Werewolf in Las Vegas (27 page)

“Ask her.”

Giselle was dying to know what Mr. Thatcher was saying to Luke. But instead of meandering and using her sharp hearing to eavesdrop, she walked briskly down the hallway to the locker room. Her footsteps echoed on the wooden floor, which helped to block out their conversation.

Luke and the butler had a long-standing relationship that had suffered a major shock. Discovering she was a werewolf had obviously been difficult for Luke to accept, but adjusting to Mr. Thatcher's new identity could be even tougher. She had no right to intrude on their discussion.

When she walked through the door at the end of the hallway and entered the locker room designed for Weres to store their clothes, Luke and Mr. Thatcher were still in the bar. Benedict, Bryce, and Cynthia stood waiting for her at the opposite end of the locker room, at the entrance to the playground.

“We wondered if you'd ever get here,” Cynthia said. “Of course you've seen it before, but my brother hasn't. I'd think he'd be dying of curiosity. Where is he?”

“He and Mr. Thatcher are having a talk.”

“Oh.” Cynthia glanced at Giselle. “Partly about you, I'll bet.”

“I don't know. Maybe.”

“You should have hung back to listen. I would've.”

“Hey!” Bryce pretended to be shocked. “Don't forget I have to vouch for your sterling character, missy. Don't be announcing to me that you're a habitual eavesdropper.”

Cynthia shrugged. “I'm a little sister. We survive by eavesdropping. Am I right, Giselle?”

“You're right, but in this case, it felt wrong. What do you think they might be saying about me?”

Bryce traded glances with Cynthia before he faced Giselle. “Probably the same thing Cynthia and I talked about while we were activating the systems. I filled her in on the new trend of Weres mating with humans.”

“Yeah, and I think that's awesome.” Cynthia's blue eyes sparkled. “You and Luke should totally do that. I've never seen him so crazy in love. So unless you hate his guts, you two should—”

“I don't hate his guts.” Giselle had to smile at that. “The opposite, in fact.”

“You love his guts?” Cynthia laughed. “Don't mind me. I get like this sometimes.”

Bryce laughed. “Sometimes? How about twenty-four-seven?”

“All right, so I'm a nutcase.” Cynthia rolled her eyes. “But seriously, Bryce and I think you and Luke are perfect for each other, and we should know. I'm Luke's sister and Bryce is your brother. We know you two better than anybody.”

Giselle was impressed with the logic of that statement. It was absolutely true that Bryce knew her better than anyone, and so far he hadn't given a thumbs-up to any of the werewolves she'd dated. “But Luke is happy here,” she said. “I don't want to uproot—”

“He's not happy!” Cynthia blew out a breath. “He's a damned martyr. Hooking up with you would be so good for him. He needs to learn to delegate instead of carrying the whole shebang on his admittedly broad shoulders. He could even delegate to
me.
”

“I thought you wanted to dance.”

“I do, and I will, but I can multitask. I wish you would take my brother up to San Francisco and make an honest man of him, Giselle. He can still be CEO down here if that floats his boat, but I favor an absentee executive, if you get my drift. Eventually I'll be running this company, anyway, so he can gradually get used to that.”

Giselle couldn't help smiling at the audacity of this twenty-two-year-old woman. “I believe you will be the CEO one day. But what about Luke? What's he destined to do with his life if you take over Dalton Industries?”

“I see him turning into a country gentleman, maybe buying a winery in Napa. Admitting he's not the Type A he's trying to be here in Vegas. And being blissfully content with you in that lovely pastoral setting.”

“Really?” Giselle stared at her. “I thought he liked the hustle and bustle.”

“He thinks he should because our dad did. In case you haven't noticed, he's been trying very hard to be Angus Dalton 2.0.”

Giselle burst out laughing. She was still laughing when Luke and Mr. Thatcher came into the locker room.

Luke gazed at her. “What's so funny?”

“Your sister. She cracks me up.”

“Glad to hear it. Maybe she wants to do standup comedy instead of dancing with the Moonbeams.”

“You just gave me an idea, brother of mine.” Cynthia executed a quick little soft-shoe. “A dancing standup comic. I'm going to work on that.”

“I'll buy a ticket,” Giselle said.

“There you go.” Cynthia shot her a look of solidarity. “I have my first member of the audience.”

“You'll fill the seats,” Bryce said.

“I'll second that,” Benedict said with a grin. “Guaranteed. But how about we take a stroll through the playground, now that everyone's here?”

Giselle nodded. “Let's do that.” Her heart felt lighter knowing that Bryce and Cynthia believed in a happy-ever-after for her and Luke. But they could believe that till the cows came home, and if Luke didn't want anything to do with werewolves, she would lose him.

If so, she would let him go easily, without drama. He would never know that her heart would be permanently broken. Cynthia and Bryce had only confirmed what she already knew—Luke was her soul mate. No other would do for her.

Bryce and Cynthia went through the swinging door, designed so that a wolf could open it without difficulty. Mr. Thatcher gestured for Giselle to go next, but she hung back.

“After you, Mr. Thatcher. Luke and I will bring up the rear.” She didn't know if he wanted to walk with her or not, but they'd had so little time to speak privately since she'd shifted into wolf form. They should give themselves a chance to talk, however it turned out.

“Good idea,” Luke said. Before they went through the door, he took her hand again.

She considered that a positive sign. He'd had a lot to assimilate in a short time, but obviously he wasn't ready to give her the old heave-ho, or he wouldn't have laced his fingers so securely through hers.

They stepped through the door onto an overlook, and his fingers flexed. She wasn't surprised that he'd react that way. The view was breathtaking, especially considering they were underground.

Cool, pine-scented air wafted up to them, along with the sound of rushing water and the hoot of an owl. A full moon shone intermittently though clouds scudding across a starry sky. Through the artistry of the playground's creators, they stood on the edge of a canyon high in the Rocky Mountains on a moonlit night.

“I'm heading down,” Benedict said. “Watch your step. This place was designed for werewolves, who have excellent night vision. But if you walk carefully, you should be fine. The path is wide enough for two creatures, either Were or human.”

Giselle took a deep breath, drawing in the wonder of the place, the same wonder she'd felt when she'd come here years ago. In the midst of a city teeming with noise, lights, and crowds, this retreat existed for the Weres who longed for an escape into a serene forest. The playground was an engineering marvel and a sanctuary for those of a different species. No wonder werewolves everywhere had mourned its loss when a human had gained possession of their special place.

“I can't believe this,” Luke murmured. “I can hear crickets.”

“Werewolf scientists collaborated to make it as authentic as possible, given the technology at the time. It's updated whenever new designs become available. As we walk along, you'll hear rustling in the leaves to simulate the movement of night creatures like raccoons and skunks.”

“How about animatronics? Any fake birds or animals here?”

“As I understand it, the builders decided that would be an insult to visitors. Our sense of smell would tell us immediately the creatures weren't real. The sounds provide a more convincing illusion.”

“Makes sense, now that I know more.” He glanced at the winding path. The others were already several yards in front of them. “Want to take a walk in the woods?”

“I'd love to.”

Luke started down the incline at a leisurely pace. “I like that we don't have to worry about snakes.”

“They say Harrison Cartwright wanted to create a place where the participants didn't have to worry about anything and could simply enjoy the ambience. It's an anxiety-free zone, and werewolves don't have many of those.”

“Are Cynthia and I the first humans to see it?”

“I can't say for sure. I'd love to tell you that's true, because it would make this moment even more special, but I doubt you're the first humans in here. Aidan and Roarke Wallace of the Wallace pack each have human mates, and I have to believe at least one of those couples has been here on vacation.”

“Is their father the one who's president of your council?”

“He is.” She brushed past a pine branch that extended into the path. “Did Mr. Thatcher mention him?” Her stomach tightened. This anxiety-free zone no longer was. Now they would talk about the central issue between them, the one that could bring them together or tear them apart.

“He did mention the guy, and the situation with his two sons. I . . . was startled to find out that werewolves and humans were . . .”

“Mating?”

“Yes.” He pulled her to a stop on the path, a place shadowed by tall pines. Their needles carpeted the ground, and a stream flowed nearby, its rippling music adding to the sense of being deep in the midst of a wilderness. “How do you feel about that?”

So it was out on the table, the question that had plagued her ever since she'd fallen in love with him. Her answer had been easy in the beginning. Because he hadn't known that werewolves existed, she'd vowed to keep that knowledge from him so that he'd never have to make such a painful choice.

She faced him. “I'll tell you the truth.”

“I hope so.” His eyes flashed in the semidarkness. “I expect no less from you, Giselle.”

“I've never lied to you.”

He was quiet for a moment. “I guess not. You just didn't tell me everything. Now I want to know it all, beginning with how you stand on this mating business.”

“I've always been firmly opposed to it.”

He exhaled. “Then why did you tell me? Why did you make it seem as if you wanted to be with me, no matter what the difficulties might be? I don't—”

“I was against it until I met you.”

The silence stretched between them. Finally he spoke, his voice strained. “And now?”

The dam broke and her tears flowed. “Oh, Luke, I've tried to give you up, but every time I think of living without you, it's as if this big black hole is swallowing me, and I can't . . . I can't . . .”

“Me, either,” he said softly. “Me, either, my love.” And he pulled her close, tucked her head under his chin, and rocked her back and forth as she cried.

“But I'm asking you to change
everything.
”

He chuckled. “Everything changed the minute you walked into my office demanding to know what information I had on our rebellious siblings. I haven't been the same since.”

“But I'm a
werewolf
, Luke. That means if we have offspring they could be human or Were. Can you live with that?”

Now he was totally confused. “I thought you couldn't have kids.”

“I can have them. I just can't get pregnant until I'm mated to someone. It's a Were thing. But you and I could have offspring. They'd just be . . . mixed. Could you deal with that?”

He hesitated for a brief second.

“Look, if you can't, I respect that, Luke. I completely understand.”

“Hang on, Giselle. I can absolutely deal with that. It's a startling concept, especially after I'd thought you couldn't have kids, but the one thing I can't live with is being separated from you. So there you have it.”

“You'll have time to think about these things. I'm not demanding your answer now.” She was determined to get everything out in the open. “Here's another issue. I'll want to shift now and then and run through the woods. Will that gross you out when I do it?”

“Nope. I'm sort of jealous, if you must know. And by the way, demonstrating that ability was the gutsiest thing I've ever seen in my life.” He kissed the top of her head. “What if I'd freaked out and called 911? What if I'd tried to kill you?”

“I trusted you. I knew you wouldn't harm me.”

“Exactly.” He pulled her closer. “Just as I trust you and know you'd never harm me, either. I can't imagine what mating with a werewolf means really, but if the alternative is giving you up forever, the choice is ridiculously easy.”

She hugged him tight. “Mating with me means you won't have to be locked inside that resort-style prison.”

“That's good to know. I wasn't too pleased with that scenario.”

“And Cynthia will have privileged status as your sister, so unless she starts acting crazy, as if she's about to broadcast our presence to the world, she'll have complete freedom of movement.”

His muscles relaxed, and he sighed. “Good. That's so good. I can be very happy knowing that my sister will be okay.”

“She'll be okay whether we mate or not.” Giselle lifted her head to gaze up at him. “Don't make that the deciding factor, Luke. No matter what happens between us, I will fight for Cynthia with all I have. So will Bryce. So will Mr. Thatcher. She has champions among us. She's well protected.”

The shadows hid his expression, but his warmth radiated around her. “You
would
fight for her, wouldn't you?”

“Damn straight I would. I'm loyal to you, and that means I'm loyal to your sister. Werewolves have a very strong sense of family. Besides, she's a kick. I really like her.”