The Jaguar Star (Tales of the Were: Jaguar Island Book 4) by Bianca D'Arc (the first e reader .TXT) 📕

could be seen in spots, but mostly, the island looked like a big mountain—which she knew was a dormant volcano—that rose sharply from the sea. The only inviting part, where a few boats bobbed in the water and a long landing strip could be seen, was on the side of the island they were approaching.

The pilots skillfully brought the craft down and landed with hardly a bump on an impossibly narrow strip of runway that was unlike anything Katrina had seen at the few airports she had flown to or from in her life. This airstrip was definitely unique, but it seemed safe as they taxied a short distance once the jet had slowed down enough to roll along on the ground.

It took almost no time at all before they were parked on the ground near a large door that looked as if it was built almost directly into the mountain. Perhaps it was. Katrina didn’t know much about how things were done on this island, but it was just possible the eccentric billionaire who owned it had burrowed into the side of the volcano to build his private airplane hangar. It felt like something out of a comic book, but who better to build a secret lair than the reclusive Mark Pepard?

Chapter Fourteen

Within moments of the jet coming to a complete halt, Sissy opened the door to the outside, and everybody was out of their seats, stretching and heading for the door. Since they were seated near the front of the plane, Katrina and Ren were among the first out.

Katrina’s first view of the island from the ground was impressive. As she stepped off the plane, she got a lungful of moist tropical air that smelled faintly of the many flowers that she could see blooming in the not-too-distant foliage. The airstrip was small, and though she was no expert, it looked as if a large part of it was actually a pier that extended into the ocean.

Only a few people were there to greet the plane, and most of them looked like they were there strictly to help with the aircraft. Nobody was in a uniform, per se, but one or two folks were wearing coveralls that made them look as if they were mechanics. Even as Katrina watched from the tarmac while everybody else got off the plane, one of the men in coveralls began unloading luggage from the plane and putting it in a cart.

“John will bring all our bags up to the house,” Ren told her, coming up to her side.

He’d taken a moment to greet the people on the ground as soon as he’d come down the steps. He’d had a few words with everyone, hugging them all like they were part of his extended family. Perhaps, they were. He lived here when he wasn’t filming, after all, and she already knew the pilots and Sissy were related to him. Maybe the rest of his family lived here, too.

“We can take a golf cart up to the house, if you like,” Ren went on. “Or we could walk. It’s not too far, and it might be nice to stretch your legs a bit after sitting so long. What do you say?”

He looked so eager and happy to be here, she couldn’t help but return his smile. “Let’s walk, by all means. It’s such a beautiful day; it’s nice to be outside.”

It looked like everyone on the flight chose to walk as Katrina glanced back and found everyone strolling along the winding path that seemed to lead up to the white-columned mansion in the distance. The foliage was dense and tropical. It was like nothing Katrina had ever seen close up before. She thought she caught the flash of spotted fur a few times among the dense leaves, but she couldn’t be certain and didn’t want to sound foolish by asking. Surely, there had to be some sort of wildlife on this island oasis, but it probably wasn’t dangerous to people walking up this well-used path.

When they got to the mansion, Ren walked right in, apparently familiar enough with the owners to take that sort of liberty. The others followed behind, just as easily, and Katrina started to wonder just how friendly the Pepards would be to all these film people showing up in the middle of their well-appointed and massive-scale foyer. She didn’t have to wonder for long as the man himself appeared from a side corridor, a broad smile on his face.

Ren went right up to Mark Pepard and gave him a bear hug. Nonplussed by the familiar greeting, Katrina held back, meeting the gaze of the blonde woman who arrived just behind Pepard. She smiled at Katrina and rolled her eyes indulgently at the men as she stepped around them to offer her hand.

“I’m Shelly, Mark’s wife. You must be Katrina.” The women shook hands politely, exchanging smiles.

“Thank you for inviting me. Your house is lovely,” Katrina offered, but Shelly waved away her compliment.

“It’s good if you like big, white, boxy mansions, but I didn’t design it. I’ve been working on community buildings and individual houses for folks who live farther inland. Some of my best work, if I do say so myself,” Shelly added with a slight bow of her head.

“Ren told me you were an architect,” Katrina replied. “He was very enthusiastic about your design sense.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” Shelly told her, smiling.

Ren and Mark joined them at that point, and Ren made the formal introduction. Katrina shook Mark’s hand, and it was one of those moments in her life that stood out, somehow. The energy of this reclusive billionaire was something she’d only ever experienced with Ren. He had a zapping sort of electricity about him that spoke of power held in check.

With Ren, it was more obvious because of his magnetic green eyes, but Mark’s slightly darker green gaze snapped with the same intelligence and leashed fury of Ren’s energy. The only difference was that