Chapter One
RAEL PARTON caught sight of his reflection in the glass door of the building and sighed internally.
I knew I should’ve gotten a haircut this week.
Not that it would have done a damn thing. Five minutes after sitting in his barber’s chair, Rael reverted to looking a mess. It didn’t matter what his long-suffering barber did to try to tame Rael’s unruly mop of blond hair. The result was always the same.
No wonder I’m single. Who’d want to wake up next to that?
Except that was bullshit, and he knew it. Staying single meant not having to share the fact that he could turn into a lion in the twinkling of an eye. There were definite drawbacks to being considered a myth.
Rael blamed it on his lion. It was his default. Of course, he might have looked better if he’d gone straight to bed the previous night—except it had been more like early morning—when he arrived at his hotel. That’s what I get for taking a later flight. A lack of sleep sure wasn’t helping matters either. Then again, the location of his hotel had made for a noisy night, and sleep really hadn’t been an option.
And I wanted to make a good impression too.
Then he reconsidered. He was a photojournalist who’d made a name for himself by getting into places no one else had reached. Who was going to care if his hair wasn’t slicked down and neat and he seemed a little rumpled? He looked the part, dammit.
Rael crossed the marble floor to the wide desk occupied by two security guards. As he drew closer, he reached into his capacious bag for the email invitation.
The larger of the two guards gave him a polite smile. “Good morning.” The other looked him up and down, his gaze narrowed.
Rael pulled himself up to his full height of five feet eight and did his best to look professional. “Good morning. My name is Rael Parton. I’m here to interview Mr. Anson Prescott. I am expected.” Rael handed the invitation to the first guard.
“Your ID, sir?” Rael gave it to him, and the guard scrutinized it carefully before returning it. “Thank you.”
The second guard frowned. “You sure Mr. Prescott is expecting you? Because he hasn’t come in yet.”
“Unless he flew in by helicopter,” the first guard added. “He does that a lot.” He scanned the invitation before handing it back with the same polite smile. “Take the elevator to the top floor. Mr. Prescott’s private office is up there.” He pointed to the rear of the entrance hall. “The last elevator on the right is the only one that goes up that far. You’ll have to buzz to be let in, but I’ll let his secretary know you’re on your way.”
Rael replaced the letter in his bag. “Thank you. You’ve been very helpful.” Well, one of them had. The other had peered at Rael like he expected him to pull a gun at any moment. He gave the men a cheerful nod, then headed for the five elevators. Around him, people were scurrying like ants, the air buzzing with chatter as employees began their working day. Rael pressed the button for the last elevator, his phone in his hand. He’d made sure it was fully charged before leaving the hotel, ready for recording the interview. His camera was in his bag, along with his list of questions, and he patted it reassuringly as he got onto the elevator.
This was only the third such interview Rael had conducted in his latest project, A New Breed, a series of articles on corporate America. He’d identified ten rising companies that were experiencing great success under the direction of young CEOs. Getting in to see them so far hadn’t proved problematic; it appeared this new breed of rising stars were keen to talk about themselves.
What made his heart race was the thought of interviewing Anson Prescott. Global Bio-Tech was at the top of Rael’s list, and it had taken him three months to tie Anson down to an interview date. The twenty-two-year-old CEO, although happy to talk to him, was apparently supremely busy.
Twenty-two. Christ. What was I doing at twenty-two? Hell, Rael was thirty-five, and he still didn’t have shit figured out.
The elevator came to a smooth halt, and the doors slid open, revealing a wall of glass emblazoned with the words Global Bio-Tech in gold lettering. Rael smiled to himself. No one can say they don’t know which company this is. He located the green button set into the glass and pressed it. About a minute later, an immaculately dressed woman appeared. She smiled as she approached, pointing a remote at the glass wall. One of the panels slid open.
“Mr. Parton? I’m Veronica Brading, Mr. Prescott’s secretary. My apologies, but Mr. Prescott is running a little late this morning. Unavoidable, I’m afraid. Please come this way. May I get you something while you wait? Coffee, tea, bottled water, or a soda perhaps? If you haven’t had breakfast, I can have something sent up.”
Rael smiled warmly. “Thank you, but I’m fine.” She gave him a single nod before walking back the way she’d come. Rael followed her along a hallway, the floor covered with a deep blue carpet. At the far end was a door. She opened it and stood to one side to let him enter. As soon as he did so, Rael caught his breath.
“Oh my God,” he said softly.
“That’s usually people’s first reaction. Although there have been a few who screamed.”
Rael turned his head to look at her. “Gee. I wonder why.” Then he returned his gaze to the sight before him. A glass cage took up the entire width of one wall. He estimated it had to be at least seventy feet long, twenty feet high, and ten feet deep, reaching up to the ceiling. At each end stood a tree, both of them sturdy looking, almost reaching the top of the cage. In one of the front corners was a pool of water, and tall grasses sprang up over the floor of the cage. Rael couldn’t believe it. A complete habitat housed in a glass cage.
But what made his heart hammer was the tiger.
It lay stretched out on a low branch of one of the trees, its left front leg curved around the thick limb as if hugging it, its head resting on the branch—and its bright eyes focused on Rael.
Breathing had never been such a chore.
“What a magnificent animal,” Rael murmured. The tiger didn’t move, but its gaze didn’t falter. It lay so still Rael could hardly believe it was real, until he looked along its flanks to see the gentle movement of its body as it inhaled and exhaled.
He scanned the cage walls. “How do you get into it?” He couldn’t see a door.
“There are hatches behind the trees, big enough for someone to crawl through.”
Rael gave a chuckle. “Wait—so its dinner crawls inside?”
Veronica laughed. “No, those are for when the cage needs maintaining.” She pointed to the ceiling. “There’s a wire grille that covers the cage. It slides back so food can be dropped through.”
Rael wiped his forehead. “Even so, I wouldn’t crawl into a cage with a tiger in it.” He peered up at the grille. “You’d need a tall set of ladders to even get up there.” He couldn’t resist. “Do you ever get to feed it?”
Veronica put her hand to her chest. “It makes my heart pound just thinking about it. I leave that to braver souls than me.”
“Still, it’s taking a chance.” Rael had only ever seen tigers at the zoo, and each time his lion had roared at the sight of the captives. Which led him back to this tiger. “How does it come to be here?” He hated the idea of someone keeping such a beautiful predator as a pet, a rich man’s mere accessory.