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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.
Presumably visiting the property one evening on a stroll down the Strip, she’d seen Don butchering an installation, designed to look like a heard of African elephants marching in a row through the lobby. She’d berated Don, then ripped several tools from his grip. Evangeline was on her knees, patting a thick hoof into place in the lobby when Rafe had come upon her.
Gabe had quickly ushered Don away, saving what small amount of pride the man had left, leaving Rafe to deal with the dirt-stained harpy in his lobby. He’d nearly yelled right back at her until he saw the small, frustrated tears that filled the corners of her eyes.
And damn it to hell, if she hadn’t caught him by the balls in that moment, and all the moments since.
“I’m waiting, Mr. Stavros.”
Images of those big brown eyes, swimming with the lightest sheen of tears, faded in the face of those same eyes, alight in banked fury. “What are you talking about? If anything was burning on my property beyond the couples on the dance floor at Spark, I’d know about it.”
“Last night. The property outside the greenhouse. I saw a man burning.”
“Impossible.”
Rafe knew just how possible it was, but he held his ground, unwilling to break his gaze. “I am aware of all incidents that happen on property and nothing burned last night.”
“Then explain to me what I saw.”
Rafe folded his hands behind his back and stared down at her. He only had a slight height advantage and estimated her around five-nine or -ten to his six-two. “A late-night hallucination after pushing yourself for eighteen hours?”
“I know what I saw.”
“And I know what goes on here at the Archangel. We had no fire last night.”
The slightest tilt of her head was the only sign she mulishly didn’t believe him, but she was all business when she next spoke. “I brought the designs you requested.”
“Let’s get to them.” He gestured her to a seat at the long conference table that dominated the far wall of his office.
In moments, he had visions of a forest glade rising in his mind, scattered with wood nymphs, centaurs and sprites as she walked him through her designs. “You want an evil queen, too?”
“She has to be there.” Evangeline tapped on the edge of the layout, the paper equivalent of the west side of his lobby. “It’s an enchanted forest, drawing the guest from an inviting jaunt past the fairy glade farther and deeper into the installation. Once they realize they’re in the queen’s clutches, it’s too late to turn back.”
“And you can do this in a week?”
“With your approval my team will start construction of the basics this week. We’ll create the forms off-site and bring them in for the final installation just after the New Year.”
“No rest through Christmas?”
He wasn’t sure why it bothered him so much, the idea that she took no time for herself. He was no stranger to work, the casino business a twenty-four-hour-a-day job.
“I wasn’t aware the casino closed during the holidays. And I’ve made provisions in the timing to accommodate everyone’s reduced vacation schedules.”
“And what about you?” He laid a hand over hers. “Will you be taking some vacation?”
Her hand stiffened beneath his, but Rafe was intrigued to see she didn’t remove it. “I have no need of vacation time now.”
“Nor have you taken any since joining the Archangel?”
She slipped her hand from his, folding the large architectural rendering into a roll. “What’s this sudden interest in the hours I work?”
“I’m a concerned employer. All work and no play makes one dull and uninteresting.”
A small smile tugged the corner of her lips. “I spend my days doing what I love. Vacation is unnecessary.”
Rafe stilled, the security review he’d conducted at five that morning—post-recovery—filling his thoughts. “I love what I do, as well. It doesn’t negate the need to change the scenery every now and again. Do something simply for myself.”
She inclined her head ever so slightly, but didn’t back down. “As is your choice.”
“These designs are approved.”
The rapid change in subject had the desired effect, her eyes hazing over briefly as she sought to keep up. “Approved? Just done?”
“Yes.”
“No one else has to see them?”
“Who else would?”
“Right.”
When that cute look of confusion continued to stamp itself across her face, Rafe added, “I know quality when I see it. I also know an idea that will bring people into my casino, potentially enticing them to stay and play. Your fairy glade and evil witch will be a perfect enchantment once the holidays are over.”
“Thank you.”
“I only have one question.”
“What’s that?”
“What happens when they get past the evil queen?”
Evangeline tapped the rolled paper on the table, all confusion gone from her eyes. “It’s all up to the guest.”
“Oh?”
“They can turn right back the way they came. Or they can push past her and straight on through to the other side and try their luck in your casino.”
“Cowardice or greed, Miss Kennedy?”
“I’d say it fits most people to a T.”
He couldn’t say why his conversation with Evangeline unsettled him, but three hours later Rafe was still restless as he prowled the casino floor. He’d spent a few moments glad-handing the high rollers, thanking them for their business and ensuring they were comfortable with all the Archangel’s accommodations. As three of the five individuals he met with had been back several times, he took it as a noteworthy sign his staff was exceeding expectations—as expected.
After the floor visits he moved on up to Security. The command center was the heart of the property’s sophisticated security system and the high-tech room boasted a setup as slick as NASA, only with newer equipment. He and his brother had maintained his father’s practice—all technology was upgraded annually.
The Archangel was their business and their sanctuary and they were committed to it staying profitable and safe. As a result, the security team was handpicked and compensated handsomely for seeing to both.
“Floor’s looking good today.” Charlie, the husband of one of Rafe’s multitude of cousins, greeted him. The grizzled ex-marine had shoulders like a linebacker and eyes as flat as a cobra. And two pictures of his one-year-old twin daughters dotted his console, both decked out in frilly pink.
“No issues with the weeklong bachelor party in quadrant six?”
