Page 5 of Brushed By Moonlight

I pushed past Henrik, who had paused at the threshold of the room. This was my château, dammit. And I was going to seize back control.

A tall man paced just inside the door with a phone glued to his ear, exudingI’m in chargevibes. Light brown hair, amber eyes, bright and cool as gemstones. Carefully tended, three-day shadow of a beard, and close-cropped hair. David Beckham with a military twist and without the smirk. Oh, and an olive tint to his skin that hinted at the Near East.

“Excuse m—” I snipped, stomping up to him.

He stuck up a hand, like I was a waitress offering a refill of his coffee.No thanks,the gesture said.Now, please toddle off. As you can see, I’m very busy.

He paced right by me, as if I was part of the goddamn furniture.

The earthy, herbs-of-the-jungle scent behind his cologne hit me, and I did a double take. Tiger shifter?

My inner detective correctedNear EasttoIndia, but only a splash, perhaps from one of his parents or grandparents. That would explain thetigerpart. But, yeesh. The guy might have a body to die for, but the dismissive attitude just wasn’t doing it for me.

“Roux, meet Mina,” the vampire murmured, ghosting past us and into a corner of the room, where he started inspecting the small items on display. An antique snuff box. A nineteenth-century porcelain clock. A music box with an exquisite lid of inlaid wood. One by one, he studied each treasure, then set it down — in the wrong place, despite the dust-free footprint clearly marking its home base.

I stomped over and snatched a brass candlestick out of his hands.

“Don’t touch.”

He scoffed. “You’re worried about these knickknacks?”

They were heirlooms, dammit, not knickknacks. There was a difference.

“Don’t touch,” I growled.

The tiger was still pacing, intent on his phone. Intent on everything, in fact — in contrast to the blond flopped on the couch with a coffee in one hand and his feet on the Louis XVII table, looking all the world like an off-duty lifeguard. One I’d be tempted to ogle from behind a pair of dark sunglasses if I happened to be on his beach.

But I wasn’t on his beach, dammit. He was inmydrawing room, and his boots rested on the spot reserved for my grandmother’s tea service.

I snapped my fingers in front of his face. “Feet off the table. Now.”

“Well, hello to you too.” He chuckled, lowering one foot, then the other, to the floor. Every move he made was lazy and confident, and no wonder.

Lion,my sixth sense told me. King of the jungle, at least in his own mind. I knew the type.

If Henrik, the vampire, was straight out ofGQ, this guy was a vision from a teen fangirl magazine. Roux, the tiger, fit somewhere betweenGuns & AmmoandField & Stream.All were in roughly the right — er, my — age bracket.

“Bene — short for Benedict. Nice to meet you,” the blond on the couch said in an accent that was hard to place. South Africa? England? North America? Every syllable visited a different continent. He raised his mug in a toast, sipped, then grimaced.

“Mina,” I grumbled, though I was drowned out by the tiger shifter complaining to the person on the other end of the line.

“Well, that’s just not going to work,” he said. “We need twice the gear you’ve supplied. A better vehicle, too.”

“And a decent coffee machine,” Bene called out.

I wished. Did he know how expensive those were?

I turned to the fourth man in the room — the tall, brooding one staring out the window and into the very gates of hell, it seemed. I had the impression he was looking in more than out, though. All in all, he would make a good candidate for the cover ofBikes, Booze & Tattoosmagazine, if there was such a thing. Definitely the tortured soul type. I stepped closer, then halted, glimpsing bright, swirling flames in his midnight eyes.

That man was a dragon shifter, and he was not in a good mood. I turned away. Quickly.

“This place is just not suitable,” Roux ranted into the phone.

I glared. Not that he noticed.

“Also,” the tiger went on in rapid-fire English delivered in a slight French lilt, “you need to contact this Wilhelm guy and tell him to get his ass over here now.”

I stalked closer, not amused.