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A Hunter Under The Mistletoe: All Is Bright / Heat of a Helios

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Год написания книги
2019
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She’d been unable to move, shocked when the flames that had warmed her all over suddenly vanished as if they’d never been, the air and grounds once again still. It was only once she’d moved closer to the sight of the blaze, the grass untouched and still cooled by the night air, that she’d run for help.

Security had come with her to the site, then reassured her over and over there wasn’t anything wrong. It had only been her insistence to watch the security feed that had finally sent her home in a puzzled haze.

Mac, the lead on duty, had replayed the tapes of that quadrant of the grounds. She’d watched herself come around the corner. Had even seen the look of shock paint her face. But when she stared at the space where the burning man should be, the grounds looked as calm and peaceful as a baby sleeping.

But damn it, she’d seen him. His long, powerful form had been consumed by the fire, and the wall of heat shot off by the flames had felt like the combined power of ten furnaces. She’d never felt anything like it.

How could something so strong and powerful remain so contained? How hadn’t it spread? And why the hell wasn’t it showing up on the security cameras or in the spot where the fire had been?

“Miss Kennedy.” The office admin nodded to her. “They will see you now.”

Evangeline smiled at the woman, a perfect complement to the powerful outer office she found herself in. Thick, plush carpet muffled the noise of her steps and a soft, gentle hum of elegance pervaded the air.

Had she ever looked that perfect? From the artful makeup, to the stylish hair, to the trim jacket that stopped at the woman’s hips, the admin to the great and powerful Stavros family was perfection and grace personified.

“Thank you.” Evangeline scrambled to her feet, inwardly acknowledging that, no, she’d never managed that look. She was a woman who preferred dirt to pearls and comfortable, baggy cargo pants to a skirt any day. The outfit she’d managed for her meeting—a plum silk shirt and a trim pair of black slacks—was about as dressy as she got.

“Thank you for the tree.” The woman pointed toward the towering pine in the corner of the office, immaculately decorated in a wash of red and white. “I understand you managed the decorations throughout the property. They’re way better than what we had last year.”

The primary reason she’d snagged the job, but Evangeline didn’t say anything. Instead, she nodded. “Thank you. I have a supplier I’ve used for several years. His trees are the best.”

“No arguments here.” The admin held open the door to the inner sanctum of the Archangel’s brass, a secretive smile playing about her lips. “Knock ’em dead.”

Before Evangeline could attempt to respond, she was through the door, staring down the two brothers who ran the Archangel.

She’d met them before, of course, and had seen them around the grounds, but the wall of masculinity that greeted her was something to behold. Gabriel and Rafael Stavros, sons of powerful casino mogul Michael Stavros, were an impressive sight. Dubbed The Archangels by the press, they were as easily found in the business news as the gossip pages.

In fact, Evangeline amended to herself, their bachelor status ensured they occupied those gossip pages with shocking regularity.

She thought them both attractive—and had yet to meet a woman on staff who didn’t—but something about Rafael Stavros had always drawn her more intensely than his brother. With the dark hair that shagged a bit too long around his neck and the piercing gray eyes that always reminded her of a winter storm, he was a study in contrasts.

Delicious contrasts, the small voice in her head that kept her perpetual company whispered.

Shaking off the fanciful that had no place in a business meeting, she shifted her portfolio to her other hand and shook the outstretched palms before her. After the standard pleasantries, it was Rafe who spoke first. “It’s lovely to see you again, Evangeline.”

“You, as well.”

“Gabe and I took a look at the installation at the infinity pool this morning. It’s good work.”

“Thank you.”

The gray eyes that had occupied more than a few of her fantasies hardened. “Work you did yourself, I understand?”

“It’s nothing I—”

“It’s good work.” Gabe spoke over Evangeline, stilling any further comment. “And as I understand it, we’re well rid of the two men on your team.”

The focus on two employees who shouldn’t have mattered a whit to either man was a surprise and she tried to remember there was little that happened in their casino either of them missed. “I spoke to Human Resources immediately after it happened, Mr. Stavros. Troy and Victor were escorted from the property, their photos circulated in Security immediately.”

“Which is how I found out about it so quickly.” Gabe’s eyes twinkled, his smile broad and far more inviting than his brother’s.

So why did her gaze keep darting to Rafe?

“Why don’t I leave you two to the discussion at hand and I’ll go make sure those photos have, in fact, been circulated to the staff.” Gabe leaned in and pressed a quick kiss on her cheek. “Enjoy your meeting, Evangeline.”

A small frown lit Rafe’s face and she scrambled to understand why he’d be upset. Troy and Victor were her responsibility and she could dismiss a member of her team for infractions.

“I apologize if I overstepped with the employees. I caught them—”

Rafe stepped forward, his large form seemingly even larger in the fitted cut of his black suit. “You think I’m mad about that?”

“You don’t seem happy.”

“You were forced to finish the infinity pool installation all on your own.”

“It was fine. It’s my job.”

“I don’t expect you to work at three in the morning.”

“But that’s what was required to—”

Once again, he cut her off, his frown carving deeper grooves in his cheeks. “It’s not required and it isn’t healthy.”

Although her role as lead of the horticultural program at the Archangel was the pinnacle of her career thus far, Evangeline had worked her way up to the position, taking jobs up and down the Strip since moving to Las Vegas shortly after college. She’d spent her career working long hours and had never once been reprimanded for it.

An image exploded in her thoughts—the burning man on the grounds. She’d briefly forgotten him in the tempting testosterone of the Stavros brothers but the strong memory hadn’t lain dormant for long.

Did Rafe know? Was that why he didn’t want her working late? Curious, she pressed him. “I’m perfectly capable of seeing to my responsibilities.”

“Your responsibilities don’t require you to keep a schedule of eighteen straight hours of manual labor. It’s neither healthy nor good for you.”

“I manage just fine.”

“It’s dangerous work if you’re tired.”

“Yes, well the holiday season comes once a year and leaving beds of empty dirt all over the property where plants should be is hardly festive. I’m not a slacker like your former horticulture lead and I’d think you would appreciate the effort.”

“It’s not a matter of appreciation.”

“So maybe you should say thank you and we can move on.” Evangeline waited for the inevitable result of her bold words—narrowed eyes and a small layer of shock at her frankness—before she pressed her advantage. “Or perhaps you’d like to tell me why there was a burning man on the property at three o’clock this morning?”

Rafe had to give her credit—Evangeline Kennedy was crafty. Able-bodied and brassy, she’d come into the Archangel like a whirling dervish and almost eleven months later hadn’t slowed down. She fascinated him, with her long, coltish gait and thick, curly hair that was perpetually piled atop her head.

But it was her eyes. A rich brown the color of the finest dark chocolate. Every time he looked at her, he could swear she saw him to the very depths of his soul.

She had old eyes. Ancient eyes. Just like the curse he bore upon his body as surely as it was the greatest gift he possessed.

She’d intrigued him immediately, the woman who’d stood on his property, giving hell to the former horticulture expert they’d had on staff. Although Don Casey had a strong reputation throughout Las Vegas, Rafe and Gabe had soon discovered the man’s penchant for the bottle had dulled his artistic sensibilities to be virtually nonexistent. He’d been on the hunt for someone new when Evangeline took matters into her own hands.
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