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  This was why he was so eager to take on this quarrel with Lucien. Because part of him wants to show off what he can do. She doesn’t think it’s a good idea to call anyone’s attention to them, but she may as well try talking to a cliff wall. They are bound to attract trouble wherever they go.

  To her surprise, Lucien seems very well matched in the strength department. The man is huge, no doubt, but Jared has to be using all his accelerated capabilities. Unless Jared isn’t even trying yet. But both men appear to be taxed, with their forearm muscles in complete and severe tension. The veins in their forehead throb and their jaws are clenched.

  Come on, she thinks. And she is not completely sure who she is cheering for.

  Then she sees the telltale twitch in Jared’s cheek, and she knows he is channeling all his strength. And he has considerable strength even when he is in his human form.

  Lucien’s forearm starts to bend. His eyes narrow as he fights back.

  She raises her knuckles to her mouth and bites on them. The anticipation is killing her.The people around them crowd closer.

  “Come on, Mr. Walker,” says the waiter who has shown them in.

  “You can do it, Mr. Walker.”

  Lucien’s forearm is now three inches off the table. He is grunting and resisting everything Jared has to throw at him. It is not a fair contest, Shannon thinks. No normal human being can go up against Jared.

  Lucien’s forearm comes up again in a burst of strength. Now he is almost back to midline. Jared seems surprised.

  Jared starts to growl. Once again, he takes Lucien’s arm down in a pendulum arc of strength. Beads of sweat dot both men’s foreheads. Shannon’s teeth indent her knuckles, and she takes them away, surprised to see the deep tooth marks.

  Lucien has not had the upper hand in this contest of wills yet. Not once has his forearm brought Jared’s down across the midline.

  “Raise you ten dollars on the dark-haired guy,” mutters one patron behind Shannon.

  She feels a flush going into her cheeks.

  She’s close enough to the two men to smell their sweat of locked determination. She’s close enough to see every scalloped vein on their temples and arms, every detail of their grim faces. She finds herself admiring Lucien Walker’s face again. Truly, he has the face of a Nordic god. His chin with the little cleft juts out like a profile on a Scandinavian coin. His blue, blue eyes sparkle with contained effort.

  Because she is studying him surreptitiously (or at least, as surreptitiously as she would like to think), she sees the sudden change in color that comes over his eyes.

  It is fleeting. She doesn’t think anyone else has noticed it. But it is unmistakable. One moment, his eyes are cornflower blue – the startling blue of an Impressionist painting – and the next, they are completely black, as though his irises have been taken over by his pupils. It is as if an eclipse has come over the sun.

  Then, as quickly as it has appeared, it is gone.

  She blinks. Is she imagining things?

  Lucien Walker seems to have a burst of strength. For the first time since the arm wrestling began, he now has inched Jared’s arm over the midline. Gasps of appreciation issue from the onlookers. Jared is shocked.

  “Urrrr,” he grunts. With another feral spurt of energy, he slowly claws his way back.

  But Lucien is unstoppable. His arm comes down again and forces Jared’s hand down . . . down . . . down.

  “Oh!” The gasp which escapes her lips makes Jared’s gaze dart at hers for a split second.

  That second is all Lucien needs. He slams Jared’s arm down against the table with a thump. Jared cries out with the pain.

  The little crowd erupts in applause. Hometown boy wins!

  “Fuck!” Jared cries. He is clearly disbelieving over what just happened. He stares at Lucien’s smug face.

  She knows what he is thinking. No one has ever bested Jared before in a show of strength since the Change. She’s thinking the same thing about Lucien.

  What the hell are you?

  WINNINGS

  “I’ll be collecting my winnings now,” Lucien says, standing up.

  They both massage their elbows. It has been a strong, well-matched contest. Jared is still glowering, and Shannon can tell he will not be satisfied with this outcome. He will demand a rematch.

  “I’m sorry,” Lucien continues, shifting his gaze to her, “but we haven’t been properly introduced. I am Lucien Walker, as you have no doubt deduced. You are?”

  He leaves it hanging.

  She discovers her tongue. “I’m Shannon.”

  “I know. I heard your name the first time from your brother. But I would like to know the full name of the beautiful woman I am going to date.”

  Jared bridles at this, but she stays his arm. He won it fair and square.

  “I’m Shannon Bellamy. And this is my brother, Jared Bellamy.”

  “So you are indeed brother and sister.”

  “Um, we are not actually related by blood. My mother married his father and I decided to take the name ‘Bellamy’.”

  “That’s too much information, sis,” Jared says sarcastically.

  “No, on the contrary, I find it very interesting.” Lucien’s blue eyes favor hers again, and a thrill of excitement shoots down her gut. “May I pick you up tonight, Shannon, at seven thirty?”

  Her mouth goes dry. “I-I don’t know where we’ll be staying.”

  “Yeah, Shannon,” Jared cuts in. He puts a proprietary hand on the small of her back. “We’ll have to be going. See you later, Lucien Walker.” He pronounces it as though it is acid in his mouth. “Come on, Shannon.”

  “Wait,” she says, turning back to an increasingly amused Lucien, “I’ll leave you my number.”

  She fumbles in her purse for her cellphone. Her movements are nervous, jittery. Lucien makes her nervous, especially with the way he watches her. Jared makes her nervous because you can practically smell the agitation coming off him in waves.

  “Wait,” Lucien says, “there’s another part of the bargain I haven’t disclosed to either of you. I would be honored if you both would be my guests for the night in this modest hotel.”

  Both she and Jared are taken aback.

  “That wasn’t part of the deal,” she says, licking her lips. Does he really want me . . . or is he playing both of us? She remembers the darkness which has come over Lucien’s eyes and she wonders if he knows she saw it. But she doesn’t sense a danger vibe from him.

  You’re interested in me.

  I’m interested in you too.

  But in what capacity?

  Jared says, “Why, thank you, Lucien. That is very generous of you.” He has his hand on her back again. “So generous that we will both accept.”

  What? She darts a look at him in surprise. She didn’t think he would accept Lucien’s offer. She thought he would be too proud.

  But perhaps she thought wrong. Perhaps he wants his rematch tonight. Perhaps he wants revenge on Lucien for besting him in front of a dozen people. Perhaps he noticed Lucien’s fleeting metamorphosis and he wants to investigate further.

  “Excellent.” Lucien smiles at Jared. It’s a smile that doesn’t quite touch his eyes. There’s a challenge in his expression. I’ll find out who you really are.

  A shudder runs down her spine. Is this such a good idea after all to remain here? Something bad is going to happen, she can feel it in her gut.

  The waiter says tactfully, “I’ll get the bellboy to bring up your bags. Which room shall I put Mr. and Ms. Bellamy in, sir?”

  “Not a room but two suites,” Lucien pronounces. “Give them the Heartwood and Northam suites, Tod, and break out two bottles of champagne. Nothing but the gracious best for our guests.”

  The waiter grins. “Of course, sir.”

  As he scuttles off to get the bellboy, Shannon can’t help feeling that everything is going in a way that neither she nor Jared would have dreamt of.

  HEARTWOOD

 
The Heartwood Suite is not as huge as most hotel suites go, but this is a boutique hotel and Shannon supposes it is as good as it gets in Dolphin’s Bay. The suite consists of a small lounge where a patterned and purposefully mismatched sofa set forms the décor. A bucket of ice lies on the table before the couch and a bottle of champagne has been placed in it.

  Too bad she doesn’t like champagne. Alcohol of any sort sends her mind into a tailspin and her focus unbalanced.

  The carpet is plush under her bare feet. She has already shrugged off her heels and her tired feet sink into the softness. The lounge has a wall to wall glass window which looks out into the flower garden she saw from the restaurant terrace. She peers out of this window, taking in the sky with the scudding rain clouds.

  The bedroom is attached to the lounge. It is very pretty, tasteful, with colors that run the gamut of cherry red for the wood furnishings and pastels for the sheets. It is a happy place with happy vibes, and she immediately experiences a cheer she has not felt for a long time.

  She wonders if Jared finds the Northam Suite to his liking or he will just find a reason to crap. Jared has changed a lot from the teenager she once knew. Most of her affection for him still stems from the tides they have been through together when they were merely two unusual young people against a world which does not tolerate differences, and not from what he has become in recent times.

  She is tired from the journey, and so she runs a long bath with bath salts and has a nice soak all by herself. Then she takes a nap.

  When she wakes up, it is six thirty in the evening.

  Her date!

  It has been on her dreams when she fell asleep, and how she has to prepare herself for Lucien Walker. How should she dress? Her usual style is casual chic – with lots of short skirts and sleeveless tees. She knows she looks good in this ensemble because she is always trying to emphasize her long slim legs. But Lucien Walker is a man of class and taste. His family owns this hotel, after all, and goodness knows how many other hotels and properties in this area. She should make an effort to look just as classy.

  The trouble is she hasn’t brought many clothes with her. Most of her clothes have been left behind in Tupelo because Jared and she were in such a hurry to leave – with good reason. What she has is functional. Not meant for a real date with a handsome, sophisticated multimillionaire.

  Oh, the age old bane of a woman! I have nothing to wear!

  She dumps her entire suitcase on her bed and peruses each article of clothing with scrunched nose scrutiny.

  The red top has too much of a plunging neckline. Nope.

  The green strapless dress is too tight at the bust, and can only be worn without a bra. Nope.

  The blue blouse with the sparkly neckline has too much bling and probably looks too cheap for the likes of Lucien Walker. Nope.

  In the end, she settles for her most expensive piece – a lavender dress with an asymmetrical hemline for its skirt. It brings out the violet of her eyes and the blackness of her hair. She clips on some of the very few pieces of costume jewelry she brought with her – a pair of sparkly amethyst earrings against a cluster of small diamante stones.

  She appraises herself in the mirror. She has to admit she is beautiful. But her looks have never been a problem. It is . . . the other thing.

  A knock comes on her door. Her heart leaps.

  So soon?

  But I’m not ready!

  “Coming,” she says frantically. Why is she all a-flutter? Why is her pulse suddenly tapping at her neck like a persistent, excited drum?

  She opens her door without peeking through the peephole.

  “You’re early,” she begins, and is deflated to see Jared standing out there.

  “All prepared for your date, huh?” he drawls as he saunters in.

  “Jared, I have to go soon.”

  “Yeah.” He flops his long body on the couch. “Nice suite, courtesy of your boyfriend.”

  “He’s not my boyfriend.”

  Jared lifts her feet and plunks them on the long glass table in front of the sofa. “The way he looks at you . . . it’s like he wants to eat you. Which mightn’t be a bad thing.”

  He gazes at her out of narrowed eyes. He grins wolfishly.

  “I remember the way I used to eat you.”

  Her cheeks burn.

  “That was a long time ago and it was a mistake.”

  “Not from what I remember. I remember you moaning and begging me not to stop.”

  “It was experimental and we were very young. Please don’t refer to it anymore, Jared.”

  “Why ever not? Just because you don’t want to talk about it doesn’t mean it never happened. You don’t have to feel so embarrassed about it. It isn’t as if we are blood related or anything. And even if we were – ”

  He lets it trail as his gaze lingers on her breasts and curves under the pretty lavender dress which shows them off so elegantly. She squirms under his watchful gaze.

  “Don’t do that, Jared. You know you agreed not to do that ages ago.”

  “Doesn’t mean I won’t be tempted from time to time, especially when the time of the month gets me.”

  Another knock comes on the door.

  Lucien!

  Flustered, she tries to temper her walk to the door. She does not want to show Jared her seeming haste to answer it.

  Lucien stands out there this time. He is in a casual blue shirt with the top two buttons undone and a pair of brown slacks. He is so tall that he almost fits into the entire doorframe.

  “Hi,” he says, staring at her.

  His blue eyes are as startling as ever, and her stomach does a little fluttery hop. She has not been appreciated by such a handsome man in a long, long time, and the sensation is simultaneously enervating and empowering.

  “God,” he says, “you’re beautiful.”

  “Thank you.” Her cheeks have not stopped burning since five minutes ago. She wonders how she will get through this night.

  “Good evening to you too,” Jared calls from the couch.

  If Lucien is disappointed to see him, he does a great job of masking it. “Well, hello, Jared. How did you find the suite?”

  Jared doesn’t get up, which itself is a telling message to Lucien that he considers the hotelier lesser than he is. Shannon is disappointed at her adopted brother’s lack of manners to whom she considers a very gracious host.

  “Not too shabby, Lucien,” Jared says.

  Shannon grabs her purse and her jacket. “I’ll be leaving now. You plan on staying here?” she says pointedly to her brother.

  He grins. “Of course not. I’ll be cruising the town myself.”

  “Be careful,” she says with a hidden meaning.

  Be careful not to antagonize anyone . . , and be careful to stay under the radar.

  “Of course I will, sis. Aren’t I always?”

  “I’m going,” she says again.

  “OK, OK, it’s not as if I’m going to rifle through your lingerie.”

  She stands there until he uncurls his body from the couch and makes to leave. Lucien stands there, watching this exchange with a slightly amused look of understanding.

  “Shall we go?” Lucien proffers his arm to her.

  She takes it. His clothed arm is warm to her hand.

  “You ready to go?” Lucien asks, smiling.

  “Yes.”

  This exchange is noted sourly by Jared.

  “Should I be waiting up?” he says to Shannon.

  She tears her gaze away from Lucien and eyes him squarely in the face. The two of them cannot be more different as night and day.

  “I shan’t be waiting up for you, for sure, brother.” The challenge is unmistakable. But sometimes she is so tired of always having to cater to his demanding ways.

  “Fine then.”

  “Fine.”

  “Have a good time,” Jared says as a parting shot.

  “We will,” Lucien says, turning her to face the other way and to walk down
the short corridor of suites to the elevators which will take them downstairs.

  THE DATE

  You will never see this man again after tonight, Shannon tells herself. You are a conquest to him, nothing more. A body for him to toy with and discard. So it’s up to you. You can put out and have a good time, or play it coy and leave both of you wanting.

  Either way, he is not for keeps and you both know it.

  So does she want to go all with the way with him tonight and just take it as it is – a treasured experience with a very handsome and charming man who would never want to take it further?

  But she is entitled to a good time just like anyone else. So she lifts her chin and tells herself to stop overthinking things and to not have an inflated ego of her own charms. After all, he might not want you that way.

  But the protective warmth she feels from his arm is nice, and from the way his blue eyes light on her now and then – with interest and desire – she doesn’t think so.

  He leads her out of the reception. A mustard yellow Mustang awaits them outside. Lucien opens the passenger door for her.

  “After you, beautiful lady.”

  “You have two cars?”

  OK, of course he has more than one car. His family owns the hotel, right? Once again, she feels as if she is in over her head.

  It’s just a date. Don’t make it more than it really is. By tomorrow, he won’t even want to know you.

  She gets in, and he closes the door behind her. He goes around to the driver’s side and enters the Mustang. Thank goodness it has stopped raining.

  “Do you like Italian?”

  “You mean food?”

  “I’ll take that as a yes. Sorry I don’t fulfill your wet Italian dreams, but I assure you I can whip up a mean rigatoni.”

  She flushes. She is acting like a schoolgirl around him, and she does not quite know why he does that to her. Maybe it’s because he’s so huge. She feels positively tiny compared to him.