Chapter 9
Sam stood at his bedroom window the following night, staring across the darkened yard at the guest house. Every light seemed to be on, warm yellow rectangles glowing against the night.
Claudia was awake. Probably packing for their upcoming trip. Or maybe working on more protective charms. Or perhaps standing at her own window, looking back at the main house and thinking about what had happened on that makeshift dance floor the night before.
He hadn’t seen her since. She’d managed to avoid him all day, and he didn’t like it. His inner lion was beyond frustrated, and his human half wasn’t far behind.
He wanted to go to her. The pull was almost physical, a tightness in his chest that made it hard to breathe.
His beast was pacing in his soul, restless and dissatisfied with the distance between them.
It wanted him to walk across that yard, knock on her door, and finish what they’d started in the kitchen.
More than finish it. His lion wanted to claim her, mark her, and make it impossible for her to deny what was building between them.
Sam pressed his palm against the cool glass and forced himself to stay still.
This was madness. He was the Alpha of the Kinkaid Clan.
He had responsibilities that went beyond his personal desires.
Getting involved with Claudia, even if she was willing, would complicate everything.
It could impact the mission and even the dynamics within his Clan, not to mention his own carefully maintained control.
But when she’d been in his arms last night, moving with him like they’d been made to fit together, none of that had mattered.
When her magic had spilled out in those shimmering sparkles, creating beauty just from the joy of dancing with him, he’d felt something shift deep in his chest. Something fundamental and irreversible.
He’d wanted to kiss her right there in front of Margo. He’d wanted to pull her close and tell her that this, whatever this was between them, was real. Not just a show. Not even a strategy. It was real.
But he hadn’t. Because once he said those words out loud, once he acted on what he was feeling, there would be no taking it back. And Claudia deserved better than a king who couldn’t give her his full attention, who would always have his people’s needs pulling him in a dozen different directions.
The lights in the guest house began to go out one by one. The bedroom was last, he noted. She was settling in for the night.
Sam stayed at the window long after the last light went dark, torn between duty and desire, between what he should do and what he desperately wanted.
Finally, he forced himself to turn away and climb into his own bed alone. Sleep was a long time coming, and when it did, he dreamed of dancing in a shower of silver-gold light and Claudia, soft and compliant, dancing in his arms.
He woke before dawn, dressed quickly, and left for the office without going near the guest house. It was cowardice, and he knew it. But if he saw Claudia this morning, with those dreams still fresh in his mind and his control worn thin from a restless night, he didn’t know what he might say or do.
Better to maintain distance and professional boundaries. At least until after Monaco, when the mission was complete and he could think clearly again.
Sam spent the day at the office, then texted Barbara to have some more of his clothes sent to the condo in the city. He’d stay there until they left for Monaco. It was easier that way. Safer.
He ignored the way his lion snarled at the decision, frustrated and increasingly agitated by the continued separation from what it had decided was theirs.
The rest of the time until departure passed in a blur of final preparations.
Sam threw himself into work, reviewing security protocols, confirming travel arrangements, and studying everything Gavin had compiled on the Celestine Gala’s other guests.
He saw Claudia in passing at the office, exchanged professional greetings, and carefully didn’t think about how she’d felt in his arms or the way her magic had responded to his touch.
The day before their departure, Sam, Claudia, and Gavin gathered in the main conference room for a final briefing. When Sam arrived, the table was already covered with files and photographs. Gavin was setting up his laptop to display information on the large screen at the far end of the room.
“Alpha,” Gavin greeted him. “Coffee’s fresh if you want some.”
“Thanks.” Sam poured himself a cup and settled into his usual chair at the head of the table. “Do you have final confirmation?”
“Yes. Kettering will definitely be there, along with at least three known associates.” Gavin pulled up the first image. “But there are some complications.”
The door opened, and Claudia entered, carrying her own tablet and a leather portfolio.
She’d dressed professionally today in dark slacks and a crisp white blouse, her hair pulled back in a neat bun.
She looked every inch the competent consultant, and nothing like the soft woman who’d created magic with him on a dance floor.
“Sorry I’m late,” she said, taking the seat to Sam’s right. “I was on the phone with Granny Tucker about some last-minute research.”
“Perfect timing,” Gavin said. “I was just about to start.”
For the next three hours, they went through every detail of the intel Gavin had gathered.
They went over Abdul Kettering’s background, his business dealings, his known associates.
They also looked at the other guests expected at the gala, their relationships to Kettering, and their potential sympathies or hostilities.
“This is Prince Rashid,” Gavin said, pulling up a photo of a handsome man in his forties. “Part of a royal family, obscenely wealthy, and a known arms buyer. He and Kettering have done business together for years. If Kettering’s there, the prince will be too.”
“Any magical connections?” Claudia asked, making notes on her tablet.
“None confirmed, but the prince’s family has employed mages in the past. Assume he’ll have magical protection.” Gavin clicked to the next image. “This is Victoria Blackwell. British, old money, rumored to have connections to several dark magic circles in Europe.”
Sam leaned forward. “Rumored?”
“Nothing concrete enough to definitively put her on the enemies list, but the rumors are persistent. She collects occult artifacts, hosts invite-only gatherings at her estate in Scotland. If the Venifucus has a Scottish branch, she’s likely connected to it.”
Claudia’s pen stilled on her tablet. “I’ll need to be very careful around her. If she’s sensitive to magic, she’ll notice me immediately.”
“That might not be a bad thing,” Sam said. “If Kettering knows we have magical support, it could make him more cautious.”
“Or aggressive,” Claudia countered. “Depends on how confident he is in his own resources.”
They continued through the list. Russian oligarchs, Chinese tech billionaires, American industrialists. Each one a potential ally or enemy, each one with their own agenda and secrets.
“The opening gala is the big one,” Gavin said, pulling up a floor plan of the venue. “Two hundred guests, open bar, dancing. Security will be tight, but it’s also where you’ll have the best opportunity to observe Kettering in a social setting.”
“And where everyone will be observing us,” Claudia added quietly.
Sam glanced at her, catching the slight tension in her shoulders. “We’ll be fine. We’ve practiced.”
Their eyes met for a moment, and he saw the memory of dancing flicker across her face before she looked away.
“Saturday’s poolside brunch is more casual,” Gavin continued. “Smaller groups, easier to have private conversations. That might be your best opportunity to approach Kettering directly if the moment presents itself.”
“What about magical security at the venue?” Claudia asked.
“The hotel employs a couple of low-level mages. I suspect they’re there to cast or reinforce wards, but nothing heavy-duty, is my take.
You’ll be able to tell us better when you get there, Claudia.
The guests themselves are the real concern.
At least a dozen confirmed mages on the invitation list, and probably more who keep their abilities quiet. ”
“I’ll need to keep my shields tight,” Claudia said. “The protective items I made for Sam will help, but if someone really wants to probe us, they’ll be able to tell I’m a mage.”
“Which is fine,” Sam reminded her. “We’re not hiding what you are, just being cautious about broadcasting it.”
They worked through contingency plans, emergency protocols, extraction scenarios. Gavin had arranged for backup in the area, including Deidre and her mate, Miguel, who would be offshore and ready to respond if needed.
“One more thing,” Gavin said as they wrapped up.
“The yacht excursion on Sunday, if you end up staying that long. The guest list for that is smaller and more exclusive. Only about fifty people. If Kettering’s going to make any deals or have any sensitive conversations, that’s probably where it’ll happen. ”
“Away from the main venue, out on the water,” Sam mused. “Harder to monitor, easier to keep things private.”
“Exactly.” Gavin pulled up photos of the yacht.
“The event will be held on a two-hundred-foot superyacht called the Artemis. It’s owned by a Greek shipping magnate who’s hosted this event for the past five years.
Three decks, multiple lounges, full crew.
You’ll have some freedom to move around, but be aware that the crew will be watching. ”
“And probably reporting back to their employer,” Claudia said.
“Most likely.”
Sam sat back, processing everything they’d reviewed. There were a lot of variables, and a lot of potential complications. But they’d prepared as well as they could. The rest would depend on luck, timing, and trusting each other.
“Any more questions?” Gavin asked.