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“Nah.” Gabe shuddered. “Claims he’d be better at it if he had grandchildren.”
A wholly unexpected image of Evangeline rose up in his mind’s eye. She was absolutely unsuitable—she was an employee with a highly suspicious lineage—but Rafe couldn’t fully ignore the hot rush of need that accompanied the vision. “He can keep wishing.”
“You put Evangeline off?”
“Not dropping this one?”
Gabe smiled, the grin bordering on feral. “Not a chance.”
“The woman knows her mind and isn’t willing to be put off. I’ve got her down in the spa now, giving her the royal treatment and attempting to convince her she’s been working too hard.”
“Having any luck?”
“We’ll see in about two hours after Madelina’s team works on her.” Rafe stood from his desk, tapping the file folder that had already worn around the edges. “Of all the damn people.”
“Why?”
He and Gabe were as close as brothers could be, but he’d kept this from him. Kept the quiet knowledge to himself about Evangeline’s background and parentage. On a hard breath, he snagged the folder and handed it to his brother.
Gabe took the offering, his ability to quickly assess a situation more than evident when he snapped the folder closed a few moments later. “She’s a Hunter?”
“The daughter of one.”
“We’ve had a freaking Hunter on property for damn near a year and this is the first you’ve told me?”
He rarely second-guessed himself, but one look at Gabe’s face had Rafe reconsidering. “I’ve been watching her.”
“We could all have been watching her. Or better yet—” Gabe threw the folder on the desk. “We could have let her go on her merry freaking way and avoided hiring her in the first place.”
“She’s good. Her installations alone have increased foot traffic by thirty percent.”
Gabe stiffened up at that, straightening to his full height. “First the whales and now this? This place is our sanctuary. Have you forgotten that?”
“I’ve forgotten nothing.”
“Then how can you ignore the fact the woman’s dangerous? To us. Our way of life. Our people.”
An image of that long, lithe form curled up inspecting the grass outside filled his head. Was she seeking proof? Attempting to set a trap? Or was it something else?
Rafe hadn’t sensed malice in her. More, she had an aching vulnerability about her that called to some strange, empty place deep inside of him.
Orphan.
Emancipated minor.
Workhorse.
None of those images matched with the sullen, disillusioned cadre normally drafted into the Hunters’ midst. Chaos thrived on the weak-minded and the easily swayed.
Evangeline Kennedy was neither.
“We got the intel on the two men she fired yesterday.”
Rafe knew his brother and there was no way he was dropping the subject of Evangeline anytime soon. But there was something underneath the comment that slashed through Rafe’s thoughts. “And?”
“They’re Hunters. My team’s tracked them back to a flophouse on the outskirts of Henderson. I’m headed there tonight.”
“I’ll join you.”
“Save it. You need to keep your focus here.”
“You won’t keep me out of this.”
“Then get your damn head in the game. She comes from the line of people determined to expose us and slaughter us all.”
“The Hunters are minions of Chaos. We’ve yet to narrow in on a leader. We’ve dealt with them before and we’ll deal with them again.”
“He’s here. I can feel it. Know it. There’s been too much static lately. Too many close calls.” Gabe dropped onto the edge of Rafe’s desk. “Don’t tell me you can’t feel it?”
Rafe shook his head, suddenly unwilling to put voice to the feeling. He understood Gabe’s point—had felt the same raw energy swirling around the casino and their people—but kept pushing against it, unwilling to act rashly.
He was the methodical Stavros, while Gabe had their father’s brash, devil-may-care attitude in spades. They complemented each other—they always had—so why were they so far apart on this? Rash action threatened their secrets, but so did ignorance. And it was time he remembered that.
Especially now that Evangeline had seen him take his true form.
And, by all accounts, was determined to understand what it all meant.
While she was still irritated at Rafe’s heavy-handed behavior, dragging her from the lawn and pushing her into a series of spa appointments, Evangeline had to admit the man had a point.
A great point.
If she could put together a coherent thought to remember just how great his point really was.
Relaxation! That was it. He’d been on her, stressing the importance of taking some time for herself and not working too hard.
Firm hands slid up and down her spine, kneading muscles and loosening knots she didn’t even know she had. The massage was the coup de grâce in an afternoon full of rest, relaxation and a significant amount of pampering. A facial. A manicure and pedicure. And some amazing thing with hot rocks that should have burned like crazy but instead, managed to loosen her muscles even more than they already were.
Why didn’t she do this for herself?
The question began as an abstract cloud, floating through her mind, but something about it stilled, expanding in her thoughts.
Why didn’t she do this more often? She wasn’t poor any longer. Far from it, in fact. The Archangel paid her a generous salary for the work she did across the property. She didn’t live extravagantly, her one-bedroom apartment more than enough room for the amount of time she spent there. And working on-property gave her a discount on the spa services.
So why not do this for herself?
Instead, she hoarded her hard-earned income as if she were still shivering and cold, hoping her parents would stop fighting or—worse—praying for the noise when their apartment got so quiet she could hear her own breath. She’d huddle in those moments, her parents’ normally volatile state hushed by whatever drug her father had managed to score that day.
“Miss Kennedy?”
The soft voice pulled her from the dismal memories, the hand on her spine gentle. “Hmm?”
“The treatment is complete. Feel free to stay and relax a bit longer. I’ve left some water on the counter.”
“Thank you.”
Hesitant to let the dreamy state end, Evangeline lay there a few more moments after the door clicked on a quiet close. Try as she might, she couldn’t fully bring back that delicious dream state. Instead, those memories of her parents peeked in, pressing against the edges of her memory with all the finesse of an attack dog.
Her father’s addiction. Her mother’s equally helpless outlook on life. And the loss of both of them by the time she was seven.
“Miss Kennedy.” The knock was soft, yet insistent and Evangeline sat up, pulling the sheet tight around herself.
“Come in.”
Madelina bustled in, her elegant form somehow softened in the muted light and calming music. Where she’d initially seen a militant effectiveness shining in the woman’s eyes before, Evangeline had to admit three hours of pampering had softened the edges of her vision. Madelina had gone from dragon to fairy godmother and she gave her a big smile. “Hello.”
“It looks like my team did their job.”
“They were wonderful.” Evangeline glanced down at her toes where her legs swung against the table. “I even have red toes.”
“Enough to drive a man wild.”
“I’m not… I mean.”
Madelina patted her arm. “It’s always good to be prepared.”
The woman seemed to understand she had nothing to say and bustled on. “Have you had your water?” When she eyed the glass still on the counter, she picked it up and marched it over. “It’s essential to hydrate. Drink up. Then you’ll come with me.”
The cool water, tinged with the refreshing taste of cucumber, was fresh on her tongue as she drank.
“You enjoyed the treatments?”
“I did.” Evangeline set her glass of water down, abstractly wondering if she’d ever tasted anything so good.
“Excellent. Because I’ve made a standing appointment for you monthly.”
“I don’t—” Evangeline broke off, not sure why she was arguing. She’d had a similar thought herself, so why be irritated when someone else did the kindness for her? And yet…
“Mr. Stavros has added it to your employment package.”
That urge to argue flared once more, even if Madelina was simply the messenger, but the woman held up a hand to forestall her.
“Mr. Stavros insists. Spa treatments aren’t simply a frivolity. You’re a woman who works with your body on a regular basis. It’s important to keep it finely tuned.”
“I can pay for it myself.”
Madelina cocked her head, those eyes sharp. Once again, the fleeting image of a dragon floated through Evangeline’s mind before vanishing. “But why do so when your employer presents you with such generosity?”
“It’s frivolous.”
“There’s nothing wrong with that, either.” Handing over a fresh glass of water, Madelina pointed to the door. “Drink this, then join me in the salon. Berta will direct you once you leave the room.”
Evangeline watched her go, the conversation unsettling on several levels. She wanted the treatments—had thought that very thing as she lay there, soft and warm and boneless from an awesome massage.
So why complain when it was offered as a job perk?
An image of Rafael Stavros filled her mind’s eye, in clear answer to the question.
Tall and dark, the man was a walking, talking version of sin in the flesh. Mercurial gray eyes. Thick, dark hair. Chiseled features and a body that made her fingers itch. She’d never been a woman to ignore her body’s needs, but she’d also never understood the extremes people went to for attraction.
Rafe Stavros tossed that thought right out his penthouse window. The man was lethally sexy and equally formidable in his business. His father had established a successful casino whose business he and his brother had only shot into the stratosphere. From high-end restaurants to Broadway shows to a casino floor that boasted just enough winners to keep the tables packed, the Archangel had become a must-see destination on the Strip.
And she was part of it.
Draining the rest of her water, Evangeline hopped off the table and stretched like a cat. She hadn’t felt this loose-limbed in oh…about forever.
“So what are you complaining about?”
As she caught sight of herself in the small mirror over the treatment room’s sink, Evangeline had to admit to herself she had no answer.
As the original founder of the Archangel, Michael Stavros had a firm policy. Hire good people and leave them alone to do good work. If you found a gem, you had to respect their genius and leave them alone to do their best work in their own way. Alternatively, if you ended up hiring someone who was lazy, stupid or worse, both—fire their ass on the spot.
Although he and Gabe hadn’t adopted every practice their father employed in his own brand of management, some rules of business were immutable.
Hiring good people was essential.
It was why he’d been so drawn to Evangeline. Her work—and her passion and enthusiasm for that work—had stood out above all else. It had him hiring her on the spot and it had been the thing that kept her on staff even after he discovered her past. If the woman was a Hunter, she was a damn fine actress.
Because in nearly a year, all he’d ever observed was a woman obsessed with the look and feel of his property and very little focus on anything else.
Madelina interrupted his thoughts. “Mr. Stavros. The things you requested are ready.”
“And Evangeline?”
“She’ll be out momentarily.” Madelina hesitated for the briefest moment—at odds with her normally tart tongue—and Rafe’s gaze sharpened on her.
“Yes?”
“She enjoyed the day. Told me as much.”
That hesitation remained and Rafe couldn’t resist probing further. “But?”
“I believe she’s a bit perturbed at the generous monthly addition to her compensation plan.”
“Is she now?”
Madelina only nodded, and he couldn’t hide his broad smile, already anticipating the battle that was sure to ensue.
“Madelina!” Evangeline’s voice echoed from the other side of the door to the interior of the spa moments before the thick oak swung inward. “What is this?”
