they continued to chat among themselves, though they politely turned towards him to include him in the conversation.

  “It’s no real wonder that they’d want me,” Breck was saying confidently. “But I’ve got to question the salary they offered. Before tips, which, no question, I’d be bringing in.”

  “We’ve been getting offers that are too good to be true,” Bastian explained for Conall’s benefit. “A resort in California has lifeguard positions for both me and Saina, with room and board and wages to tempt even a dragon.”

  “One of those trendy places in New York sent me a letter,” Breck added.

  “I got a letter from a construction company back home in Alaska. They offered me a management position,” Travis said.

  Tex put a gin and tonic down in front of Conall and another beer for Wrench. Pointedly facing Conall to include him, he said, “I got a letter offering to front me the money for my own bar in Bermuda. An established place with a great bottom line in a sleepy tourist town. Everything I would have wanted before coming here.”

  Wrench shrugged. “Nobody’s makin’ me any offers.”

  The others all laughed good-naturedly and Conall found himself smiling bemusedly.

  “Are you going to take these offers?” he asked.

  “Not me,” Travis said. “I have no interest in management. I like a job where I can use my hands, and I’m too spoiled by this island to go back to Alaska.”

  “Saina and I talked about it, but we’re pretty happy with our lot here,” Bastian said. “And I’d hate to have to move my hoard again.”

  “I don’t think the restaurant in New York is clothing optional,” Breck added with a grin. “So what fun would that be?”

  “Besides, I wouldn’t want to leave Scarlet in a bind,” Travis added. “Maybe the pay here isn’t the greatest, but I’ve never had a better job.”

  Everyone nodded at that.

  “I’ve got my own bar here, basically,” Tex agreed. “And I don’t have to worry about balancing the books or paying off a debt.”

  “Kind of weird we got these, don’t you think?” Travis mused. “All at once like this?”

  “Sounds like a hostile takeover,” Conall suggested.

  They all looked at him curiously and he frowned at their attention. “It’s a standard business tactic,” he said stiffly. “Poach the best players away from the competition.”

  “What competition?” Breck asked curiously. “Scarlet’s got a kind of a narrow niche here.”

  “And our offers were from all over the place,” Travis added. “Not just one rival resort.”

  “Beehag has been trying to sell the island, and Scarlet’s been giving him nothing but trouble over that,” Tex suggested thoughtfully. “Maybe he’s trying to whittle away at the resort to get her out of here?”

  “Beehag isn’t smart enough to come up with something like that,” Breck scoffed.

  Travis looked concerned. “Jenny says his lawyer is a smart cookie. Maybe it was his idea.”

  They all sat around musing that idea for a moment, and Breck finally asked Conall bluntly, “So can you hear now or what?”

  Conall laughed humorlessly, thinking about how oddly he must be coming across—deaf but not always. “I can only hear when I’m touching Gizelle. And it’s not really hearing... it’s... hearing through her ears. Sort of.”

  Slow, puzzled nods answered him, and he felt compelled to add. “It’s honestly not all that comfortable. I thought it was just that I’d forgotten what hearing was like, but she’s got a lot more input than most people. It’s really rather overwhelming, with so many voices. She can hear the voices of our animals. All of them at once.”

  The silence that met that was clearly each of them consulting with their own inner animals and meeting astonishment.

  “It’s almost all just whispers, like trying to listen to a hundred radios turned down really low that are just slightly out of tune, all at once,” Conall was quick to explain. “It’s not like either of us could eavesdrop even if we tried; I’ve been able to pick out just a few words at all. She says it’s clearer if she makes skin contact, but she doesn’t like to do that.”

  “Sweet daisies,” said Tex. “No wonder she doesn’t like touching people.”

  “Remarkable,” Bastian said.

  “I’m not sure I want Gizelle hearing my leopard,” Breck said, amused. “He has some very dirty thoughts.”

  “Dirtier than yours?” Travis needled him.

  “You’d be surprised,” Breck said with a grin and a wink.

  Chapter 41

  “I’m getting in the shower before lunch,” Conall called from the bedroom. He had just returned from using the noisy machines in the little fitness center near the pool. “Want to join me?”

  Gizelle was perched on the deck railing, looking out over the tiny lawn. She hadn’t put her dress on yet, but that didn’t matter if she wasn’t wandering about where the guests were. “I’m afraid of showers,” she called back. Then she remembered that Conall wouldn’t be able to hear her, so she hopped off the railing to tell him.

  He already had the water running, and it was just starting to steam.

  Gizelle crept into the bathroom with her hands over her ears, but when she went to repeat herself where Conall would be able to see her, she stopped and simply watched him.

  She had seen him without clothing several times, though not as many times as the other way around.

  But she had never seen him quite like this, not looking at her, unconsciously graceful and so incredibly sexy as he groomed himself.

  He was so marvelous, with his broad, muscled shoulders and his strong arms as he stood under the cascade of water in the open shower. Talented fingers poured shampoo into the opposite hand, then massaged it into his short hair, causing a cascade of bubbles that followed all the tantalizing planes and crannies of his splendid body.

  He turned then, and smiled, and if he had been dazzling before, it was nothing to what he was when he looked at her like she had just hung the stars in the sky.

  “I’m afraid of showers,” Gizelle repeated faintly, but when he put out a hand to her anyway, she tentatively uncovered her ears and followed him into the far end of the open shower, carefully skirting away from the falling water.

  The sprinkles from the stream felt cool as they evaporated slowly off her skin. It was noisy, but not as overwhelming as it always had been before.
r />   Nothing was as overwhelming as it had been before Conall, and when his hand remained out in invitation, she finally crept a few steps forward and took it.

  She braced herself for the worst as he pulled her gently into the stream, then gave a gasp of relief and delight.

  It was amazing.

  It was like having gentle hands all over her at once, warm and kind and inviting. If the water striking her head was noisier than she liked, it was worth it for the trickle of warm water running down her neck and shoulders.

  “This is marvelous!” she said in wonder. “I never knew!”

  Conall helped her unweave her braids, and she eagerly poured a handful of shampoo into her palm and put it to her head. It lathered into a frothy foam all over her hands and she was fascinated to watch it spilling down over her breasts. It whispered down her cheek and she tipped her head back to see if she could see it above her even as Conall warned, “Careful, don’t let it get into your—”

  Gizelle gave a cry of betrayed pain as her eyes suddenly burned. She backed up blindly.

  Conall’s arms were immediately around her, and he was angling her face into the water. “It will pass!” he promised desperately. “Let it rinse away! Blink!”

  Gizelle had to fight down her instinct to struggle and screw her eyes shut and went limp in his arms, crying pitifully and letting him rinse the soap from her miserable eyes.

  Slowly, the agony faded and Gizelle’s sobs and shaking slowed.

  “I’m so sorry,” Conall said. “You were brave to come in, and I’m so sorry that happened.”

  “It was awful,” Gizelle said, feeling wrung out. “How do you keep that from happening?”

  Conall showed her, tipping his back under the water so it all flowed back away from his face. “Or, you close your eyes,” he suggested.

  Gizelle gave a hiccup of a laugh and closed her eyes as Conall helped her rinse the last of the bubbles from her hair.

  “We can keep the soap below your chin,” Conall suggested, lathering a bar in his hands.

  When he began to soap her, Gizelle forgave him entirely for the unpleasant shampoo experience.

  Soap was slippery and Conall massaged it everywhere, and when she had been rinsed clean, he gave her the bar and let her loose on his own body.

  As she had been dying to do since she first saw him standing in the shower, Gizelle laid her hands on all the places that fascinated her. She stood on her toes to soap over his broad shoulders and explored each powerful arm. She scrubbed the muscles of his back and ran her hands over his tight ass cheeks, squeezing them for fun.

  Standing behind him, she reached around and soaped his cock, half hard from her attention already. She pressed her breasts into his back as she worked, and was rewarded by nearly making him choke.

  “Gizelle,” he moaned.

  “I think I want to try the Jacuzzi with the bubbles on,” she told him, rinsing all the remaining bubbles off with her careful fingers.

  She wasn’t entirely sure why he laughed, but she loved the sound of it.

  Chapter 42

  Conall was sitting on the deck alone when he felt footsteps that weren’t Gizelle’s. He looked around to see Scarlet walking from the French doors that opened into the living area. She was holding a folder of paperwork, and a clipboard with a yellow steno pad.

  “I apologize for walking in without an invitation,” she said. “But knocking...” She gave a helpless shrug.

  Conall stood. “That’s one of the things I wanted to talk about. I’d like to get a ringer installed that sets off the lights and vibrates. And maybe an additional light on the deck that is colored?”

  Scarlet made a series of swift notes. “That’s certainly reasonable,” she said with a nod. “I would consider that a covered modification.”

  “I also want to talk about putting a fridge in,” Conall said, walking into the living area with her. “Perhaps make a kitchenette here.”

  Scarlet looked more reluctant about that. “We have certain power considerations here,” she cautioned. “Our generators are not that robust, and we’re still expanding our solar options.”

  “A dorm-sized fridge?” Conall countered. “I’m not thinking of full meals, just snacks for days that Gizelle doesn’t feel up to the restaurant, and a coffee maker.”

  Scarlet took more notes. “That’s also reasonable. I would expect you to maintain sterile conditions. Sugary items in particular must be safely stowed. We haven’t talked about housekeeping.”

  “Daily is unnecessary,” Conall assured her. “Perhaps twice weekly for the linens and floors and supply us with a few basic cleaning supplies.”

  Scarlet nodded. “I can have a broom and dustpan brought by.” She frowned at one of the potted plants that looked less robust than the others and made another note.

  “I’d like to remove the glass-topped coffee table,” Conall said. “Maybe replace it with something... sturdier.”

  “That’s wise,” Scarlet said, with just the hint of a smile.

  “The second bedroom isn’t really necessary,” Conall said, as their navigation arrived at the door to it. “I would like to reserve the right to remodel it into an office in the future. I’ll have a better idea of what I want to do with it once I’m back in January.”

  “At your expense, naturally,” Scarlet specified.

  “Naturally,” Conall agreed.

  “Agreed.”

  Their circuit of the house ended with the exterior. “I would appreciate a slightly larger lawn,” Conall said. “But I understand that’s problematic.”

  “I’m afraid we’re rather constrained in terms of space,” Scarlet said regretfully. “Presuming you do not wish to add the lease of one of the neighboring cottages to this bill.”

  “I do not,” Conall chuckled.

  They walked back inside.

  “I will change out the coffee table for another, and make the other cosmetic changes at no charge. The expense of the kitchenette will be billed to you. I will revise the estimate I shared with you earlier to reflect the reduced housekeeping.”

  “It covers meals for both Gizelle and myself,” Conall confirmed.

  Scarlet hesitated and Conall knew that she hadn’t included Gizelle’s meals. “I can’t charge her for grazing—” she started.

  “I insist,” Conall said firmly. “I also want a line item for the glassware we’ve managed to destroy between the two of us.”

  Scarlet smiled. “Very well.”

  “The pricing was honestly more reasonable than I expected,” Conall said frankly.

  Equally frank in reply, Scarlet confessed. “This is a challenging cottage to let; it’s a less desirable size and price group than most of the others, and it’s not right on the beach. I am also quoting this with the presumption that Gizelle’s cottage will be back in service.”

  “I’ve talked her into claiming this outdoor shower instead,” Conall said with a smile. “She’s already moved her hoard.”

  “She’s come so far,” Scarlet said warmly. “Just a month ago, I would never have left her alone in my office making Christmas presents.”

  “Presents?”

  “She’s drawing everyone’s animals for them; I’ve lent her some art supplies and good paper.

  “Have you spoiled the surprise?” Conall teased.

  Scarlet looked scandalized. “Of course not. She said she had something else for you, and I didn’t ask.” She said it as if she suspected the worst and didn’t want to know.

  Conall chuckled, and marveled at how natural it felt to laugh again. “Fair enough.”

  Scarlet almost smiled, then added thoughtfully. “You should know that she’s asked me to have some of my connections start investigating where she might have come from. She didn’t want to know, when we first offered to try to find out.”

  Conall stilled, remembering Gizelle’s fear that she was a monster. “That’s a big step.”

  “I don’t know how much we’ll be able to find out
,” Scarlet cautioned. “A lot of the information from Beehag’s case is classified.”

  “If it requires money...” Conall started.

  He wasn’t sure how to take her expression. Was she offended by the idea? Did she think he was implying a bribe?

  But she only said, briskly, “I will let you know. We can have the coffee table swapped out in the next day or so, and most of the other changes over the next week. The kitchenette may take a little longer, I’m afraid. I probably won’t be able to get the appliances here until just after Christmas.”

  “I’ll be leaving for Boston a few days after Christmas,” Conall said, already dreading the trip. “So if they could be installed...”

  He turned at an unexpected thump that vibrated up through the floor.

  Gizelle stood in the doorway, the box she had been holding at her feet and sheets of paper still falling around her.

  “You’re leaving?” she said in terror. “You’re leaving me?”

  “Gizelle, wait...”

  But Gizelle was already leaping back and shifting. Conall had one last view of her grief-stricken face before she was a gazelle, her tail twitching as she fled.

  When he turned back to Scarlet in dismay, the resort manager was frowning. “Yes, I think replacing the coffee table should be a priority.”

  Chapter 43

  Her world was grass and gravity.

  The rhythm of the nearby ocean was the only music she needed, the insects the only chorus.

  Her fears were distant, and her human quiet and safe.

  If she was lonely, it was a familiar loneliness, and she was free and fearless.

  She nibbled at the best of the blades, comfortable knowing that she could run in any direction if danger threatened. She was fast and fleet and the emptiness inside her must only be an empty belly.

  So she cropped at the lush foliage and was only a gazelle, in a weighted world of green and grass.