Alice stared at her in consternation. If there was anything worse than Scarlet knowing that Alice was a spy, it was Scarlet thinking Alice was pining over the gorgeous gardener who had upended her life by turning out to be her mate.
Even if she sort of was.
Scarlet’s gaze was unsettling, even when she was clearly trying to be gentle. “Graham is a good man,” she said evenly. “He’s quiet, but clever, and he works very hard. He is kind. He would treat you well.”
This was a hundred times worse.
Alice tried to laugh and failed spectacularly. “I’m sure he is. Er, I’m sure he would. Ah, thank you,” she squeaked. “I don’t think it’s going anywhere, though. I’ve got... a job, you know. He... has a job. Jobs we love. Jobs we need. Good jobs.” She clamped her mouth shut, knowing she had said job entirely too many times in a row... and now she could only think about blowjobs, because her traitor bear was feeding her memories of Graham’s naked splendor and she was helpless in the rush of desires that had come with talking about him at all.
If Scarlet had a clue what was going on in her head, Alice didn’t want to know. “I’m really sorry I bothered you,” she said desperately, rising to her feet. She knew which battles to concede. “Thank you for your time. Lovely resort. Great food.”
And she fled out into the courtyard, shutting the door behind her out of habit.
She didn’t get far, only as far as the bench in the courtyard, where she collapsed and tried to get her tangled mind in order.
She shoved Graham—and his glorious cock—from her mind with effort. She had to make some progress with Scarlet’s shift form. She had to, or she could kiss her only hope for saving her family goodbye.
Alice drew in deep breaths, searching for her usual calm and carefree attitude. She wasn’t going to get much out of Scarlet directly, she was sure. But she could use her senses.
With each breath came smells.
Usually, it was just a wild symphony of scents, all tangled together in an overwhelming disharmony that no one else seemed to notice. But if she concentrated, she could pick them out... a wolf shifter had been here... maybe Laura? No, a different wolf. Another bear, as well, perhaps Tex, but just as likely a guest.
Most shifters came through the courtyard in human shape; she could smell soap and sweat and alcohol, leather and plastic from luggage, the tang of grease from their wheels, tantalizing whiffs of the breakfast Chef must be finishing up at the restaurant, the undertone of saltwater on the breeze.
She could smell the little cream-colored cat with Siamese points in orange, and its deodorizing cat litter. She could smell the paper of the mail on Scarlet’s desk, the distinct musty old book smell; all of Scarlet’s books appeared to be older used books.
And muffling it all were the flowers and vines and potted plants throughout the courtyard. Over the vivid, pushy jungle smells, Alice couldn’t pick out any animal scent that was strong enough to be someone who lived here. The strongest of the animal scents was actually lion—Graham’s lion, specifically—musky and earthy and irresistible. Alice gritted her teeth and pushed to her feet.
She was getting nowhere, fast, and she could
feel her chance slipping through her fingers. She realized she’d been crying as the tears started to dry on her cheeks, and scrubbed them away defiantly.
She had to find out what Scarlet was.
There was no other choice.
Chapter 14
Graham peeled off his gardening gloves at the end of the row and sat back on his heels. Did she have to be so hot?
Alice was relentlessly disturbing to him, with the proud lift to her jaw, and the soft mane of her short hair. Even the way she stood, alert and poised on those long, long legs... and worst of all were her hazel eyes, glittering and full of challenge.
Graham wasn’t sure if he wanted to answer that challenge or simply sink to his knees at her feet in surrender the way his lion was sure they should.
He had no interest in running into Alice by accident, so even though he was hungry after a morning of work, Graham gave the buffet a wide berth and found himself sitting behind the hotel at the picnic table he had gotten in the habit of eating at with Breck and Neal before the latter had moved away from the island with his mate.
It somehow didn’t surprise him when Neal appeared, carrying a tray from the buffet.
“How the tables have turned,” the red-maned wolf shifter said wryly. “Sandwich?” When Neal had first come to Shifting Sands, it had been hard for him to accept Scarlet’s generosity. Breck and Graham had taken to discreetly bringing extra food to share at the picnic table so he didn’t have to select his own food from the buffet.
Graham shrugged, then nodded. “Thanks.”
Even a second-rate sandwich from the buffet was something you didn’t turn down. Scarlet insisted on the highest quality of everything; the bread was fresh and fluffy, the meat was cold and flavorful, paired with a creamy cheese, lettuce from Graham’s garden, and a spicy mustard.
“I didn’t mean to embarrass you in front of everyone,” Neal said, after a few moments of eating in silence. “It sounded like you... hadn’t wasted time.”
Graham hunched miserably over his meal and didn’t respond.