Page 11 of Arctic Panda's Secret Mate
Maybe they’d come in soaking wet from the snow and undressed right there. Why they wouldn’t take their clothing back to their room and change there was beyond Haisley, but she chalked it up to wealthy idiosyncrasies and had to remind herself not to fold them. She couldn’t quite resist tidying the stand of local brochures. Would anyone notice if she put a few back in the right place? Probably not. It certainly didn’t bother them to leave their personal belongings strewn about.
Haisley was halfway through straightening the sheep in the nativity scene when a movement in front of the fire made her freeze in terror.
A long, fluffy tail rose into the air and resettled.
What Haisley had taken for only cushions, pillows, and maybe a fur coat in the darkness was actually the two leopards she’d seen earlier, snuggled together before the fire in a fluffy bower.
Haisley’s immediate stab of fright transformed to outrage almost at once.
They were letting these wild animals wander the lodge freely? They’d clearly pulled the pillows and couch cushions off, and probably clawed them up doing so. Would they pee in the corners, too? Or did they bring giant kitty litter boxes with them?
The logistics of traveling with big cats boggled themind. Did they have to travel by crate on the airlines? Was it possible to pass them off as dogs? Maybe they were professional leopardsmugglers, and this was how they made their money. Should she turn them in? Make a clandestine call to the authorities? Was there an anonymous tip line for illegal exotic pets?
Haisley didn’t really want to turn them in. They seemed like nice people, and no one liked a snitch. The leopards were clearly well-cared for, not locked in tiny cages or starved.
They were also wild animals who would probably be happy to eat Haisley, whether she reported their owners or not.
Haisley crept backwards out the way she’d come in, knocking into a chair that someone had moved from its designated position. There was the slightest tail switch, but the creatures didn’t leap after her with flashing teeth and sharp claws the way she half-expected.
She scurried back to her room and shut the door behind her, locking it decisively. After a few moments of breathing hard, she remembered the other thing that she wanted to do and she very carefully opened it again. “Nice kitties,” she whispered.
Nothing responded. It was as quiet as ever.
Haisley gathered up her winter wear and put it on before she opened the door again and crept out the back kitchen door.
It was snowing furiously outside, and dark, but Haisley knew her way unerringly along the snow-clogged path to the garage. She paused at the side door, and it opened almost without effort. The carving tools she had half-remembered were waiting on the workbench where she was sure she had never seen them before.
“Thank you,” she murmured.
The set fit poorly in her parka pocket, so Haisley held it in place as she hurried back to the chalet. Most of the windows above her were dark, but there were a few squares of warm light cast on the blue snow.
She brushed as much of the snow off as she could without stomping her feet at the back entrance and stared around as she came down the hallway to the dining room. Where could she leave the tools that they wouldn’t be overlooked, but no one would question why they hadn’t been noticed before? She could be completely obvious and leave them on Tristan’s leftovers, but that might raise some serious questions.
He’d set the table the night before…could she assume that he would again?
Haisley crept into the dining room, listening for any sounds from the great room that might indicate that wild cats were on the prowl, and went to the sideboard. Her note on the sideboard was gone, and the drawer opened effortlessly.
He’d fixed it!
Her estimation of Quiet Vegetarian Guy Tristan went up another notch.
Haisley silently opened and closed the drawer a few times just for the sheer pleasure of it, then put the tool kit just beneath the placemats. It looked like a rolled-up napkin, so she unwrapped it just enough that the first chisel was visible, arranging the placemats to look naturally mussed.
The plan was that he would think he just hadn’t noticed it the night before. There were a few other miscellaneous tools and napkin rings in the drawer, so it didn’t look entirely out of place, Haisley hoped.
Then she slunk back to her room and locked the door, satisfied that she’d accomplished all of her goals.
11
TRISTAN
Tristan woke early, in an unfamiliar bed.
Unfamiliar, maybe, but definitelycomfortable.
He stretched, reaching edge to edge, and was barely able to dangle his fingers off each side. He had thought that Shifting Sands Resort was the pinnacle of luxury, but the sheets here had an even higher thread count, and there was something decidedly cozier about sleeping in a cool room with a down quilt that was both thick and utterly weightless.
The bed had a dozen pillows, though half of them had been scattered to the floor while he slept. When he threw off the blanket, he realized that the quilt was also much warmer than he’d realized, and he nearly crawled back under.
