Palm Haven Shifters: Complete Five-Part Series Read online

  Sean bristled. So what if he bought a house in Palm Haven? That didn’t mean he was about to become a lackey for the clan.

  He plastered an expression of cool indifference on his face and shrugged, “It’s an investment.”

  “Of course,” Cunningham said, keen eyes clearly seeing more than Sean wanted him to. “Well, I’d like to invite you to the club. We have a lot of catching up to do,” the old man said.

  Sean didn’t particularly like the sound of that. Catching up about what exactly?

  As much as he wanted to say he didn’t have the time for drinks and golf ‘at the club’, Sean knew the invite was more a command than a suggestion. One that Sean knew better than to ignore.

  Getting on the Elder’s bad side was not high on his priority list. Especially not while he had plans to court a mate. There was too much to lose.

  He nodded, “I look forward to it.” His even tense tone belied the words, but were satisfactory enough to the Elder that the other man dismissed himself and left Sean’s new home.

  Before he’d let himself relax, Sean patrolled the rest of the house, ensuring he was really and truly alone now. Then he made a call to a highly-regarded security company and offered an obscene amount of money for them to come install a top-of-the-line system right now.

  With that taken care of, Sean had nothing left to do but explore his massive pretentious mansion. How would Emily change it? What would this place look like after her feminine homey touches?

  No matter how hard he tried, every new line of thought brought him back to Emily and the email she’d sent the day before.

  Drop by whenever it’s convenient for you.

  Well, no time like the present, right?

  He could hardly keep his restless anxious tiger in check. After a decade of dreaming about her, wondering where she was, what she was doing — who she was doing — he finally had his chance.

  Or, at least he hoped so. Preliminary searches seemed to suggest she was single.

  Could he be so lucky?

  Only one way to find out.

  Sean waited for the security team to arrive before he left the house and headed into town.

  Before he knew it, he was heading down Sable Street, closely monitoring the numbers going up on the buildings.

  And then he was there. Outside the quaint building that served as headquarters for Emily’s business and her home.

  He drummed his fingers against the steering wheel, debating whether this was too soon. If he seemed too eager. He didn’t want to come on too strong or scare her away. Surely she wouldn’t remember him all of these years later and he didn’t want to seem like a stalker or a creep.

  Sean blew out a long breath.

  “Okay. No biggie. You’re rich and famous and—” he took a glance in the rearview mirror, “handsome to boot. What woman would turn you away?”

  His resolve renewed by his pep talk, Sean got out of the car and walked up the front steps, giving the doorbell a ring.

  There was the sound of shuffling footsteps and the door swung open as Sean’s heart hammered against his ribcage.

  Should he have brought flowers? Wine? He felt so strange standing there empty handed.

  When the door opened, he held his breath, expecting Emily, only to be disappointed when another woman — this one dark-haired with a caramel complexion — was revealed.

  “Hello? Can I help you?” She asked, clearly not expecting visitors.

  Sean glanced at the house number again, then the charming etched sign that confirmed he was in the right place.

  “Uh, yes. I was looking for Emily Westcott? Her email suggested I could drop by whenever it was convenient.”

  The woman’s eyes widened and Sean picked up on the faintest hint of magic crackling around her — another witch.

  “Sean—” she cleared her throat. “I mean, Mr. Simons?”

  He laughed. “Sean’s fine.”

  The door swung open fully and the woman gestured to let him enter.

  “Emily’s been called away to deal with some disaster at the magazine shoot. She’s put together a few sketches and samples for you if you’d like me to show them to you?”

  Sean deflated. She wasn’t here.

  But this was her place. He could smell the fresh floral scent of her, still the same after all of these years, and his tiger itched to rise up and claim her.

  Down, boy.

  He shook his head, hoping to hide his disappointment. “That’s alright. I’d rather meet with her personally.” He neglected to mention the torch he’d been carrying for her for a decade. This woman didn’t need to know about that.

  She frowned and nodded. “I understand. If you’d like to come back tomorrow I can make sure she has a space on her schedule for you.”

  “I’d appreciate that, yes. Thank you.”

  “How’s…” she pulled up a calendar on her phone, “after 3:30?”

  “Perfect,” Sean said, a flutter of nervous excitement flooding his stomach again.

  So maybe she wasn’t there right now. But she would be. And he’d see her. Maybe touch her. Hear her laugh and maybe be lucky enough to be the cause of it.

  He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t disappointed, but he was more determined than ever.

  As he left the little house, he took a lingering look over his shoulder, his tiger still clamoring to find their mate.

  “Soon,” he whispered, his heart growing lighter with the simple promise.

  Chapter 4

  EMILY

  The next morning, over their routine coffee, Sonya broke the news.

  “...And sometime this afternoon Sean Simons is coming by.”

  The declaration caught Emily off-guard and she spit her coffee all over the new swatches she’d just gotten.

  Frantically trying to wipe the fabric clean, she turned to her assistant with wild eyes wide with fresh panic. “What? How do you know that?”

  Sonya shuffled from one foot to the other. “Um… because he stopped by yesterday?”

  Emily’s face froze in an expression of horrified shock and behind her a light bulb exploded, casting half of the office in darkness.

  “He… what?”

  “When you were down at the warehouse. He said you told him to drop by anytime… so he did.”

  Emily swallowed past the heavy lump in her throat. “And I wasn’t here. He’s going to go find another designer and tell everyone that I’m rude and flaky and unreliable and—”

  “Emily,” Sonya sighed, “calm down. I don’t want to spend all morning cleaning up after another tornado.”

  Emily nodded, still gripping the coffee mug with white knuckles. “What did he say?”

  Sonya shrugged. “Not much. He wants to meet you personally. And he’s really hot. You should just be yourself and charm the pants off of him — literally.”

  A flush of heat flooded Emily’s body and her magic responded to the thought of getting to know the attractive recluse personally.

  She shook her head. “Never gonna happen.”

  Sonya groaned. “Really? Why do you have to ruin my fun? He’s rich and hot and clearly has at least a little interest in you. Come on.”

  That made Emily laugh. “Yeah, right. Because hot eligible men are clamoring all over themselves to be a part of this disaster,” she said gesturing at herself.

  Sonya responded with a roll of her eyes, “You don’t give yourself enough credit. You’re creative and spunky, pretty darn adorable and impossible not to love. Why not give it a shot?”

  Emily shook her head. “Nope. No way. This is strictly professional. I don’t need to tarnish my reputation by acting like some… hussy.”

  Her assistant quirked an eyebrow. “Hussy? What decade are we in again?”

  Emily sighed a little laugh. “Yeah yeah. Don’t you have something to do this afternoon?”

  Sonya nodded. “Manuel’s in a play at the daycare.” Her expression made it clear how proud she was of her son and Emily fel
t a little tug deep down inside.

  What would it be like to have that kind of life? A partner, a kid?

  Maybe once she managed to get her own life on track she could consider involving someone else. But not now. And not a super famous billionaire.

  “Why don’t you just take the day off? I can manage. Besides, I don’t want you to see the other half-dozen panic attacks I’m bound to have today,” she joked.

  Sonya smiled and gave her a hug. “Let me know how everything goes, okay?”

  “Of course.”

  As the day wore on, it took everything in Emily’s arsenal to keep herself from panicking. This was big. Huge. Monumental. If she screwed this up, she might as well kiss her reputation — and her career — goodbye.

  She paced around the tiny second bedroom that served as her office, nibbling at her freshly manicured nails. She swatted her hand away. She had to make a great first impression. No. Great wouldn’t be good enough. It had to be fantastic.

  She watched the charming cuckoo clock on the wall tick past 3 o’clock. Still at least half an hour until he showed up.

  With Sonya gone, Emily needed some moral support. And for that, she called Ashley.

  “Hey stranger! I haven’t heard from you in forever!” Ashley answered.

  Emily smiled. They’d been friends for years and Ashley was the one who had connected Sonya and Emily in the first place. She knew her better than anyone.

  “Don’t remind me, I feel guilty enough as it is.”

  Ashley made a sound of disapproval. “What? Why? You’re busy! You’re doing awesome! I saw you on the news the other night.”

  She sat behind the second-hand desk and drummed her fingers against the top. When she’d bought the desk she thought it was cute — shabby chic and with just enough character — now, it seemed ratty, worn and out of place. This was all wrong.

  “Yeah,” she said simply.

  “Oh no,” Ashley said, hearing the quaver in Emily’s voice. “What’s wrong?”

  It was so easy for her, Emily thought. Ashley never got self-conscious. Despite her bountiful curves, she was a knock-out and she knew it. Nothing ever made Ashley second-guess herself and it was that confidence that made Emily — and everyone else — love her so damn much.

  If only she could have a pinch of Ashley’s magic mojo.

  “Um, only that I have Sean Simons coming to my house in half an hour for a consultation?”

  Ashley whistled. “No shit. Like… the Sean—”

  “Yes,” Emily groaned, “don’t remind me. I’m a freaking wreck over here.”

  Ashley tutted through the phone. “What? Why? You’ve done hundreds of these consultations and never gotten nervous about them before,” her friend reminded her.

  “Well, none of them were Sean Simons,” Emily emphasized again.

  “Oh, it can’t be all that bad,” she said and Emily imagined she was rolling her eyes, thinking that Emily was worried over nothing.

  But Emily knew better. Sean Simons was rich. Like, royalty rich. Like he could buy a small country on an impulse kind of rich. Emily had no idea why he wanted to hire her as an interior designer. Her business didn’t exactly cater to the upper class. She’d never even really had any wealthy clientele.

  Though there was no way she could pass up the opportunity.

  “You do realize that if I screw this up, it’s going to be the end of my business,” Emily said.

  “Okay, but you’re not going to screw it up. You’ll be amazing as always,” Ashley said with a confident air that never seemed to leave her.

  Emily wished she knew where her friend got the never-ending supply of cheery optimism.

  “How can you be so certain? No one knows anything about him.”

  Sean Simons acquired his fortune at an early age. An entrepreneurial spirit and unwavering drive for hard work put him on ‘Most Successful’ and ‘Up and Coming’ lists for years.

  The only problem was that Sean refused to do interviews. He never gave permission for his image to be used and after some time, people just accepted that he would remain an enigma. If someone with that much money wanted to stay hidden, then by-God he could afford it.

  “No one knows anything about him. He never goes out in public. But he’s coming to my house,” Emily said with another strangled groan.

  “I bet he’s impossible to please,” she continued, “he’s going to hate everything I suggest and the next thing you know I’ll be the laughingstock of the community.”

  Emily cursed her luck. It was only in the last few months that her business had really been starting to see some success. With Sonya on board she was freed up to let her creativity take flight and the magazine shoot promised to be the launching pad for the career she always wanted.

  Sean Simons was the kind of client that could either make or break her for good. She couldn’t pass up the opportunity to grow her business, but the stress of failing had her nearly at her breaking point.

  Her fingers sparked with the uneasy tension knotting at the base of her neck and she tried to suppress the magic.

  Hiding her powers felt like a crucial part of her was missing. The part that made her feel whole and able to do anything. Without that part she was just like any other girl on the street. She wasn’t anything special. Without her magic, how would anyone ever notice her?

  Better yet, how in the world had Sean Simons?

  “Maybe he’s really hot and single and looking for a wife,” Ashley teased.

  It was just the kind of ludicrous thing that was perfect to break the tension in the air.

  Emily laughed until tears threatened to smudge her carefully-applied eyeliner.

  “Phew, I needed that. Sonya can confirm that he’s hot, but no way is he looking for a wife. Just a designer.”

  “Nothing like a good laugh to cure the nerves,” Ashley added, “but it wasn’t a joke. For all we know, that could be exactly the case.”

  Emily rolled her eyes. “If Sean Simons is looking for a wife, I’m pretty sure he’ll be over-run by super-model applicants.”

  “Fair enough,” Ashley said.

  For a long minute, silence dragged on between them and Emily found her fingernails in her mouth again.

  “Hey, it’s gonna be fine,” Ashley said. “You’ll be great.”

  No sooner had Ashley said it when the doorbell to Emily’s tiny bungalow chimed.

  Her heart leaped into her throat. Was that him? Her eyes darted to the entryway, her pulse hammering in her ears.

  “I think he’s here. Gotta go. Wish me luck!”

  Ashley laughed. “I will, but you don’t need it!”

  They hung up and Emily took a long steadying breath.

  “Okay, Emily. You can do this. He’s just like any other client,” she told herself as she stood and smoothed out her pencil skirt. “Just turn on the charm,” she walked with a purpose to the front door, plastering on her confident professional façade, “he’s not special. He’s just…” her hand closed on the knob and the door swung open on silent hinges. Her eyes fell on the man on her front step.

  Really hot… She thought, her mouth suddenly going dry.

  Damn, Sonya wasn’t kidding. She stared at him for a moment – golden skin covered his features, a strong chiseled jaw free of any stubble, a straight nose and eyes that glowed with an orange warmth beneath the coppery irises. Her mind buzzed with the sudden tizzy of activity throughout her body. Her chest swelled and felt tight underneath her button-down blouse. She suddenly became aware of how the buttons strained over her chest.

  Her gaze fell to his mouth. She still hadn’t managed to say anything to the stranger and he stood there with his hands clasped behind his back, waiting for her. The corners of his lips turned upwards in a smirk and Emily caught a glimpse of pointed canines. She took in his whole image – a trim athletic build in an impeccably tailored suit – and finally shook her head to clear the lusty turn her thoughts had suddenly taken.

  Emily’s m
agic crackled and sparked in an attempt to remind her of its existence.

  Ignoring it, she allowed an easy smile to slip onto her face.

  “Mr. Simons? Welcome, I trust you found my location without issue?” She gestured him into her house; the front room was a sitting room for clients – the coffee table was already prepared with swatches, sketches and inspirational pictures that she pulled out for the meeting.

  “Please, call me Sean,” he corrected. The smooth baritone wrapped around Emily like a silk scarf, extravagant and indulgent; she could melt into his voice.

  Get a grip, she reminded herself. This was business, there was no time for entertaining any ideas about Sean. Though there was something oddly familiar about him. Maybe he had given an interview once upon a time?

  “Emily,” she offered her hand.

  He didn’t take it, he nodded in the direction of the display she’d created.

  “Is all of this for me?”

  She nodded. Right to business, of course. She shouldn’t have expected a man with his responsibilities to waste his time with pleasantries. She was surprised that he was doing this much on his own. In disbelief really.

  She’d managed to convince herself it was all a prank and then this gorgeous man showed up at her doorstep and now she was at a loss.

  “Yes, your email didn’t give me much to go on, so I pulled some inspiration to see what you may be interested in.”

  His eyes never addressed her hard work. They never moved from her. His gaze felt like a physical weight on her. She squirmed and felt heat rush to her face – how could a simple look from the man make her feel so exposed?

  “I appreciate the effort, but I trust you to do whatever you see fit.”

  “I… I’m sorry?” Emily asked, suddenly confused. If he was going to give her carte blanche, why waste her time with a consultation?

  He smiled and seated himself without waiting for her to offer.

  “I’ve admired your portfolio for some time, Emily,” her name coming from his lips sent shivers down her spine.

  “You have?” she stammered, feeling frozen in place. She found the whole situation difficult to believe.

  “Yes, I have. Well, to be more to the point, I’ve admired you.”