Secrets of the Jaguar (Crimson Romance) by Jaye Shields Read Free Book Online Page B

afraid of him, he knew that, but she was disgusted by him and that tore his hope to pieces.
    He wasn’t sure what he hoped for, but the sinking feeling in his gut was something new. With no desire to observe other people being happy, enjoying the beautiful day, he merely sat in his chair unmoving.
    He told himself that it wasn’t unrequited love causing his nosedive into loneliness, but that he was intrigued by her and the lightness that came with Michelle’s company. Not love. For sure, not love.
    • • •
    Michelle had wiped the tears off her cheek, finished crying over her stupidity. Glancing around the room at the grand mess, she sighed loudly.
I could clean this mess. I’d probably feel better.
Surveying the damage, she scrunched her nose in dismay.
Or I could find Duncan and apologize.
    So now, wiping her sweaty palms down the jeans that Duncan bought for her, the jeans that fit perfectly, Michelle continued her walk down Willow Avenue toward the beach. She began practicing what she would say to him, if he even desired to listen. She’d been a grand jerk. So much for the promise not to judge each other; Michelle had been the first to tear apart that vow.
    As the beach came into sight, she sucked in a breath. Her long, black hair whipped into her mouth from the reckless Bay wind. Michelle stuck her tongue out uselessly, as if to release her hair from its sticky hold on the crevice of her mouth. So much had happened in the previous week. For the first time, she had a connection to a lead on her past, on her nature as a shifter. And she finally found someone she didn’t want to run away from, who stirred powerful feelings inside her. And that person just happened to be a vampire. She forced herself to put that image out of her head as she turned to walk along the beach toward the bird sanctuary, the trail that led to Duncan’s house.
Think of him as a person, not as a vampire. After all, Michelle, you don’t want him to just think of you as a shape shifter.
    It was a windy afternoon in Alameda, and Michelle let herself become distracted by the windsurfers whipping along the water. Awe built within her as she watched them leap into the air with their boards, and she smiled as she watched someone plunge into the water, his head popping up like a bobber.
    Then the cement walkway along Ocean View drive ended, and the dirt path through the estuary began. Sticking out her arms to fondle the tall anise plants, she wandered the path, watching graceful white egrets perched in the water, waiting for lunch to swim by.
    She recognized Duncan’s house not far from the pier they met on. The home was two stories, not unlike most of the houses on the estuary, but his house was by far the most clean and elegant. Two stories of rich wood craftsmanship sat nestled before a spacious front yard filled with lush greenery. The house had a second story deck where French doors opened to a cozy seating area. She noticed there was only one lounge chair.
    The yard had only a short wooden fence, unpainted, the same earthy wood of the house. Michelle opened the gate and walked into the backyard. She noticed a rosebush, planted next to a wooden recliner. The rose had seen better days indeed. Sure it was fall, but the leaves were crinkled and dilapidated, and the brown rose petals were covered in fungus. The rose bush told the tale that her new friend Duncan was definitely without a green thumb.
    You’d think someone who had all day and all night for eternity would have mastered the art of gardening by now.
She chuckled to herself.
    From the yard, Michelle could hear the eloquent sounds of the piano coming from inside his home. Getting an idea, Michelle quietly backed out of the yard and ran through the estuary the way she came.
    • • •
    Sitting in his home, Duncan sat at his piano, playing long, classical streams as he gazed at the tide rolling in through the estuary. Duncan’s senses picked up something and he immediately ceased his