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Authors: Rosanna Leo
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strangely cold and hot at the same time.
She knew she should say something nice to the teens, but couldn’t string coherent words together. She couldn’t even remember her name. Instead, she just watched, helpless, as Anton shook April’s hand and then launched a heated look in her direction.
Clutching her whistle and swallowing her lust, she teetered back to her cabin. Once she was out of his piercing sight, she felt capable of breathing again … or did she seem to breathe better in his presence? She wasn’t sure. All she knew was she didn’t like it.
Determined to forget the pesky tiger and her shameful lynx, she made her way to her cabin. Once there, she slammed and bolted the door. She turned on her laptop and sat down. She spent the next few hours glaring at her work, checking and rechecking the reservations for the next few months.
When that no longer distracted her, she fashioned an Anton voodoo doll out of paper, another of her lynx, and stomped on them both.
Chapter 4
That night, after devouring two boxes of Maltesers and a couple of lime coolers, Marci couldn’t sleep. Even still, she knew the rumbling in her gut had nothing to do with scarfing too much alcohol and chocolaty goodness.
Her poor lynx prowled each corner of her insides, searching for the predator it wanted so badly. At every turn, it offered up its distinctive cry of hunger and loneliness.
She’d been denying the animal what it really needed: a hearty fuck with a gorgeous man. And there was one particular specimen in mind.
Anton .
For the first time, she realized her desire had a name, and it was his.
She couldn’t. It was so unprofessional and he was so … so Anton. What on earth would he do if she threw herself at him? He’d undoubtedly be horrified.
But why should he be? Killian had been happy to sleep with her. Sure, Anton might be an aristocrat in his country, but that didn’t mean she had nothing to offer. Maybe she’d never toured the world or worked outside the resort, and she might be more at home at a country fair than at a fashion show, but she wasn’t just a happy hick. His parents might be shifter royalty, but she was the daughter to Robert and Paula Lennox, lynx shifters and owners of the general store in town. She’d won Employee of the Month fourteen times at the Ursa Lodge and remembered every guest there by name.
She had depth and soul and good intentions.
Wandering over to her dresser, she turned on the record player she’d had since she was a kid. It was her dad’s old record player, the one he’d insisted on giving her because “young people today don’t appreciate vinyl.”
Prying her favorite Rosemary Clooney album from its frayed cover, she placed it on the turntable, positioned the needle, and listened to the strains of You Started Something . As the big band took over from Rosemary’s smooth voice, Marci swayed a little in time to the music. Without even meaning to, she pictured Anton’s enigmatic face.
The man oozed intrigue. The most dangerous thing she’d ever done was learn to hunt hares with her father. Anton’s family had a court and a castle, and intrigue was probably the order of the day there. Her folks had a modest backsplit on the mainland, and the only time things got exciting there was when her mother had one too many gimlets. On those hallowed occasions, someone was bound to break out the dominoes.
Wild times, indeed .
Still, she was a lynx woman and she had her pride. And even though she’d been a late bloomer, there was strength and a certain grace inside her. Anton might think her silly, but he could damn well think what he wanted. She didn’t need his good opinion.
And yet she thought she’d glimpsed something sort of like desire in his eyes at the race today. She’d certainly felt his thick rod of need against her stomach.
Oh, who was she kidding? His erection had probably just been there due to the adrenaline rush of watching the kids race. No, Anton Gaspar was
She knew she should say something nice to the teens, but couldn’t string coherent words together. She couldn’t even remember her name. Instead, she just watched, helpless, as Anton shook April’s hand and then launched a heated look in her direction.
Clutching her whistle and swallowing her lust, she teetered back to her cabin. Once she was out of his piercing sight, she felt capable of breathing again … or did she seem to breathe better in his presence? She wasn’t sure. All she knew was she didn’t like it.
Determined to forget the pesky tiger and her shameful lynx, she made her way to her cabin. Once there, she slammed and bolted the door. She turned on her laptop and sat down. She spent the next few hours glaring at her work, checking and rechecking the reservations for the next few months.
When that no longer distracted her, she fashioned an Anton voodoo doll out of paper, another of her lynx, and stomped on them both.
Chapter 4
That night, after devouring two boxes of Maltesers and a couple of lime coolers, Marci couldn’t sleep. Even still, she knew the rumbling in her gut had nothing to do with scarfing too much alcohol and chocolaty goodness.
Her poor lynx prowled each corner of her insides, searching for the predator it wanted so badly. At every turn, it offered up its distinctive cry of hunger and loneliness.
She’d been denying the animal what it really needed: a hearty fuck with a gorgeous man. And there was one particular specimen in mind.
Anton .
For the first time, she realized her desire had a name, and it was his.
She couldn’t. It was so unprofessional and he was so … so Anton. What on earth would he do if she threw herself at him? He’d undoubtedly be horrified.
But why should he be? Killian had been happy to sleep with her. Sure, Anton might be an aristocrat in his country, but that didn’t mean she had nothing to offer. Maybe she’d never toured the world or worked outside the resort, and she might be more at home at a country fair than at a fashion show, but she wasn’t just a happy hick. His parents might be shifter royalty, but she was the daughter to Robert and Paula Lennox, lynx shifters and owners of the general store in town. She’d won Employee of the Month fourteen times at the Ursa Lodge and remembered every guest there by name.
She had depth and soul and good intentions.
Wandering over to her dresser, she turned on the record player she’d had since she was a kid. It was her dad’s old record player, the one he’d insisted on giving her because “young people today don’t appreciate vinyl.”
Prying her favorite Rosemary Clooney album from its frayed cover, she placed it on the turntable, positioned the needle, and listened to the strains of You Started Something . As the big band took over from Rosemary’s smooth voice, Marci swayed a little in time to the music. Without even meaning to, she pictured Anton’s enigmatic face.
The man oozed intrigue. The most dangerous thing she’d ever done was learn to hunt hares with her father. Anton’s family had a court and a castle, and intrigue was probably the order of the day there. Her folks had a modest backsplit on the mainland, and the only time things got exciting there was when her mother had one too many gimlets. On those hallowed occasions, someone was bound to break out the dominoes.
Wild times, indeed .
Still, she was a lynx woman and she had her pride. And even though she’d been a late bloomer, there was strength and a certain grace inside her. Anton might think her silly, but he could damn well think what he wanted. She didn’t need his good opinion.
And yet she thought she’d glimpsed something sort of like desire in his eyes at the race today. She’d certainly felt his thick rod of need against her stomach.
Oh, who was she kidding? His erection had probably just been there due to the adrenaline rush of watching the kids race. No, Anton Gaspar was
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