Bears & Beauties - Complete (18 page)

Anthony let out a breath and groaned. Then, biting his lip, he said, “I can’t.”

***

JULIE COULDN’T BELIEVE IT. For a moment, she had let herself go. She’s pushed her inhibitions aside, embraced the wild and intangible feelings she was experiencing, and had given into the man. She’d let him experience a part of her that she’d never shared with anyone else. As hot and random as it had seen, to Julie it had been
intimate
. It meant something.

Working alongside the man for a week, she’d had to struggle to keep her hands off him. She’d fought to keep her eyes from wandering, to keep her brain in check. But there was something about him. She just couldn’t get enough of him. He was utterly alluring, and it haunted her. At night, she’d lie in bed and just think about being with him, embracing him,
having
him. And, for a single fleeting moment, she’d given into the fantasy.

And now?

Now she just wanted to vomit.

Anthony Drake was a killer. A murderer. And she had kissed him. She’d let him in. She’d almost given herself to him.

He just stood there, staring at her with sad eyes and slumped shoulders, and she couldn’t do anything but look at him with disgust. He hadn’t even tried explaining himself, explaining the photo. He just seemed to accept what was in front of him and said nothing.

Anthony shook his head and grabbed the photo off the desk, lifting it in front of him as if trying to fully comprehend the image himself. That’s when Julie noticed the lettering on the back of the picture. Someone had written a message back there, and Julie’s gut told her that it wouldn’t be pleasant.

“Flip it over,” she stammered, fighting back the bile rising in her throat.

Anthony lifted an eyebrow at her then did as instructed. His jaw clenched when he saw the writing and it looked like his shoulders slumped even further.

“What does it say?” Julie asked through grit teeth.

Rather than read it himself, Anthony turned the picture around and held it up where Julie could see it. She took a step forward in order to better make out the words and felt her stomach sink as soon as her brain caught up with her eyes.

More where this came from. $500,000,000 or I go public. Keep quiet and wait for the call.

Holy shit. Someone was blackmailing Anthony. Julie couldn’t hold it in anymore. She ran and grabbed the wastebasket from the corner of the room, leaned over, and vomited.

A shadow filled up the room around Julie and she felt Anthony’s hands on her shoulders, reaching for her hair to hold it back. She swung around at him, slapping him across the face and forcing him back a few steps.

“Don’t you fucking touch me,” she hissed, glaring into his eyes. A wave of hurt flashed over Anthony’s face, and Julie felt a twang of guilt that she couldn’t explain. The man was a murderer. Why in the world should she feel guilty for getting him away from her? More than that, why did she still feel strangely comfortable being in the same room as him? Despite her mind racing and telling her to flee, Julie’s instincts told her to stay. Everything in her wanted to stay, to hear him out, and to help him fix the problem.

She was a businesswoman. A fixer. It was literally her job to clean up messes her clients made. And this one was no different. The information, if it went public, would ruin Anthony, Dare International, and, most likely, her own reputation. That was something that she couldn’t let happen. Still, she needed to get out. To get some fresh air. To think things over and decide what to do.

“You,” she said, trying to regain her composure and work through her breathing exercises. “Get your story straight. Do whatever you can to figure out who sent you that photograph. And, worst case scenario, find a way to get half a billion dollars together.”

Julie stormed over to the office door, taking a moment to grab her bag off the coffee table.

“Where are you going?” Anthony said, reaching out with desperation in his voice.

“Home,” she told him. “But I’ll be back. I’ve got a job to do, and I don’t plan on becoming a quitter now.”

With that, Julie opened the door and walked out, leaving Anthony Drake to sulk in silence behind her.

3

HE WASN’T SURE who had sent the photograph, but Anthony was damned sure that he was going to find out. Despite what Julie must have thought, he wasn’t a murderer. He wasn’t a cold blooded killer. And he needed to prove it.

Had she given him the chance, he would have explained it to her. If he’d just had time to figure out how to tell her…how to reveal to her his deepest and darkest secrets, he would have told her everything. Instead, though, he’d just stood there, dumbfounded and silent as she marched out of his office. To be honest, Anthony didn’t blame her. In her shoes, he probably would have done the same thing. Still, that didn’t stop the hurt he felt after being scolded and rebuked by his mate.

And that’s exactly what she was. Anthony knew it more than he knew he needed air to breathe. Julie Flanders was his mate, and he’d been lying to her. She’d asked him for his secrets, to lay out his deepest and darkest and most hidden flaws. And he’d refused. He’d flat out lied and told her that he didn’t have any. Anthony wondered if telling her would have changed anything, if it would have prevented her reaction. She’d literally gotten sick over what she’d seen. And that, more than anything, is what hurt Anthony to the core.

Shaking his head in an attempt to dismiss the painful thoughts, Anthony went to work re-examining the photograph and message, searching for any clues as to who had sent it. He studied the image, looking for shadows, trying to get a grasp on the angle from which it had been taken. He struggled through his memory of the event, searching for any recollection of someone who could have seen what had happened, someone who could have known and understood the immensity of the moment they’d captured on film. Try as he might, though, Anthony couldn’t figure it out.

He’d spent over a decade running away from that moment, fighting to keep it out of his memories. And now, just as he’d settled into a new role, just as he was getting his feet back under him, and just as he’d reached the brink of happiness, the terrible moment had come barreling back into his life. There had to be something there. Someone knew who he was, obviously, and realized that they could get money out of him. Maybe it was an old enemy then? But who?

It wasn’t as if he’d gotten along well in his clan, after all. In fact, he’d been shunned from the moment he’d been adopted. His mother had protected him fiercely, but that didn’t stop everyone else from making his life hell. And once his adoptive mother had passed away he’d been fair game. They’d even gone so far as to pit him solely against the region’s most powerful wolf pack, abandoning him to fend for himself or die trying. All because he didn’t belong. All because he hadn’t been born as one of
them
.

Anthony took a seat behind his desk, planted his elbows on the desktop, and threw his face into his hands. The more he thought about the past, the more the memories rose to the surface. He’d thought that they were behind him, that the horrible clan life was just a distant thought. They were the last fleeting instances of a nightmare he’d once had, nothing more. Except, now, they were the only thing he could focus on.

Anthony’s massive shoulders shook violently as the aggravated tears started to fall against his will. No matter how strong he’d become over the years, he still felt like the poor, defenseless cub who’d been abandoned in the clan’s territory. It was agony to remember it all again. All the pain, the abuse, the
hunger
.

“Dammit!” Anthony shouted, slamming his fist down on the desk. Anyone could have sent the package. And he had no idea who they were or how to get to them. And putting together half a billion dollars wasn’t exactly something he could just do willy-nilly, otherwise he would just to brush the problem under the rug. In fact, he wanted nothing more than to take the easy route. To just get it over with and put it behind him. But, deep down, Anthony knew that paying off the blackmailer wouldn’t be the end of it. There would never be an end to it.

Once, maybe, he thought that there could be. But that notion had vanished the same moment he first laid his eyes on the photograph sitting on his desk. His violent past had caught up to him, and it was going to destroy whatever future he’d hoped to build.

***

THE AIR CONDITIONING was running full blast as Julie paced the hallway in her apartment, still sweating from running up the stairwell. She hadn’t bothered waiting on the elevator, instead opting to get to her room as fast as possible. She needed to be alone. To think. To
breathe
.

The world was crumbling. She didn’t understand why or how, she just knew that it was. She’d taken on Anthony as a client as a favor. She was determined to help him repair his faltering business. She’d even gone so far as to fall for the man.

Wait.

Had she?

Julie stopped in her tracks, her eyes staring blankly at the wall before her. Had she fallen for Anthony Drake? And, if so, how was that even possible? She couldn’t deny the chemistry between them, the unbridled sexual tension that filled the air of whatever room they were in. But love? Surely not…

Julie shook her head, trying to dismiss the thought. Her emotions must have gotten the best of her. She still barely knew the man. Yes, she lusted after him. Very much so. In fact, had his secretary not buzzed over the intercom and interrupted them, Julie was confident that their passionate embrace would have turned into something much more enjoyable. But there was a difference between craving a man and being in love with him, right?

Throwing her hands in the air in mock-disbelief, Julie walked into her kitchen and grabbed a wineglass. She retrieved an open bottle from her fridge and filled the glass to the rim, then took the wineglass into her hand and downed it in one long gulp. With everything she’d just experienced, Julie reckoned that a little alcohol couldn’t hurt. In fact, it might help take some of the edge off the ever-growing migraine that had crept up on her since fleeing Anthony’s office.

Grabbing the bottle and glass, Julie made her way to the couch in her living room and sank down into its soft cushions. She lay there for a long moment, letting the alcohol take effect as she refilled the glass again and began sipping at it.

Anthony Drake was in her head. She couldn’t shake the thought of him, no matter how buzzed she got. She couldn’t get over the way his broad shoulders looked in his white-button downs, or how massive his forearms were once his sleeves were rolled up. She couldn’t stop thinking about the way his pecs and abs seemed to ripple beneath his shirt, barely visible between the buttons themselves. She couldn’t stop thinking of his low, growly voice, or the way his green eyes danced when they peered into her own. More than that, she couldn’t stop thinking of how defeated he’d looked when she left him.

Julie frowned at that. She should have given him time to explain. In hindsight, she knew that he couldn’t be a murderer. What she’d seen in the photo obviously wasn’t as bad as she’d thought.

He said he couldn’t deny killing the man
, Julie thought. But that could mean anything. It could have been an accident. It could have been self-defense. The options were basically endless, but she hadn’t given him so much as a second to explain himself. She’d just scolded and abandoned him, leaving him there to wallow in the misery of the moment.

With a sigh, Julie emptied the rest of her wineglass and set it on the nearby coffee table along with the near-empty bottle. Her thoughts were growing more sluggish by the minute, but she soon came to a realization. She had to go back. She had to find a way to help Anthony, to get him out of whatever mess he’d somehow gotten himself in. It was more than just her job, she realized. She wanted to help him. At the very least, she wanted to understand.

Ignoring a wave of disorientation, Julie stood up and headed to the door. She needed to get back to Anthony’s office before he left for the day, and she wasn’t sure how much longer that would be. Half-stumbling her way down the hall, Julie grabbed her bag and headed for her apartment’s exit. Much to her surprise, upon opening the door, she found herself face-to-face with a tall dark-haired man with a sharp nose and an olive-toned skin.

“Hi there, honey,” the man snarled. “My boss wants to have a word with you.”

Before Julie could so much as scream, the man grabbed the collar and jerked her out of the doorway, a large knife pressed against her throat.

4

THE PHONE RANG, startling Anthony out of his sorrow. For a long moment, he just stared at the device, willing it to explode. Hoping that the nightmare would be just that, a nightmare. On the third ring, though, Anthony knew he had to answer it.

“Hello?” Anthony said, flipping open the small flip phone and pulling it to his ear.

“Hello there, old friend,” a familiar voice responded, causing the Anthony’s bear to jerk to the surface. Memories of the wolf filling his mind. He should have known. “I see you received my gift. How did you like the photograph? Did I get your good side?”