Tropical Panther's Penance (Shifting Sands Resort Book 6) Read online

  They accepted his desire to go straight without question or doubt. He wasn’t sure why, or why it mattered so much to him, but it did.

  “Hey, lady, er, ma’am.” Wrench tried not to hulk. “May I help you with your bag?”

  She looked up, and up, and up at him. “Goodness, aren’t you a… thing.” She didn’t seem particularly bothered by his thing-ness. “One of these wheels does have a habit of sticking,” she said, handing him the handle. “And gravel paths! I didn’t think I’d have to drag this down a gravel path.”

  Wrench followed her as she unfolded her brochure and pointed out her cottage on the little map. She had peeled off a sticker nametag that said ‘Dot’ and put it on the brochure. “I’m in cottage twenty-three,” she said, and then she led Wrench off at a fast trot.

  Wrench followed her dutifully, carrying the bag by its awkward long handle rather than even trying to roll it. It was surprisingly heavy.

  “Is it always so hot here?” Dot chirped curiously as she led the way, pausing only briefly at the signpost pointing directions. “Goodness, it is quite a lot hotter than the Midwest this time of year. Of course, my kids all think I can’t handle the cold anymore, so this is their early Christmas gift. I think they’re hoping I like it so much they can convince me to move to Florida. I’d as soon eat my socks as move to that alligator-infested swampland. You could be an alligator, son. What’s your shifter form?”

  Wrench cleared his throat. “Panther. Ma’am.”

  She sniffed. “Big cats. I’m a fox, thank you very much, and when I was younger I was quite the fox in either form.”

  Wrench caught what might have been a wink.

  “Yes, ma’am,” he decided was safe.

  “You got family?” the woman prodded.

  “Sister,” Wrench said briefly, surprised into admitting it. “Niece.”

  “That’s lovely,” Dot said cheerfully. “I have two brothers, six kids, and three grandkids. Nothing is as important as family, now, is it. How old is your niece?”

  “Eight,” Wrench ground out.

  “That’s a good age,” she said approvingly. “Not so old they’re in the talking-back stage, but old enough to have a conversation.”

  Wrench grunted politely.

  “Do they live here?” the white-haired woman pried.

  “No ma’am,” Wrench said miserably.

  Her cottage was fortunately not far, and he carried her suitcase just inside the door. “That will do,” she said, and she began to fumble in her purse.

  “No tips, ma’am. It’s all inclusive,” Wrench reminded her.

  She came up with a mint that had clearly traveled further than Dot had. “Take a mint, boy.”

  Wrench dutifully took the mint and fled back to his mosaic.

  Chapter 4

  The spa was all the familiar chaos that Lydia had missed. She exchanged enthusiastic embraces with each of her assistants and dived in to get guests set up with pedicures and facials. When two of the guests were chattering together in Russian, she was able to get more of the gossip from Laura.

  “Kidnapped!” Lydia exclaimed as the tale unwove.

  “My fault, really,” Laura explained. “The cartel I worked for took offense to my desire for retirement, and they thought Jenny was me, and sent Wrench to bring me back.”

  “Wrench?”

  “He’s really an okay guy,” Laura was quick to explain. “He let her go when he figured out it wasn’t me, and when we gave him a chance to give testimony against his boss in a plea bargain, he took it.”

  “That sounds a little overly trusting,” Lydia suggested. “Good people don’t go around kidnapping innocent people.”

  Laura shrugged, patting off her client’s foot with a towel. “You could argue that good people don’t end up working for the cartel, but it’s hard to turn down a job when you’re in a tight place. He made the right choice in the end. Gave up a suitcase of money, even.”

  Lydia pursed her lips. “You’re right of course,” she said, not wanting to paint Laura with the same brush; she liked the curvy wolf shifter. It was hard to picture her working for a mob organization. “And if Scarlet thinks he’s worth giving a chance, I have to trust her judgment.”

  Laura’s smile was bright and grateful. “But that’s not the only gossip you missed. Bastian found his mate, too!”

  At the reminder, Lydia was aware again of how close her own mate was, tantalizing and exciting. She wanted to share the news, but almost as much, she wanted to hold the knowledge close, to savor the anticipation privately a little longer. “Bastian! How delicious! Who is she?”

  “Her name is Saina. She’s a siren, and she’ll be singing tonight in the bar if you don’t see her before then.”

  “A siren!” Lydia exclaimed. “An actual mermaid? I didn’t know they even existed.”

  “That’s a story I’ll let them tell you,” Laura teased her. “But come hear her sing tonight.”

  “I was only gone a few weeks, and you had a storm, and kidnappings, and a whole raft of new staff!” Lydia exclaimed. “There you are,” she said to the owner of the foot she was pampering. “Can I get you a little polish for these happy toes?”

  “Oh, yes, please,” the guest said in her thick Russian accent. “It’s been ages since they’ve been shown off in sandals. I want them to look their best!”

  Lydia let her choose a color and bent to apply it. “Where is Angela?”

  “Ran off with Mr. Brazil after the World Mr. Shifter competition,” Laura giggled.

  “Good for her,” Lydia laughed in return.

  “And have you seen Mr. Professional Hockey player from Sweden? A looker, but man, he’s got to lay off explaining to everyone he meets that he’s a real hockey player. You know, expert?” Laura’s false Swedish accent was amusing.

  “I had the honor of watching him explain that to everyone on the plane,” Lydia said, rolling her eyes.

  They put the finishing touches on their clients and helped them out of the chairs.

  “Scarlet said there was a meeting at three?” Lydia said, looking over the schedule. It was always ridiculously busy shortly after the charter planes came in, then died to an irregular, easy workload.

  “Senior staff only. It’s starting to slow up for now. I can keep an eye on things here,” Laura promised, looking at the clock. “Have you had a chance to unpack yet?”

  “I don’t travel with much,” Lydia said. “I’ll head down a little early and catch up with the others. It sounds like a lot of congratulations are in order.” And her own would follow soon, she knew, but she kept the excitement from bubbling over out of her mouth. “I’ll be back right afterwards!”

  Laura gave her a last swift hug before she left; they hadn’t known each other long, but Lydia had felt an immediate kinship with the woman when they met. They had bonded over hospitality horror stories and coffee, and Lydia was well-disposed to any mate of Tex’s.

  A large part of her wanted to turn the direction she knew her mate was, but Lydia made her feet walk down from the spa to the conference room behind the kitchen where Scarlet held the staff meetings.

  Breck, the leopard shifter who ran the waitstaff, was already there, and he abandoned his futile teasing of Graham, to rise and wrap her in an enthusiastic embrace. “Lydia, my love, come save me from this dour grouch and the terrible contagion of mates in this room.”

  “I’ve heard!” Lydia exclaimed with a laugh, returning his embrace with a sisterly kiss on the cheek. “First Tex, now Travis and Bastian!”

  “It’s awful,” Breck said, dropping into a chair beside her. “I’m afraid to drink the water.”

  Lydia patted his leg reassuringly as she sat beside him. “It wouldn’t be so bad, would it?” she teased.

  “I’m not done sampling all the beautiful people the world has to offer,” Breck said firmly.

  “You won’t want anything else,” Tex, the bartender and bear shifter, told him, pulling up a chair on the other side of Lyd
ia. She leaned over to give him a sitting half-hug.

  “Maybe you didn’t,” Breck said skeptically. “But you weren’t gifted with a libido like mine.”

  Travis gave a friendly laugh as he took a seat across the table with Chef and Bastian. “No one in the world has been ‘gifted’ with a libido like yours.”

  “On other topics,” Scarlet interrupted firmly, “we do have business to cover.” The resort owner tolerated Breck’s extracurricular activities with guests and staff alike provided it didn’t cause any drama, but she didn’t exactly approve of it.

  Lydia listened politely as Scarlet outlined the bullet points of the resort business. Comment cards had come back from the World Mr. Shifter event, and most of it was positive. They were having unfortunate supply problems following the storm that Lydia had missed, and their lack of a boat was complicating their ability to restock.

  “The insurance company doesn’t really have a leg to stand on,” Scarlet explained. “But they are using all the delay tactics at their disposal. We’re going to have to purchase the boat and roof repairs out of pocket and wait for reimbursement. Most of the profits from the Mr. Shifter contract went to pay off some of our outstanding debts, and we’re going to have to reopen credit at some of our suppliers. I had hoped we would be able to operate in the black after that windfall, but it doesn’t look like we’ll be quite that lucky.”

  “No Christmas bonus,” Breck muttered to Lydia in an aside.

  Scarlet’s sharp ears didn’t miss it. “A minimal bonus, at the most,” she said frankly. “I’m having the accountant go over my numbers again. Last year’s unexpected housing situation put us at a fairly large deficit going into the fiscal year.”

  She was referring to the fact that they had fed and housed, free of charge, a large number of refugees from the shifter zoo that had been kidnapping people from all over the world that had been on the other side of the island from the resort. None of the staff had protested the act of charity, but it had dented the operating budget of the resort rather severely.

  “On the upside,” she continued, “we do have a busy schedule for the remainder of the year and well into the first months of the next. As we had hoped, the World Mr. Shifter competition gave us a great deal of positive press in the shifter community. If the insurance company stops balking and this trend continues, we should be back in the black early next year.”

  “And if nothing major breaks,” Travis added cautiously. “I’m not sure how much longer the air conditioner in the hotel is going to keep grinding on.”

  Scarlet grimaced. “Cross your fingers,” she said. “We’re well stocked in duct tape, at least.”

  The rest of the staff went around the table and updated each other on plans and problems. Lydia gave the okay to put her morning yoga, meditation, and dance classes back on the schedule. “I’m also certified in acupuncture now, so we should add that to the list of services!”

  “Congratulations,” Scarlet said, with a warm smile as she noted it down on her clipboard. “And welcome back! You missed some exciting weeks.”

  Lydia could only smile secretly. She knew that the most exciting week of her life was just ahead of her.

  Chapter 5

  Wrench held the shampoo bottle at arm’s length, squinting at the butterfly on the label as it compared to the butterfly he had plastered onto the wall.

  It was better.

  Having a reference had helped. The first butterfly, down in the corner of the wall was awkward and cartoony. The second was not much better, but this one, larger, had a more correct form, and a more pleasing placement on the wall.

  “Oh.”

  Wrench turned in alarm to find that a woman had come into the private courtyard while he was inspecting his work.

  And not just any woman.

  She had a healthy, unadorned beauty, from the crown of her straight, shoulder-length dark hair to the curves of her tanned skin. She was standing like a dancer, poised to fall into motion at the slightest hint of music. Her body was a lush combination of strength and softness, and Wrench might have stared at the generous expanse of her cleavage if he had not been entirely captured by the gorgeous planes of her face and the eternity in her brown eyes.

  “Oh,” he said in return.

  Oh yes, his panther said, stretching in his head.

  For a lengthy moment, they stood there, just staring at each other.

  “You must be Wrench,” she finally said.

  “Yeah,” Wrench was able to say gruffly. “You’re gonna be Lydia.”

  He was torn. Most of him wanted to gather her up in his arms and lay her down on the tiles of the courtyard right then and there. The rest of him, humiliated, wanted to cover the work that he’d done on her wall. It was insufficient. It was unworthy. It was painfully amateur.

  “So,” she said softly. “You’re my mate.” She was toying with a necklace.

  “Yeah,” Wrench agreed, at his panther’s urging. “I guess so,” he added.

  Her eyes flashed with something. Pity? Wrench hated pity worse than being touched.

  “This is awkward,” he said swiftly, scowling. “It’s gotta be a disappointment. I mean, ah, not you. You’re not. Just....” Me. I’m the disappointment. He was the kind of guy you wanted to scare off door-to-door salesmen and tax collectors. He wasn’t the kind of guy a nice woman like this dreamed of for a mate. Any other day of his life, he would have been just fine with his role, but for the first time, he wished he were someone else. Someone she’d actually want.

  Panther lashed his tail in displeasure. This was not how their meeting was supposed to be going.

  “Oh!” she said swiftly. “I’m not… ah, it’s not. Of course not.” Then her gorgeous face quirked into a brilliant smile. “I’m just caught by surprise,” she said shyly.

  Wrench was not sure he should believe her.

  She looked past him then, and appraised the wall of her courtyard. “Mariposa! I like it,” she said.

  “I can take it down, plaster over it or whatever,” Wrench said swiftly, before he registered her words. “You do?”

  Lydia moved like a dancer, with graceful, purposeful steps, until she was standing close to him, looking at the wall. She smelled like tropical flowers and soap.

  It was intoxicating.

  Panther thought it was better than catnip and Wrench had to squelch his impulse to rub himself on her hair. He took a half-step away.

  “It’s cheerful,” Lydia said approvingly.

  “The first few weren’t right,” Wrench said honestly. “But I found this to look at.” He waved the shampoo bottle at her. “This one’s better.”

  “Will you do more of them?” Lydia gave him a glance from beneath thick, dark eyelashes.

  Wrench would cheerfully have taken the roofs off of every cottage in the resort to break into pieces to make mosaics on every wall she walked past. “I guess.” He shrugged.

  “I’d like that,” Lydia said, biting her lip.

  She was looking at him as appraisingly as she’d looked at the mosaic. “What now?” she asked hesitantly.

  Panther had decided ideas about what came next, and Wrench had to swallow and shift his erection in his pants as discreetly as possible.

  When he didn’t offer any ideas out loud, she suggested, “Do you want to join me for a cup of coffee? Get to know each other?”

  “Coffee,” Wrench echoed stupidly. Panther’s imagination was vivid and involved no clothing, so very little of his blood was getting to his brain.

  “It’s a drink made from caffeinated beans,” Lydia explained. A playful smile lurked at the corners of her mouth.

  She was actually trying to put him at ease, Wrench realized, and he was painfully grateful for her efforts. He drew himself up and tried to mimic Tex as he said, “I’d like that. Ma’am.” He reached for his head before he remembered that he wasn’t wearing a hat, and turned it into an awkward rub at his bristle-short hair.

  “Lydia?” One of the cur
vy identical sisters was standing at the door to the courtyard. Wrench wasn’t sure if it was Laura or Jenny, but he wanted to snarl and throw something at her, even if the moment she was interrupting was awkward and awful.

  Lydia turned away from him to answer. “What is it?”

  “We’ve got someone asking about a deep tissue massage, any chance you’re free?” Her look at Wrench was curious and puzzled, and Wrench scowled back at her.

  “I’ll be right there,” Lydia said.

  Laura-or-Jenny scampered away, and Lydia turned back to Wrench. “How about after dinner?” she suggested.

  “Coffee?” Wrench repeated helplessly.

  “Maybe something not caffeinated,” Lydia suggested. “We could meet at the bar.”

  He knew he was making her do all of the heavy lifting here, but Wrench was desperately out of his depth and adrift. He couldn’t stop imagining what she must taste like, what her skin would feel like, what she’d sound like when he… “Yes,” he choked. “Bar. After dinner. Not caffeinated.”

  She reached out like she might touch him, and Wrench couldn’t quite keep himself from flinching away.

  Her look was puzzled, and a little hurt, Wrench thought, but she gave him a little smile before turning away.

  It wasn’t until after she had glided away that he realized she was going to want to talk to him at the bar that night.

  Chapter 6

  Lydia’s heart was pounding in her chest as she left the tiny courtyard behind the spa.

  Her mate.

  She’d met her mate.

  And he was nothing like she’d expected.

  She’d followed the tug of her mate sense with nervous excitement, eager to meet the man she would spend the rest of her life with… and been surprised to find a great wall of a man who could only be Wrench.

  He was far more handsome than she’d expected when Laura had described him; the tattoos and scars had been part of a much greater package, and not nearly as jarring as she’d expected. The ill-fitting staff polo shirt could not mask the fact that he was built like a tank, every muscle rippling under his adorned skin.