Iona disengaged her hand. “No thanks,” she said, as politely as she could. “I’m tired, and I need to look in on some work. You all have fun.”
They protested and cajoled, but in the end, they gave up. Iona was a pathetic workaholic, in their opinions, but they laughed when they said it. Iona gave the bouquet to the care of her mother, walked away from the celebration, got into her red pickup, and drove to the office.
The gate at the site was locked, but Iona had the keys with her. She unlocked the padlock, being careful about keeping dirt and grease off her pretty satin gown. She drove the truck through the gate, parked, and went back to lock the gate after herself.
The sun had gone, but floodlights lit the back of the site to prevent theft of costly equipment and supplies. The trailer office was dark and looked deserted, but Eric’s motorcycle was parked behind it.
Iona’s heart beat faster as she climbed the steps and opened the door.
Eric looked up from her desk. He’d taken off his coat and hung it on the chair and rolled up his sleeves, baring sinewy forearms. Iona drank in his male scent, fresh like the night.
The blueprints for the new Shifter houses were spread over the desk in front of him. The lack of light didn’t seem to bother him, but Eric was Shifter. He’d be able to see well in the dark.
He got up and came to Iona as she shut the door. Without speaking, Eric put callused hands on her elbows and ran his hands up her bare arms.
The itchiness eased, but a new hunger flared. Eric gathered her to him, tilted her head back, and kissed her. His tongue chased hers, his lips slow, savoring. The frenzy of last night was still there, but not quite the same. Iona tasted something a little different in him, though she wasn’t sure what.
Eric pressed his thumbs to the corners of her mouth, opening her to him. This kiss was warm, loving, taking its time. The Shifter called Ross must have kissed her mother like this—leisurely, confident, knowing he’d wooed a woman to him against her better judgment.
When Eric eased the kiss to its end, Iona nestled against his shirt, closing her eyes to hear the rapid beating of his heart.
“Why were you at the wedding?” she asked. “Someone might have seen you.”
“I didn’t want to miss a family ritual so important to you,” he answered, voice rumbling beneath her ear.
Why did that idea please her so much? “I’m happy for Nicole. Sad for me.”
“I know, sweetheart.” Eric smoothed her hair. “Humans make weddings about families going their separate ways. Shifter weddings are about drawing new family in.”
Drawing family in. That sounded so nice. Throughout Nicole’s childhood, Iona had protected her little sister as much as Nicole had protected her. Saying good-bye to Nicole tonight had been hard. No, not hard. Impossible.
But Nicole would be back, and Iona would surprise her with her remodeled house, and they’d visit each other all the time. All was not lost.
Right now, though, the good-bye felt like finality.
She drew back from Eric, liking the comfort of him too much. “How did you get in here? Everything’s locked up tight.”
“Because I’m good, sweetheart. Let me show you what I want you to do with the plans.”
He led her by the hand to the desk and turned on the light—for her benefit—and spread out the blueprints.
The houses the architect had designed were simple, nothing complex for Shifters. The basic house was a long rectangle, with a living room and kitchen taking up one end, and a hall leading to three bedrooms taking up the other. A bathroom nestled between bedrooms one and two. That was it.
“Simple is good,” Eric said. “We can do false walls in two of these closets that will open to steps down to the underground rooms.”
“Underground rooms? What underground rooms?”
Eric smiled up at her, his flash of teeth predatory. “That’s where the real Shifter houses are. Downstairs. We like burrows. Especially the bears. Sometimes, in deep winter, getting Shane and Brody to come out is a hell of a job.”
Iona didn’t laugh. “I’ve never heard of this.”
“It’s not something Shifters share. That’s why you tell no one.” He pinned her with a stare.
“Not tell my crew why they’re digging the foundation so deep? They’re not stupid or blind.”
“Shifters will do that work,” Eric said. “We’ll cover it up. We’ve done this before. Your job is to get an altered set of plans into the hands of your head builder and make him think there’s nothing wrong.”
He looked up at her, his eyes warming. Iona realized that she leaned over him, her bare arms and half-bare br**sts about an inch from his face. Eric didn’t bother pretending not to look, his gaze sinful.
Iona stood up and rubbed her arms, the itch returning. “That’s all? Give him altered plans and make him think there’s nothing wrong with them?”
“I have Shifters who can redraw them for you. They’ll look legit. And the original, real plans will stay with the human committee and be public record.”
“The guys we hire aren’t stupid,” Iona said. “They’ll know something’s wrong.”
“Be persuasive. And their bank accounts will have some nice bonuses in them, far more money than the humans will pay.”
Iona thought about her foreman, who’d worked in Las Vegas, a city once run by criminal families, his entire life. If people wanted hidden rooms in their houses or hotels, he probably wouldn’t blink, nor would he bother to tell anyone about the sudden influx of money to his checking account.