Tall Dark Handsome Lycan (10 page)

His mother narrowed her gaze on him and Sam wondered about the strange look that passed between them. 

“I couldn’t have explained the Tarot better myself,” Sam said.

He shrugged nonchalantly, but she could see a smile hovering about his mouth.
“I actually found myself compelled to learn more about it. I admit I find it very interesting.”

Christina broke their locked
gazes, asking abruptly, “Are you any good?”

“I…I think so.
My clients always come back for repeat business and they’ve given me many referrals. That’s why I hired Toni to come work with me. I’ve been spending more time in the back of my shop than in the front.”

“Tell me, Miss Hope,” Leo’s mother
continued, “is there anything else we should know about you?”

Sam took a deep breath and gave the woman a direct
look. “Only that I’m honoured to have Toni as a sister-in-law and I am very happy you will finally meet John next month.”

“Let’s drink to that,” Harry announced, proudly raising his glass.

“Once again, father,” Leo said, “I find myself agreeing with you.”

                                                   
* * * *

Leo had been in the library for over an hour, his mind going over every detail. It was almost midnight and he stretched out his long legs as he took another swig of whiskey, leaning back on the sofa.

There was no question
someone had tampered with Sam’s file.  The real, live woman sleeping in one of the rooms upstairs wasn’t anything like the woman in the file Matt sent him. 
Prostitution, shoplifting, fraud.

Every bone in Leo’s body was telling him Matt’s file was altered, and he had a strong suspicion who it was.  The culprit could not be someone who had access to Matt’s email.  Matt Walker was the best PI in
New York, and he would never be careless with his security.  

Remorse
flowed through Leo’s veins as he recalled how ruthlessly he had treated Sam on the phone when he’d called a week before the wedding and again yesterday when he met her at the airport.

Yet, as much as he had to get to the bottom of this, he had a bigger problem to contend with.  How was he going to tell Sam his family came from a long line of werewolves originating six hundred years ago?

                                                 * * * *

Sam stopped pacing her bedroom floor and sighed.  She glanced at her clock.  It was already three hours since the dinner party ended and sleep was not coming any closer.  She pursed her lips and left her room.

A few minutes later she opened the library door and stifled a gasp.  She hadn’t expected to see Leo at this hour when she walked into the room.  “Oh. I’m sorry.  I came down for a book. I couldn’t sleep.”

“Me either,” he said.
“Please, help yourself.  What type of book do you want to read?  I can point you in the right direction.”

Sam walked over to the floor to ceiling shelves and smiled
.  She couldn’t believe how big his collection was.  She ran her gaze over the titles.

“Oh, you have a
selection on royalty. Mm. I haven’t read this one yet,” she said.  She glanced at him and nearly jumped back when she saw how close her stood to her.  She couldn’t believe how a man as big as he could move as quietly as a mouse.  “I…I enjoy paranormal romances, but I love reading other genres as well, both fiction and non-fiction.”

“What kind of paranormal romances do you enjoy?  I believe we have some books on magic.”

“I enjoy werewolf and vampire romances.”

A shutter fell over his face.  Was he scoffing her reading choice?  “They’re wildly popular and quite thrilling to read.”

“And you find the notion of a human loving a beast romantic?”

She shrugged.  “It’s all make believe.  Besides, the heroes in the books aren’t classified as beasts.  They’re men with honour and grace, bravery and gallantry.”

“I see.  So you’re not afraid of werewolves.”

She frowned.  “Not afraid of them?  They’re make believe.”

He shrugged casually.  “How are we to know what does and does not exist?  People believe in God, yet no one has seen Him.”

She laughed.  “That’s different.  You can’t compare the existence of God versus the existence of werewolves.”

“Why not?”

“Wait a minute.  Are you debating the existence of werewolves with me?  Do you believe there’s a possibility they’re real?”

“I believe if you cannot see something, that does not necessarily mean it does not exist.”

“Some people would call that blind faith.  So you believe in God?” 

“Of course.”

“And werewolves?”  She laughed, realising how ridiculous her question sounded and she turned back to the bookshelf, not expecting an answer.  A series of art books caught her attention and she looked up at him.  “Do you have any books on
Impressionists?”

He was silent for such a long time, staring deeply into her eyes, she wondered if he even heard her. 
“Yes, we do.  I believe I have one on Monet.” He walked down a few feet to another shelf. “Here it is,” he said as he pulled it out of the shelf and handed it to her.

The book was heavy.  Intrigued,
she flipped through a few pages, admiring the beautiful paintings. Sam smiled at him. “Thanks.”

Leo’s
gaze flickered to her mouth. “During dinner you mentioned you minored in Art. Do you paint?”

“I dabble, I
’m afraid.”

His
eyes softened and Sam’s breath caught at the warm look on his face.  “You made quite an impression on my parents, Sam. Especially my mother, which is saying a lot because she has met some very interesting characters in her existence.”

What an odd word to use.  Existence. 
“Your family seems very close.”

“We are.
Like your family. It seems we have something in common.”

There was s
omething different about him tonight. He seemed warmer, friendlier, she thought.  Nervously, she cleared her throat. “Your parents speak English very well.”

“They
have lived all over the world.  My parents speak five languages.”

Astonishment made her brows rise. 
“That’s very impressive.  Do you speak other languages apart for English and Greek.”

“Yes.  I am fluent in seven languages.” 

She wondered how in the world he and his parents found the time to learn so many languages and was about to ask him when he cleared his throat abruptly and walked to a coffee table.  He grabbed his glass and took a deep swig of the amber liquid.  He looked over his shoulder.

“My apologies.  I did not ask you if you would like a drink.”

She waved a hand in the air.  “Oh, no.  That’s fine.  I’m not much of a drinker.”  She smiled.  “So you own  a string of hotels?”

He nodded, taking another deep swig of his drink, and rested his glass down with a slight thud.  Something was bothering him.  He seemed unsettled, she thought, noticing the slight tightening of his mouth. 

Suddenly, a familiar sensation grew in the pit of her stomach. Sam went still. Could it be? Yes!  She was finally able to pick up on his aura.  She stared up at him, entranced by the myriad of colours she saw around him. Sam tried to pay attention to what he was saying, but she was too distracted by the yellows and reds and purples around him. It was like a veil had been lifted from her eyes and she could finally see him for the first time. Did this mean she could draw her cards and read him?

“My
great grandfather started the business with one hotel and, as my mother mentioned, the business was passed down to each generation.” He paused and took in her interested look. “I actually think we’ve gotten too big.”

His aura disappeared and she focused on his words. 
“Too big? Has service suffered?

“No, but I do
feel we have gotten to a scale where we have lost my great grandfather’s values. Our hotels used to have a personal touch.  They were catered to our clientele’s individual and personal needs. Now we have become just another hotel chain.”

“Do you blame yourself?

Leo shrugged. “Partly, but it is of no consequence, I suppose, as I am in the process of doing something about it.”

“So you want to downsize your business to
focus on quality control.”

Leo nodded, smiling.
“In a manner of speaking, yes.”

Sam frowned delicately.
“Won’t you feel responsible when your employees lose their jobs with the sale? Don’t new owners usually replace most of the existing staff with employees of their own?”

His smile glimmered with admiration
. “You are right. They do. That is why I am making sure that does not happen. I have set up a contract that will forbid it for the first year after the sale. After the first year, the property can be converted into another business. At least that will give everyone time to plan for themselves.”

She heard words in her head and murmured them out loud. 
“A home away from home.”

Surprise darkened his face.  “That was
my great grandfather’s vision.  He used to say his hotel was a home away from home.  How do you know this?”

Sam shrugged.
“I don’t know. I…I felt it,” she said quietly.

How did she know anything that just popped up into her mind?
Sometimes she sensed things—specific things—and other times, she saw things—scenes and images with dialogue, like the one she just saw of an elderly man who spoke of his hotel in a gruff voice.

She braced herself as she waited for his cynical reply.
Instead, Leo offered quietly, “I see.”

Wanting to change the subject, she veered toward another subject.  “I had a lovely day at the beach. I met a young boy who spent a couple of hours with me.  He lives in an orphanage.  His name is Alek. 
He seems lonely and afraid, but he has courage and strength, and I can see there’s a part of him that will survive all this. He loves to draw and he has a strong passion to learn.”

“
Why did you not invite him to come for dinner tonight?”

His concern was
genuine and it touched a cord deep within Sam.  She smiled at his immediate show of compassion. “I did, but he refused.” She stopped abruptly, worried and apologetic all at once as her hand flew to her mouth. “I’m sorry. I didn’t even ask you if that would be okay.”

He was already brushing her worry away with his hand.
“Of course it would have been fine.”

Relief flowed through her veins, warming her.
“Thank you, Leo. That’s very kind of you.” She looked at him shyly. “I think you’ll like him. He’s very sweet.”

“Anything I can do to help, Sam.”

“After dinner tonight, I sat in my room and drew him. I can go get the picture. I left it on my nightstand. It’ll only take me a few minutes.”

“I’ll come up with you.
I was going to retire anyway, and your room is just down the hall from mine.”

Sam hugged the two books on royalty and
Impressionists closer to her chest. “Okay,” she said quietly, hoping her face didn’t betray her attack of nerves.

His
eyes didn’t miss a thing, and his face hardened. “Let’s go.”

She followed him up to her room and he politely opened her door.
She placed her books on the bed and handed him the picture of Alek. “Here.”

He regarded it in silence
. Sam knew she had captured the young boy’s fear and vulnerability, pride and strength. Leo gave her an admiring glance.

“You’re a remarkable artist, Sam,” he said gruffly.

“Thank you. It was easy to draw him. Alek has a very expressive face.”

“It
is done, then,” he said abruptly. “We will have him here for dinner tomorrow night.”

Dinner.
Sam felt a tinge of remorse. “Leo, I forgot to thank you for bringing dinner to my room last night. That was very thoughtful of you.”

“Was it only yesterday I me
t you?”  He murmured.

A
warm pool of tension settled in her belly as his dark gaze bore down on hers. He was standing so close to her, she sensed his male energy all around her. It was strong, solid, secure. The colours, light, and energy around him intensified and she was dazed.

This time his aura was all red and purple with blinding streaks of white and she took an anxious step back as his passion hit her like a ton of bricks.
It frightened her. Sam wasn’t ready to explore this new rush of emotion and she backed away from him.

“
Why are you frightened of me?”  He asked, his tone laced with frustration.

“I’m…I’m not.”
How could she tell him she was frightened because for the first time in her life she had no way of knowing anything about her future? That she was lost? That her cards weren’t guiding her with her developing emotions for him?