An image exploded in her thoughts—the burning man on the grounds. She’d briefly forgotten him in the tempting testosterone of the Stavros brothers but the strong memory hadn’t lain dormant for long.
Did Rafe know? Was that why he didn’t want her working late? Curious, she pressed him. “I’m perfectly capable of seeing to my responsibilities.”
“Your responsibilities don’t require you to keep a schedule of eighteen straight hours of manual labor. It’s neither healthy nor good for you.”
“I manage just fine.”
“It’s dangerous work if you’re tired.”
“Yes, well the holiday season comes once a year and leaving beds of empty dirt all over the property where plants should be is hardly festive. I’m not a slacker like your former horticulture lead and I’d think you would appreciate the effort.”
“It’s not a matter of appreciation.”
“So maybe you should say thank you and we can move on.” Evangeline waited for the inevitable result of her bold words—narrowed eyes and a small layer of shock at her frankness—before she pressed her advantage. “Or perhaps you’d like to tell me why there was a burning man on the property at three o’clock this morning?”
Rafe had to give her credit—Evangeline Kennedy was crafty. Able-bodied and brassy, she’d come into the Archangel like a whirling dervish and almost eleven months later hadn’t slowed down. She fascinated him, with her long, coltish gait and thick, curly hair that was perpetually piled atop her head.
But it was her eyes. A rich brown the color of the finest dark chocolate. Every time he looked at her, he could swear she saw him to the very depths of his soul.
She had old eyes. Ancient eyes. Just like the curse he bore upon his body as surely as it was the greatest gift he possessed.
She’d intrigued him immediately, the woman who’d stood on his property, giving hell to the former horticulture expert they’d had on staff. Although Don Casey had a strong reputation throughout Las Vegas, Rafe and Gabe had soon discovered the man’s penchant for the bottle had dulled his artistic sensibilities to be virtually nonexistent. He’d been on the hunt for someone new when Evangeline took matters into her own hands.
Presumably visiting the property one evening on a stroll down the Strip, she’d seen Don butchering an installation, designed to look like a heard of African elephants marching in a row through the lobby. She’d berated Don, then ripped several tools from his grip. Evangeline was on her knees, patting a thick hoof into place in the lobby when Rafe had come upon her.
Gabe had quickly ushered Don away, saving what small amount of pride the man had left, leaving Rafe to deal with the dirt-stained harpy in his lobby. He’d nearly yelled right back at her until he saw the small, frustrated tears that filled the corners of her eyes.
And damn it to hell, if she hadn’t caught him by the balls in that moment, and all the moments since.
“I’m waiting, Mr. Stavros.”
Images of those big brown eyes, swimming with the lightest sheen of tears, faded in the face of those same eyes, alight in banked fury. “What are you talking about? If anything was burning on my property beyond the couples on the dance floor at Spark, I’d know about it.”
“Last night. The property outside the greenhouse. I saw a man burning.”
“Impossible.”
Rafe knew just how possible it was, but he held his ground, unwilling to break his gaze. “I am aware of all incidents that happen on property and nothing burned last night.”
“Then explain to me what I saw.”
Rafe folded his hands behind his back and stared down at her. He only had a slight height advantage and estimated her around five-nine or -ten to his six-two. “A late-night hallucination after pushing yourself for eighteen hours?”
“I know what I saw.”
“And I know what goes on here at the Archangel. We had no fire last night.”
The slightest tilt of her head was the only sign she mulishly didn’t believe him, but she was all business when she next spoke. “I brought the designs you requested.”
“Let’s get to them.” He gestured her to a seat at the long conference table that dominated the far wall of his office.
In moments, he had visions of a forest glade rising in his mind, scattered with wood nymphs, centaurs and sprites as she walked him through her designs. “You want an evil queen, too?”
“She has to be there.” Evangeline tapped on the edge of the layout, the paper equivalent of the west side of his lobby. “It’s an enchanted forest, drawing the guest from an inviting jaunt past the fairy glade farther and deeper into the installation. Once they realize they’re in the queen’s clutches, it’s too late to turn back.”
“And you can do this in a week?”
“With your approval my team will start construction of the basics this week. We’ll create the forms off-site and bring them in for the final installation just after the New Year.”
“No rest through Christmas?”
He wasn’t sure why it bothered him so much, the idea that she took no time for herself. He was no stranger to work, the casino business a twenty-four-hour-a-day job.
“I wasn’t aware the casino closed during the holidays. And I’ve made provisions in the timing to accommodate everyone’s reduced vacation schedules.”
“And what about you?” He laid a hand over hers. “Will you be taking some vacation?”
Her hand stiffened beneath his, but Rafe was intrigued to see she didn’t remove it. “I have no need of vacation time now.”
“Nor have you taken any since joining the Archangel?”
She slipped her hand from his, folding the large architectural rendering into a roll. “What’s this sudden interest in the hours I work?”
“I’m a concerned employer. All work and no play makes one dull and uninteresting.”
A small smile tugged the corner of her lips. “I spend my days doing what I love. Vacation is unnecessary.”
Rafe stilled, the security review he’d conducted at five that morning—post-recovery—filling his thoughts. “I love what I do, as well. It doesn’t negate the need to change the scenery every now and again. Do something simply for myself.”
She inclined her head ever so slightly, but didn’t back down. “As is your choice.”
“These designs are approved.”
The rapid change in subject had the desired effect, her eyes hazing over briefly as she sought to keep up. “Approved? Just done?”
“Yes.”
“No one else has to see them?”
“Who
