Page 26 of Into the Lion's Den (Secrets of the Northland Shifters)

“It’s not like I have much choice. We need to cut corners where we can. We’ll have to let the dining room hostess go. Some of the trail guides too.”

“I’m sure there’s a reasonable explanation for the money,” Toby said. “Dad would have told us if the resort was in trouble.”

I sat in my chair and placed my hands on the scattering of spreadsheets and invoices. “All I can tell you is that we need this summer to be a huge success. The best one ever. Starting with the fishing opener this weekend.”

“Well, that’s easy,” Sam said. “All of those guys have been coming here for over ten years. They don’t even care if the fish don’t bite, so long as they can drink with their buddies and show off their latest gadgets.”

I had to agree. I wasn’t that worried about the weekend. It was the rest of the season that was more of an unknown.

There was a knock and the door slowly opened. Sam turned and stepped to his side, giving me an unobstructed view of Sarah.

Just like always, she made both sides of my nature stand up and take notice. It was getting harder and harder to resist her—that lush mouth, silky hair, and those full breasts that begged to be touched.

And knowing she was also attracted to me made the situation that much worse. It didn’t help that all four of my siblings were now clued into it.

Why don’t you just sleep with her and get her out of your system?Fat chance. I was going to have to double my efforts to steer clear.

Sarah looked around the room, making eye contact with everyone before returning her focus to me.

My gut squeezed in response. What was it about those large gray eyes that did it to me every time?

“Sorry to interrupt,” she said, “but...”

“What is it?” I asked encouragingly. The quicker she said what she needed to say, the quicker she could leave.

“I thought you should know, we just had a room cancellation for the fishing opener.”

I felt the weight of my siblings’ eyes as they all swung back to gauge my reaction. I’d just finished telling them the resort needed its best season ever.

“One cancellation doesn’t mean anything,” Toby said.

Sarah glanced at Toby, then back to me. “Um...that was actually the third cancellation we got today. They all said they’d had a change of plans.”

I clenched my teeth. Northerners didn’t cancel on the fishing opener unless they were on death’s door—not after waiting all winter to get back into their boats.

And the resort’s wealthy clientele were fucking fanatics about their boats. They’d all be jonesing to show off their latest gadgets and technological advances. They wouldn’t just cancel. Something about this unprecedented development made the hair on my arms stand up.

Sam leaned forward and whispered, “Dude. Get your cat under control. Your eyes are glowing.”

But he needn’t have warned me about the lion under my skin. I could feel it. I looked down to shield my eyes from the one human in the room and retracted my claws before they shredded my chair’s leather armrests.

The lion snarled under the surface of my human facade. It scraped at the confines of my mind, clawing to get out.

11

SARAH

Two days later.

The guests for the fishing opener had all checked in and would soon be arriving in the dining room. I put the finishing touches on the last table, stepped back to admire my handiwork, and…winced.

Reese had warned me not to change anything, and the decorations I’d bought in town were probably ateensybit more cutesy than what Dorothy had done in the past. That is, if the old events coordinator had done any decorating at all.

But they did fit the resort’s rustic setting—not to mention the fishing-opener theme. So Reese was bound to approve, right?

Right?

I chewed on the edge of my thumbnail, second-guessing all my choices. I’d set up a brown wicker fishing basket at the entrance to the dining room to collect the tickets for the meat raffle. Yes, the resort was actually raffling offmeat. Apparently it was the highlight of the evening. I’d seen the gift-wrapped pork chops, brisket, and venison sausages with my own eyes that very morning. I’d decorated the wicker basket with a small chalkboard on which I’d written the wordsGone Fishing.

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