The Bear King's Captive: Curvy Paranormal Shape Shifter Romance Read online

  Hannes waited until the rise and fall of her breaths shallowed. He pulled out a green blanket from a cabinet. When laying it over her, a lock of her hair shifted over her cheek. He crouched to his heels and carefully moved the straggler behind her ear.

  The strands were soft, like cotton. The smell of her shampoo washed calming vibrations through him. He wanted to slide his fingers along the curve of her neck, to breathe in her essence, to have her near him.

  Warning sirens blared through his head. He returned to his chair. Running his fingers through his hair, he realized she was a danger to him, a threat strong enough to make him kill. For the second time, his inner beast agreed.

  TWENTY-NINE

  Like so many times before, he sees Catalina standing by the fountain on the far side of the garden. He calls to her, but she does not hear him. He runs toward her only to find she appears farther and farther away.

  Then he is standing inches from her. Her lavender perfume fills the air. He lifts his hand to touch her face. There is a noise behind him. Even in his dream, he knows if he turns, he will lose her. But he can’t stop himself--his will is not his own. He prepares for the prison camp from which he has, and has never, escaped.

  But instead of the ramshackle huts and muddy snow inside the razor wrapped fence, he sees a cliff’s steep and rocky face. This was the last thing she saw before she died. At his feet, the clear ravine flows. To the side rests the unidentifiable remains of the silver Mercedes he bought her, in a shallow impact hole where it landed after the hundred-foot plunge from the cliff. Why was she driving so recklessly? What had happened?

  His body tenses, eyes flee from the car. He couldn’t save her. He preferred the tortuous camp dreams over this. Physical pain he can control. This tears at him. And only him. His inner animal remains calm. Almost uncaring, it seems. The bear whines, telling him to get over it already. She’s not his mate. His mate?

  The river before him moves on, stopping for nothing. The water witness to her last breath now rolls along the ocean current, carrying the memory to a rocky grave, leaving cleansed time in the wake.

  He hears Catalina behind him and turns. On the other side of the fence, she has returned to his villa’s garden fountain. She watches him with bewitching black eyes.

  Catalina…why…?

  A head jerk and small gasp awakened Hannes. The sound of a soothing jet hum settled his anxiety. Though no longer in the dream, the same anguish and confusion remained.

  He looked at the leather sofa where Leah slept. The blanket lay discarded on the end cushion. Surveying the area, Hannes didn’t see her. He breathed a sigh of relief. Only one woman would ever live in his heart. His future remained locked. But was he still sure of that?

  Hannes made his way to the cockpit and opened the thin metal door.

  “Señor Otila, good to see you.” The pilot smiled and took off his headset. “You no fly last mission.”

  The commander chuckled. “Nothing to do with you, Captain. Just thought a water cruise would be fun.”

  The pilot glanced out the front windows. “Did you enjoy cruise?”

  An instant, deep laugh caught Hannes off guard. “I’m not sure enjoy is the right word, but I’m glad I chose that route.” His insides felt light. The smile stuck to his face. “How long until we land?”

  “About three hours, señor.”

  “Good, good.” Hannes closed the door and ran his fingers through his hair. What to do with the woman? Keep her! The bear had definite ideas. Would Roclas hurt her if she was turned over to him? A spark of protective anger flicked in his chest. He pushed it away. This woman meant nothing to him. Not true.

  Hannes walked toward the back of the plane. Voices and music floated to his ears. He passed through the narrow opening leading from the conference room to a small kitchen. Leah sat with her feet propped on a chair belonging to a small rectangular table. Packages of edibles covered the tabletop while a thirty-inch plasma TV above the cabinet aired a commercial.

  “Hey.” Leah picked up a cracker and spread canned cheese on it. He sat across the table from her.

  “Here. You haven’t eaten anything since breakfast. You need to eat.” She slid the morsel to him.

  He picked it up and ate it. She nodded to the items on the table, mostly junk food in one form or another. “I was hungry. Hope you don’t mind I scrounged the cabinets. This is the only good stuff; everything else was healthy.”

  Hannes grinned. Sometimes her childlike innocence made him smile. “You like your snacks, don’t you?”

  “Yeah,” Leah smiled, “you don’t want me to go without for too long, especially with chocolate. I turn into a real bear. Not a pretty sight.” She made another cheese cracker and slid it to him. Her presence comforted him: no hostility, anger or rudeness. He almost laughed at her bear comment. Amazingly, he could turn into a real bear, too. She opened a bag of pretzels and put one in her mouth. “This jet is incredible.”

  “Thank you. I recently had it remodeled.”

  Choking, Leah leaned forward, coughed and slapped her chest. “This is yours, personally, not chartered?”

  He looked at her with both eyebrows raised. “Yes, it’s mine. Is that so surprising?”

  Leah sat back in her chair, still coughing. “No, no, not surprising. I just didn’t see you…uh…you know…traveling like this after being on a cargo ship…” She trailed off and he let it go. He was too tired to antagonize right now.

  He picked up the canned cheese, spread an unnaturally yellow smear on a cracker, and ate.

  Leah drew in a sharp breath. Under the bright lights, she reached out and grabbed his wrist. “What happened to the back of your knuckles?”

  Angry humiliation stilted his words. “Nothing.” He pulled back but she wouldn’t release her hold.

  “Nothing, my ass. The skin's been scraped down to the bone. It looks charred.”

  He scowled and ripped his hand free from her grasp. “I said it’s nothing!”

  Leah sat back in her chair. “Okay. Sorry I cared.” She shoved pretzels into her mouth and stared at the TV.

  Paska, he hadn’t meant to be rough. His eyes stared through the window into the endless blue. Her gaze made him aware of every scar and gash on his face, neck, and hands. Based on her reaction to his hands, she would never accept the real damage. No use in pretending she might. Who would want someone as scarred as he was?

  “We’ll be landing in a few hours. Come up front and try to sleep. You may not get the chance for quite a while.”

  In the front leather recliner, Hannes massaged the back of his sore neck. Stiff and groggy, he felt a hundred years old. He should find a secluded cliff or hilltop next to the ocean and spend the rest of his days relaxing in a hammock.

  The image of deep snow and mountains floated through his mind. He and his creature seemed total opposites. He wanted beach, it wanted cold. He’d consider the cold if the big ass critter would share some heat when they were outside. Doable.

  He glanced toward the other side of the cabin where Leah slept under the blanket. As she slept, he heard her nightmares. Her dreams were as haunted as his, living in the past--afraid to move forward, afraid to forget. Frightened of losing the drive to go on, losing the dark passion that kept them alive.

  Noise and turbulence from the descending landing gear brought Hannes out of his reverie. He closed his laptop and zipped the backpack then leaned back in the chair and released a sigh. He still wasn’t sure what to do with her. He couldn’t let her go; he didn’t want to. But taking her with him was a mistake. What was he thinking? The dead should remain at peace.

  THIRTY

  Leah sat up as the jet landed. The land beyond the runway was dark. Occasionally a pile of snow sat off to the side of the concrete. The grass was light brown.

  As the plane rolled into a hangar, Leah darted to the front of the jet. When she grabbed the compartment door latch, the plane jerked to a stop, pitching her against the wall.

  Hearing H
annes chuckle, her embarrassment angered her more. She yanked the handle to the side with no effect. She rotated the latch to the other side with same result. Dammit. Her foot kicked the door bottom, sending a sharp stab up her big toe.

  A shadow moved along the wall in front of her. Hannes reached around her shoulders and held onto the door handle. His strong chest pressed against her back. Electricity jolted through her; her breath caught in her throat. To cover her physical and mental reaction, she shoved him back.

  He stepped away. “Sorry, just trying to help, Princess.”

  She put her hand on her hip and wiped her forehead. “Will you please stop calling me that?”

  “Sure, Your Highness.” Hannes grinned.

  Leah crossed her arms. “My namesake called you a scoundrel in the movie.” She moved to the side. “But I have a phrase much more suitable.”

  “What would that be?” Hannes slid forward, turned the latch and the door popped open.

  Unruffled, Leah stepped in front of him and down the metal stairs. “I’ll let you know when you make me mad, which should be in less than five minutes.”

  At the bottom of the steps, a tall, thin, older gentleman stood with one hand on the railing and the other behind his back. A distinguished aura flowed around him. His short salt and pepper hair matched his thin manicured mustache. The stiffness in his stance and gentle smile on his face brought Alfred from Batman to mind.

  Behind him, a blue four-door car idled. Leah marched off the stairs, avoiding the stranger’s look and tromped to the car.

  Descending the steps from the front cabin, Hannes watched Leah stomp toward the vehicle. He smiled to himself. Sometimes her tantrums struck him as hysterical, especially when he had the upper hand. He stopped on the last step. “Good morning, Winston.”

  The gentleman gave a slight nod. “Good morning, Hannes.” Winston raised his brow and looked at the car. “I assume that is our guest.”

  “That’s her.” Hannes chuckled and repositioned his backpack on his shoulder.

  A grin formed on Winston’s face. “I see you have charmed her with your excellent people skills.”

  Hannes pressed his lips into a thin line. “That woman is absolutely exasperating. I have no idea what to do with her.”

  Winston remained silent. Hannes knew his companion waited for further explanation of their visitor, but he wasn’t in the mood. Looking away from Winston, he stepped off the bottom stair and headed toward the car.

  Winston turned and followed. “In the end, I am sure you will figure out how to take care of her.”

  Leah watched unfamiliar scenery whiz by the car’s backseat window. The slice of moon kept everything black and gloomy. They passed fields, forests, and a couple of houses, but no businesses or people. Escaping and finding someone to help her wasn’t an option. Her spirits sank.

  The car pulled off the paved road into a gravel marina. Turning left, headlights swept across the small harbor, briefly giving life to snow and fog covered objects before letting them fall back into darkness. They drove by a shack with “Officen” painted above the door and then turned sharply. Inching their way down a rocky slope toward the water’s edge, Leah’s pulse quickened. She hadn’t expected this.

  The waterline appeared; the car continued forward. Her wide eyes stared at black water. She gripped the seat’s edge with such force, her knuckles turned white. Oh, shit! They were going in! Leah slapped a hand over her mouth to stifle a scream. The car stopped, steeply angled to the water.

  Hannes looked over his shoulder at her and laughed. “Calm down, Princess. This isn’t going to hurt a bit.” He exited the passenger’s side door, stepped onto the water and disappeared into the fog. Her brow raised, disbelief replacing fear.

  A small two-cycle motor roared to life. Shallow waves washed onto the gravel slope. Seconds later, Hannes appeared on the water’s edge and pointed to the left. The driver released the brake and the car rolled forward.

  Her heart skipped a beat, throat constricted. She didn’t give a rat’s ass if she just witnessed a miracle, she was getting out of the car. She ripped off her seatbelt and grabbed the door handle. The front of the car dipped. A scream caught in her throat. Her arm nearly sheared off the handle, but the door didn’t open. Damn child safety locks. Frozen, she stared out the windshield, watching shapes appear from hazy darkness.

  Stepping backward, Hannes directed the car forward. On her left, an old wheelhouse, half glass, half deteriorating wooden planks, materialized. Hannes entered the booth and his hand pulled down a lever. They jerked forward with a groan of metal against metal. Leah stared through the windshield as the fog floated, then flew past them, until it disappeared.

  Around her, stretching as far as she could see, a surreal landscape hovered over a black abyss. The moon’s light rippled in the wake and backlit the scene, turning the scattered island peaks into dark silhouettes. She gazed at a strange sparkling sky with so many stars, she could never pick out the constellations.

  Leah pressed her forehead against the backseat window. The car sat on a concrete slab not much wider than the sedan. Worm-size cracks spread from one side of the ferry base to the other. The vehicle sailed safely over the water, but she still needed a deep breath to calm her jangling nerves. “Where are we going?”

  The driver replied, “To the house, miss.”

  Leah reached over the front seat and offered her hand. “I’ll introduce myself since Hannes’ manners are worse than a Neanderthal’s. I’m Leah Tomson.”

  He laughed. “I am Winston Brigham. It is a pleasure to meet you.”

  Her ears tingled with his melodious British accent.

  “I am what you call a ‘personal valet’ or ‘assistant,’ but it is more than that, really.”

  Leah chimed in. “I knew it. You’re Alfred. If not for Alfred, Bruce would lose his own ass-end.”

  Winston laughed.

  “Whose house are we going to?”

  “Hannes’ grandparent’s and parent’s island home, where he grew up. No one has lived there since his mother passed several years ago. I did not have much time to prepare the rooms, so it will probably be quite intolerable.”

  Leah shrugged. “Not a problem. You should see where I was two weeks ago. Some hard times there.”

  Winston smiled. “If I may be so bold, do you have an aversion to water?”

  Her cheeks warmed, and she slid back in the seat. “Was it that obvious?”

  “Quite.”

  She sighed. Seldom had anyone asked about her irrational worries. “I have a fear of slowly and painfully drowning, especially in a car.”

  “How horrible.”

  “Tell me about it.” She gazed at islands passing by. “It’s only one of many fears.”

  After trolling several minutes, a bright light glared in front of them. The platform aimed at a dock emerging from the fog. Hannes guided them toward a narrow slip of water between two steel beams.

  She buried her face in her hands. A slight bump issued beneath the platform, and the boat motor shut down. Winston started the car and drove off the raised platform. Hannes opened the car door, letting frigid air blow in.

  A thick layer of evergreens lined both sides of the snowy rock incline the car climbed. To the side, she noticed a cliff that had been cleared of forested area. It looked like a scenic spot to sit and watch the water. She wondered if she’d be able to find it again. Would they keep her locked in a basement prison or tied to a bed? A shiver passed through her, both good and bad. She had to keep those thoughts away.

  Reaching the top, headlights illuminated a dilapidated lean-to covering an old tractor and trailer. Rusty tools and I-beams lay scattered, partially buried in snow.

  Leah asked, “Is snow always on the ground here?”

  Winston glanced at Hannes scowling out the window, lost in his own world. Winston spoke. “Usually not this early. You have picked a rather bad time for a visit. A few days ago, twelve inches fell in the north. Drifts rose to
over ten feet. Hopefully, this small island is not as bad.”

  The car chomped its way through the thick white blanket. Ahead, an ivory house with huge picture windows peeked through a cluster of trees. Leah gawked at the sight. “It’s beautiful. Holy cow, it’s huge.”

  Winston perked up at her interest. “Hannes’ grandmother adored the Greek Revival architecture that swept Finland around the turn of the century. She especially loved the older buildings in Helsinki. You should visit there. It is a beautiful city.”

  Leah smirked. “I’ll be sure to do that.”

  The two-story house stretched sixty feet. Four dingy columns lined the outside edge of a twelve-foot concrete patio extending from a grand double-door entrance. Covering the patio, a second story balustrade with a simple, yet elegant, railed-porch overlooked the grounds.

  The car pulled past the home to a four-door attached garage parallel to the driveway, making the house’s footprint a blockish L.

  The first bay door rolled up, and Leah gaped at the immense empty space. Interior lighting only covered the first stall, keeping the other three in deep shadows. Winston shifted into park.

  She stepped out and looked back along the path they drove. Through trees, she glimpsed a red and orange horizon reflecting off the water--water that, once again, surrounded and trapped her with little means of escape.

  At least she was safe here.

  THIRTY-ONE

  Hannes opened the door leading into the house and vanished inside. Leah hurried to catch up with Winston. A small mudroom off to the right contained a washer and dryer and a long oak bench sitting along the wall. A matching shelf above the bench held a couple of knit hats, gloves and a blue plastic container with a picture of a washing machine on it.

  Winston passed under the arched opening connecting to the next room. Staying close behind him, Leah looked to her left and noted a flight of stairs hooking to the right, halfway up.