Tropical Christmas Stag (Shifting Sands Resort 7) - Page 3

It had taken him several false starts to fill that part of the form out, wrestling with over-explaining, justifying. In the end, he’d put down only three words: Deaf. Fluent lip-reader.

He realized he was starting to crumple the confirmation page his assistant had printed and made his hands relax.

The last guest before him was leaving the little desk in the courtyard and he stalked forward with his matching leather luggage to check in.

The woman behind the desk had improbably red hair, pulled back into a tidy bun, and a sharp, green-eyed gaze.

“I’m Scarlet,” she said, looking him square in the face and enunciating with refreshing clarity. “I’m the owner of Shifting Sands.”

Conall appreciated an owner who kept their hands actively on a business and handed his confirmation form and credit card across the desk with a nod and a noise he hoped sounded approving and not just unfriendly.

She took both, efficiently running the card first so that a slow connection—which was to be expected on an isolated island in a foreign country—wouldn’t delay the check-in process.

“You have cottage seven,” Scarlet told him, looking him clearly in the face again. She spread out a map on the desk between him and showed him where it was on the map, on the second tier of buildings from the beach near the edge of the jungle. She pointed out several other features, and Conall had to assume she was saying what they were, as he couldn’t watch her mouth and look at the map at the same time. He could read just fine, so he didn’t ask her to repeat anything.

She turned the brochure over and pointed out the dining and event schedule.

Weekly dances.

Nightly concerts.

Conall stopped reading and took the brochure abruptly. He looked at Scarlet as politely as he had to as they completed the payment. It was a ridiculous amount of money for more cottage than he needed, but at least it was all-inclusive.

“If there is anything we can do for you, I hope you won’t hesitate to ask,” she added. “I have let the staff know about your special needs and I hope that your stay will go smoothly.”

“I don’t need any special concessions,” Conall said firmly. And I don’t want them, he didn’t add, though he thought it bitterly.

He gave his final signature on the paperwork and gathered his luggage, half an eye on Scarlet to see if she was going to be troublesome and chatty.

But she only nodded briskly and returned to her own business, leaving Conall to descend down the jungle path to his escape from Christmas.

Chapter 3

“You sure about this?” Tex asked Gizelle. He was being carefully gentle, like Scarlet had been.

“I can do this,” Gizelle insisted.

Everyone at the resort did something. Tex, a bear shifter, was the bartender, and he made drinks and listened to people. His mate, the wolf shifter Laura, did a little of everything, helping out at the spa and making beds and cleaning and serving drinks in the bar.

Bastian, who was also a dragon, was a lifeguard, and had saved two people from dro

wning since Gizelle had arrived almost a year ago. One of those people, Saina, had turned out to be a mermaid and Bastian’s mate, and as well as sometimes being a lifeguard, she sang every night in a fancy dress. Gizelle liked the way Saina’s voice made her forget how different she was.

Travis, a lynx shifter, fixed things that were broken, if they weren’t people. His mate, Jenny, was the good lawyer, and Gizelle had taught her to be better at being an otter shifter.

Jenny was good at shifting now, even better than Gizelle was, so that didn’t count as Gizelle doing anything anymore.

They all did something, and Gizelle wanted to be that kind of person, the kind who did something.

Tex gave her the tray reluctantly.

“It’s almost Christmas,” Gizelle reminded him as the thought occurred to her. “Isn’t that exciting? I’m going to make presents.”

She took the tray, holding it carefully flat even though it was empty, and took a deep breath. She was going to do this. She was going to be useful.

The first table she picked had a woman sitting all by herself.

“Can I take your glass?” Gizelle offered, like she had practiced with Tex, checking first to make sure it was empty except for ice cubes.

Tags: Zoe Chant Shifting Sands Resort Fantasy
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