The Jaguar Tycoon: Tales of the Were (Howls Romance) Page 5

  “Ah. That explains the term werewolf, I guess.” She shook her head, barely believing she was having this conversation, but if Mark said it, she was pretty sure it was true. So far, he hadn’t lied to her in any way, and he had a reputation for being ruthlessly honest—a rarity among big businessmen.

  “I’m Alpha of the Jaguar Clan. Most of my brethren have the tawny spotted coloring you might be familiar with, but I’m one of the few black jaguars in our Clan. The spots are still there, just hard to see most of the time. Makes me an excellent night stalker.” He didn’t sound boastful, just stating facts. “Our origins are South America, so we have a slightly different style of government than some of the other big cat shifter species.”

  “There are others?” she whispered, sipping the excellent wine he’d brought to serve with lunch.

  “Many others. The lions have a king. The panthers have a queen they call the Nyx. The tigers have a white tiger as their king, whom they call the Tig’Ra. There are others, but those are the few who are active in this region and are business associates of mine. You might meet them at some point,” he added casually, as if her meeting shifter royalty was an everyday occurrence.

  “As…Alpha…are you on par with those others who call themselves kings and queens?” she dared to ask.

  He shrugged. “Probably. Like I said, we don’t use the same style of government as they do. Our lineage and rules of conduct go back to the Mayan culture. The panthers and tigers, at least, only trace their societal organization back to Renaissance Europe. I’m not sure about the lions. They had some catastrophe in Africa that led to an Irish-American off-shoot of the family taking over the whole shebang a few years ago. It’s all pretty complicated, and each of us tends to try to keep details of our affairs within our own Clans.” He tossed back the rest of the wine in his glass. “But, yeah, I lead all the jaguars. The ones that are left.” A sad expression passed over his handsome face. “There used to be a lot more of us, but now…” He sighed and shook his head, dispelling the sorrow that had come to him. “We’re rebuilding,” he stated firmly, his mood more positive. “Which is why I’m creating a special place just for the Clan. It’s what I’ve been working so hard to build. And I want you to help me make it a reality.”

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Mark reached into the pocket of his jacket and withdrew a folded piece of thick paper. He unfolded it, taking it to the empty dining room table a few feet away and laying it down flat. It was a map of some sort. She moved closer to get a better look.

  “It’s an island?” she asked, trying to read the complex topographical map for reference points she might recognize.

  He smiled at her, but his expression was tight, as if merely thinking about the scope of the project made him tense. His gaze poured over the map, though she could tell from the worn condition of the paper that he must have looked at it many times before.

  “I purchased the island some time ago, and I’ve been waiting…for something.” He looked up at her, pinning her with his intense gaze. “I believe now, I was waiting for you.”

  Of course, there was no way he could have known that he would meet her—an architect of all things—last night, but then again, stranger things had happened. And if the chance meeting had landed her a giant job that would be a pleasure to oversee, then her plan to attend last night’s dinner to trawl for clients had worked out for the best.

  “What sort of structures did you envision?” Her mind was jumping with ideas. The topography of the island would lend itself to several different schemes. She could see it already in her mind.

  “I want a central gathering place. A Clan hall where we can all get together. That would include a communal dining room, kitchen facilities, some kind of ballroom or great hall that could be used for multiple purposes. I’d also want guest quarters attached to the Clan hall itself so that any Clan member who didn’t have a permanent dwelling on the island would have a place to stay. A small clinic area to treat anyone who might get injured. We heal fast, but occasionally, we do get hurt bad enough to have to sit it out a few days under someone else’s care.” He smiled ruefully at that, but she could see he’d put a great deal of thought into this.

  He went on to outline more specifics about everything he wanted in that central structure. She was getting a very clear picture of what he envisioned, and ideas were beginning to percolate in her mind. She itched to set pencil to paper to begin sketching out some of her ideas, but that would have to wait until she knew a little more about the scope of the project. She had a feeling he had only just begun.

  “I want to take advantage of the wildness of the terrain as much as possible,” he went on to say. “We don’t want to tear up the jungle. We want to live in it peacefully. Part of it. Like our wilder halves. Which reminds me, you’ll have to take our special abilities into consideration in your designs. We’re fairly flexible and dexterous, but round door knobs are a no-no.” He grinned, and she had to chuckle.

  “Let me guess, you prefer the handle or push-bar style,” she ventured, earning an amused nod in response.

  “Come to the island with me tomorrow and find out,” he invited, smiling along with her, though she could tell his invitation was completely serious.

  “Uh…” She didn’t know him well enough to just go jetting off with him to some private island after only two encounters. Did she?

  “We can be there in a few hours. Take off early tomorrow morning. Breakfast on my plane and lunch by the ocean. Sound good?”

  “Um…” She shouldn’t agree to go anywhere with this man. Not so soon. Especially not when she knew he could turn into a wild beast at a moment’s notice. What if she got to this island of his only to find out she was the main course on the menu for his sharp-toothed Clan?

  “Come on,” he cajoled. “I guarantee your safety. Scout’s honor. And you can have your own guest room for the night. We’ll fly back day after tomorrow…unless I can convince you to stay longer?”

  She eyed him skeptically. “You were never a scout,” she accused gently. “And I thought you said there were no buildings on your island yet.”

  “I didn’t quite say that.” He shook his head. “I said I want you to design new buildings. There was a mansion of sorts on one side of the island when I bought it. We’ve been using the existing facilities, including the air strip and the docks, but the area I’m really interested in was considered too rugged by the human billionaire I bought the island from. He stuck to the sandy side where his mistresses could sun themselves on the beach. I’m more interested in the jungle part of the island—which is the majority of the acreage.”

  “Just how big is this island if it can support its own airport?” She was beginning to realize that Mark Pepard might just be even wealthier than she thought.

  “It’s not a full-fledged airport. Just a private air strip where we can land any craft in our fleet,” he said off-handedly.

  “Fleet?” She gulped her wine, not quite used to the kind of society circles Mark ran in.

  Oh, she’d been born to wealth, but her father had spent most of their money, and what little remained was tightly guarded. She’d made her own way, her family name gaining her entrée into society circles, but not the highest of the high—which was where people like Mark fit. Her dad had been rich. Mark was mega-rich. A whole different ball game.

  Dad had a plane. Mark had a fleet. Dad had a mansion in a good part of town. Mark had his own island with its own air strip and docks. Both rich to most people, but definitely playing in different leagues.

  “Many of my people fly. They all have planes. It’s not my fleet, per se. It’s the Clan’s,” he tried to explain.

  But if he was the grand pooh-bah of his Clan, then the fleet was under his direct control, wasn’t it? She thought maybe he was playing a semantics game, but she wasn’t going to be any ruder than she’d already been. She let it go. There were more important things to think about. His invitation being the main one.

  �
��I’m not sure I should just drop everything to take a vacation in the sun.” She tried to wriggle out of it politely, but Mark wasn’t giving up.

  “It’s not a vacation. You’ll be working. I’ll be putting you through your paces, showing you the rugged side of the island and where I want the Clan hall to be. I can get you most of the way in a four-wheel drive vehicle, but we’ll have to do a bit of trekking, as well. I hope you have a good pair of hiking boots. And you’ll need whatever supplies and equipment you usually use when doing a site visit. I’ll want you to take thorough notes so you’ll be prepared to dazzle us with a plan for the Clan hall when you get back.”

  He was quite the salesman, was Mark. She was already thinking through the motifs and styles she might employ in the kind of project he’d outlined. It sounded like a challenging job, which was her favorite kind. Her fingers were literally itching to grab a pencil and start sketching out rough ideas.

  Hmm. She realized she was already doomed. Mark had dangled just the right bait in front of her. Her work was her life, and she enjoyed it. The chance to design something so unique was a once-in-a-lifetime kind of commission. She’d be crazy to turn it down. And she knew already she’d regret it for the rest of her life if she said no.

  Despite her fears, she wanted to know more about Mark and his people. The feel of his fur under her fingers was a memory she kept going back to. The remembered tactile sensation went a long way toward convincing her that it was all real when doubt began to creep in. She hadn’t been dreaming. That memory was so real she could feel her fingers tingle in memory.

  The very idea that he’d been hiding this side of himself from the public all these years amazed her. He was often in the public eye, and his least activity was reported in the gossip columns and on the front pages of the society section. His business triumphs—of which there were many—were routinely celebrated on the business television channels, magazines and newspapers.

  How had he managed to keep such a big secret when he was under such close scrutiny? There was so much more to his operation—and his people—than met the eye. There had to be. No way could he keep a secret like that without the support of many others.

  She couldn’t help herself. She wanted to know more about them. She wanted to know more about him and how he fit into their secret society. She knew she didn’t fully grasp what the term Alpha meant. She sensed it was something very important—almost sacred, perhaps. Whatever the case, she wanted to know more. She wanted to understand where he came from and what he meant to his people.

  She wanted to see him shift into that amazing big cat again. She wanted to stroke his fur and hear him purr. She wanted…

  “So, you’ll come?”

  The rather loaded question broke into her innermost thoughts. She already knew what her answer would be. She couldn’t not go. She couldn’t give up this opportunity to learn more about him and his people and see them in their natural habitat. Or at least, the place they were actively making their own.

  She nodded, still feeling a bit shaky about the decision but willing to commit herself—at least to a visit to the island.

  “I’ll go, but just overnight. I just need to take some measurements and see the lay of the land in person before I can begin rough sketches.” That’s all she was going to do there, right?

  Yes, she promised herself. That was all. Work. Measure, take notes, observe. That’s all. No seducing the sexy boss. No sleeping with him. Not so soon, at least.

  She understood the dangerous tenor of her thoughts. She was thinking about sleeping with him. And she was acknowledging, at least in her own mind, that she would probably do so after some acceptable period of time had passed.

  Oh, boy. She wasn’t sure if she was more excited or appalled at her own thoughts.

  Mark was enchanted by everything about Shelly. The way she spoke. The way she moved. The bright intellect behind her elegant façade. She was every inch the lady, yet the way he caught her looking at him when she didn’t think he was watching made the inner predator in him purr in triumph. She was thinking about pouncing, and he was all for that idea.

  Of course, by human standards—the standards Shelly had been raised with—it was way too soon. Shifter culture was a bit more understanding of the needs of the flesh, and there weren’t the same stigmas attached to sex as in human culture. Of course, there was also the mate imperative that said, when a shifter was blessed enough to find their one true mate, then they were completely unaffected by any other being.

  Single cats liked to roam. That was for sure. But once a feline shifter had found their match, they settled down into a devoted relationship for the rest of their life. It was a dream to strive for. Something everyone wanted to find but wasn’t really guaranteed to get.

  That Mark had found Shelly—at long last—was a blessing he wasn’t about to let get away. He would court her in whatever way she needed. He would give her time to come to him, if necessary, but he wouldn’t leave her alone. Never that. No, now that he’d found her, he’d insinuate himself into her life and her work. He’d be always underfoot until, at some point, he won her over completely.

  Failure was not an option.

  “I’m going to put extra security around your house tonight.” He tried to phrase it as diplomatically as possible, but he knew he was being very Alpha with her at the moment.

  She’d have to get used to it eventually, because he was the jaguar Alpha, after all. But he was going to try his best to remember she was human and go as slowly as he could. This was a first test to see how she would react.

  “Do you think that’s really necessary?” She didn’t sound pissed, which was a good sign. Her tone indicated a bit of annoyance shaded with concern. Good.

  “I always hope for the best but prepare for the worst. I believe you got away clean—except for that little encounter in the elevator—but I’ve learned it’s best not to take chances.” And that went double for his mate, though she wasn’t quite aware of her special status yet. “Don’t worry. You won’t see them unless there’s a problem. You live far enough back in the woods, and have a large enough property, to easily conceal the people charged with your safety.”

  “Just how many people are we talking about?” Now, her tone had echoes of challenge. He liked that spirit.

  “More than one,” he admitted with a grin he hoped would calm her.

  “And less than?” she prompted, clearly waiting for his response.

  “Less than an army?” he asked, enjoying the banter. She was quick, was his mate. That was good. As a cat, he liked games of any kind, and she was a quick-witted player, which was perfect for him.

  “Surely, you can be a little more specific than that.” Her gaze danced with lights of amusement, even as she continued to challenge him.

  “Less than twenty?” he tried.

  She looked appalled. “Twenty? That really is an army.”

  He gave a long-suffering sigh and pretended to give in. “I can do ten, if that works better for you, but I don’t like it.” He shook his head comically, making a tsk-ing sound.

  “I don’t see how ten men are going to blend into the little strip of woodlands surrounding my house. The trees aren’t that dense.” Now, she just sounded puzzled.

  “Oh, querida, you’re not seeing the bigger picture. We’re cats. We slink. And we can shapeshift. Not everyone will be walking on two feet.” He smiled as her eyes widened in surprise.

  “Jaguars?” Her voice rose in astonishment. “You intend to let your people wander round Westchester County as jaguars? Someone’s bound to see one of them and call animal control or the humane society or PETA, for goodness sake!”

  He laughed outright at her increasing concern. “Calm yourself,” he told her gently. “We’re professionals. We do this all the time.”

  “We?” Her gaze pinned him. “You mean you put yourself at risk along with your men?”

  He suspected the look in her eyes was measuring him in some way. She didn’t
seem upset with the idea, more curious.

  “I lead from the front,” he told her. “As Alpha, I would never ask any of my people to do something I wasn’t willing to do myself.”

  “A noble philosophy,” she complimented him with a slight nod of her head. “But seriously, you’re not going to be prowling around outside my house all night, are you?” She smiled and shook her head. “I don’t honestly think I could sleep knowing you were out there.”

  He moved closer, seeing an opening he’d be a fool not to take. “Well, I could always stay inside and protect you up close and personal.” He reached out, stroking her hair away from her face with the lightest of touches.

  He felt satisfaction run through him when she shivered in response. She was very sensitive to his touch. That would be utterly delightful to explore in detail…later. First, he had to get her more used to him.

  He didn’t honestly think she’d agree to sleep with him on such short acquaintance. Not his Shelly. Fiercely independent. Stubbornly rigid in some ways, he’d been surprised to discover. And all too human, with human sensibilities about such things.

  She was what they called a good girl. She didn’t sleep around. In fact, the in-depth background check Nick had run on her hadn’t found a recent boyfriend in the picture at all. Not for several years.

  Something about that both concerned him and made his inner cat want to growl in triumph. She would be his. She just didn’t know it yet.

  “You could always invite me in,” he told her in a low purr that wasn’t completely controllable. She affected him deeply.

  She laughed. It was a blow to his pride, but a gentle one. She seemed to think he was joking. He wasn’t, but she didn’t know his moods yet. In time, she would learn. As he would learn all about her. He couldn’t wait.

  Mark leaned back casually, as if she hadn’t just rejected his overture. He’d be a cool cat from here on out, if that’s what she needed. He wasn’t good at patience, but for her, he’d cultivate some.