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Authors: Maria Amor

Her Bear In Mind

BOOK: Her Bear In Mind
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HER BEAR

IN MIND  

A Paranormal Shifter Romance

 

 

MARIA AMOR

 

Copyright
©2015 by  Maria Amor

All rights reserved.

 

About This Book

 

When investigative reporter Sierra began looking into Joe Basnight,  the governor of her state, she had no idea the truth would be so shocking.

 

She initially thought he might be a crook but the reality is something incredibly different.

 

Joe Basnight is not just the governor of her state he is also the governor of a community of Bear Shifters that reside within the state. He is known as the “Alpha” and now Sierra knows his secret there are two options.

 

One is death, the second option is to become his mate.

 

Whilst Joe wants to go with the second option it seems there are others within the community that would prefer option one and they will stop at NOTHING to make it happen...

 

READ ON TO FIND OUT WHAT HAPPENS NEXT!

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Table Of Contents

 

C
HAPTER 1

C
HAPTER 2

C
HAPTER 3

C
HAPTER 4

C
HAPTER 5

C
HAPTER 6

C
HAPTER 7

C
HAPTER 8

C
HAPTER 9

C
HAPTER 10

C
HAPTER 11

C
HAPTER 12

C
HAPTER 13

C
HAPTER 14

 

CHAPTER 1

 

“Ms. Christie? The Governor will see you now.”

 

Sierra Christie took a moment to put on her most nonthreatening smile. She’d spent two hours getting dressed for the interview this morning, rejecting one outfit after the next, before finally settling on a pale gray pencil skirt that nicely accentuated her waist and a flowery blouse showcasing no small amount of cleavage. She topped the look off with a double dose of mascara and baby pink lipstick and left her hair down in a tumble of
blond
curls. The look said,
girly
, i
nnocent
, and maybe even
easy
. It said,
I’m here for a meaningless fluff piece on your charity work, Governor Basnight. Certainly not to question you about a scandal that could end your career and land me my next promotion. You don’t have a thing to worry about.

 

Smile plastered in place, Sierra pushed open the imposing oak door and stepped into the governor’s office.

 

The room within was not quite what she expected. No crystal decanters of overpriced liquor on the sideboard. The walls were devoid of the usual array of commendations and smiling photos of himself shaking hands with people more important than him. Instead, most of one wall was taken up by a massive dry erase board. Tacky, yes, but clearly practical. It was covered in barely legible notes on upcoming meetings, proposals, and bills. It was not unlike the one Sierra herself kept in her apartment, currently covered in color-coded notes on the man sitting in front of her.

 

The rest of the walls in this office were devoted to a few nice photographs of the woods, a calendar, and, of course, the large windows showcasing a panoramic view of Olympia below. The desk, far from the usual neat and commanding status symbol most politicians have, was a mess of papers and post-it notes. This, Sierra decided, was an office that was actually
used.
Governor Basnight did not use his position just to have a few drinks and knock off early to play golf.

 

Before she could let herself be too impressed, she reminded herself he was also, in all likelihood, using his position to embezzle great sums of money.

 

The reality check was warranted, because if the office hadn’t already disarmed her, the man behind the desk would have done it.

 

He was staggeringly handsome. Of course, he always looked that way in photographs and TV appearances, but somehow she had still expected him to show some fault lines up close. But Joe Basnight had none of those flaws expected of a man of 46. His button-down shirt barely concealed his obviously muscular frame. Sierra briefly wondered where he bought dress shirts big enough for that barrel-sized chest (no doubt he had them custom made with his ill-gotten gold). His almost black hair fell across his face, threatening to obscure his similarly dark eyes. He had a deep golden tan that could have only come from a lot of time outdoors or cooking in a tanning bed. Sierra was 5’9 and currently teetering on 3” heals, and yet when he stood, he must have loomed over her by at least a foot.

 

He gave her his best politician smile and held out his hand.

 

“You must be Ms. Christie from The Post. So nice to meet you.”

 

His hands were rough.

 

“Please,” she implored him, “Call me Sierra.”

 

He quickly rearranged the stacks of papers to clear a space on the desk in front of her as she sat down.

 

“Sierra.” He repeated with another campaign winning smile. “Like the Sierra Nevada Mountains?”

 

“You’d have to ask my mother.”

 

“Well Sierra, you can call me Joe.”

 

First name basis already, but it didn’t surprise her. Joe won his election on his
everyman
demeanor. With a smile, a warm handshake, and a plain-clothes look, he had waded in streams with fishermen, picked grapes at vineyards, and tromped through the woods with local hunters. People loved
Governor Joe
for his approachability and blue-collar quality.

 

“Joe.” She repeated. “It is great to meet you in person.”

 

“So you’re here to discuss the Camp Basnight program?”

 

“That’s right,” she lied easily. “Why don’t you tell me more about it?”

 

She had her iPad at the ready to feign taking notes as he regaled her with his latest charity project. Half summer camp, half preparatory school, Camp Basnight was a free four-week summer program available to underprivileged children with promising grades and good standardized test scores.

 

“Kids today spend so much time with their eyes glued to those things.” He waved vaguely at her iPad.                “I want to give them a chance to have fun without the screen time. Play outdoors. Fish, hike, rock climb. No television, no computers. These kids will play in the dirt. And get an education too. We’re hiring the best in astronomy, botany, marine biology, and entomology. ”

 

“Sounds impressive. It also sounds expensive.”

 

“It is,” he agreed. “But not a dime in tax payer money, I can assure you. All contributions for the project are coming from myself and private donors.”

 

Careful now
, Sierra cautioned herself.

 

“I hear your charity auction was quite the successful fundraiser.”

 

“Better than we could have hoped.--We raised over 85% of our goal.”

 

“Yes,” she said, glancing down at her notes. “The project’s budgeted at ten million dollars.”

 

“That’s right.”

 

“Budgets can be tricky, though. It looks like you’ve already purchased the land for the project and hired a contractor to begin construction. Yet, you’ve already spent eight million dollars. May I ask what the rest of the money went towards?”

 

Just for a moment, his smile slipped.

 

“You must be mistaken,” he said. “Our budget is right on course.”

 

“Not according to this.” She showed him the bank statement copy on her iPad. “Most of the money has already been withdrawn. Where did it go?”

 

His smile vanished as he read over the bank statement.

 

“Where did you get this?”

 

“From a friend.” She said simply. If you can call the broke teller she had bribed with almost a week’s pay, a friend.

 

“Where did the money go, Joe?”

 

Joe tried his best to smile again, but this time it didn’t quite meet his dark eyes.

 

“You should recheck your sources, Ms. Christie. This is obviously a fake statement.”

 

“My sources are-”

 

“I’m afraid that’s all the time I can spare for you. I have another appointment.”

 

“You don’t have another appointment, Joe. Your secretary has you scheduled for this interview for half an hour. It’s only been ten minutes.”

 

He paused, dropping all pretenses now.

 

“You read my schedule.”

 

“It was on your secretary’s desk. I just happened to glance at it.”

 

“No. It’s on my secretary’s computer.”

 

There was a cold fury behind his eyes now that Sierra didn’t like at all. But far be it from her to let this man intimidate her. She leaned back in her chair casually.

 

“You should encourage her to lock her computer screen when she goes to the bathroom. There’s no telling what someone might find on there. I wonder what else you’re hiding.”

 

Joe took a deep breath, regaining his composure, and stood up.

 

“Ms. Christie-”

 

“Please, Joe, call me Sierra.”

 

“Sierra, it’s time for you to go now. I’ll have security see you out.”

 

She stood and smiled at him.

 

“Do you really think I require an escort, Joe?”

 

“Yes.” He dialed security, giving her a look of annoyance mixed with grudging respect. “Apparently, you do.”

 

 

*

Sierra let herself into her apartment. It was a modest two bedroom decorated with a few photographs and a plant her mother gave her as a housewarming gift which she never seemed to remember to water. The mostly unused kitchen led into a spacious living area with an overstuffed sofa and a few bookshelves. Thanks to her artist roommate, Molly, almost everything had flecks of paint on it here and there. Sierra had learned long ago to keep anything precious in her room.

 

Merlot in one hand, paintbrush in the other, Molly was standing barefoot over a half-finished painting of a wildly colored tree. She had moved the canvas from the nearby easel and laid it on the ground. Her frizzy red hair was tied up with a pair of chopsticks.

 

“Hey.” she greeted her, without looking up. “How was your thrilling expose interview?”

 

Sierra stepped carefully around the prone painting and helped herself to the open wine bottle on the kitchen counter as she kicked off her high heels.

 

“I had two security guards walk me to my car.”

 

“Seriously?” Molly asked, grinning.

 

Sierra poured her wine into a chipped glass.

 

“They didn’t even validate my parking.”

 

“Those bastards!”

 

Sierra moved over to stand next to Molly and stared down at the half-finished purple and teal tree.

 

“Why is the painting on the ground?” she asked.

 

Molly swayed slightly as she stared down, sloshing her wine.

 

“I think it speaks to me this way.”

 

“I think the wine is speaking to you, sweetie, “Sierra said, taking the wine glass out of Molly’s hand.

 

“That’s a possibility

, Molly said. She gave the painting a light kick, sending it sliding across the apartment floor in a manner Sierra was certain would horrify Molly’s publicist. It came to a stop at the foot of Sierra’s white message board. Molly tucked the paintbrush behind one freckled ear and flopped onto the couch. Sierra sat down next to her and sipped her
Merlot
.

 

“So,” Molly inquired, “Other than that, how’d it go?”

 

Sierra preceded to regale her with the morning’s disastrous events.

 

“But you haven’t told me the most important part,” Molly interjected.

 

“Which is?”

 

Molly grinned.

 

“Is he as hot in person as he is on TV?”

 

Sierra scowled.

 

“What he is, is arrogant. And cagey.”

 

Molly just stared in anticipation.

 

“Yes!” Sierra exclaimed in exasperation. “He’s gorgeous! If you’re into slimy politicians.”

 

“I knew it!” Molly said gleefully, snatching up her wine again. “I bet he’s got really thick curly hair on his chest that just makes you want to run your fingers though it and pull till he begs for mercy.”

 

“Molly, sweetie, you really should cut back on your wine consumption.”

 

Molly shrugged. “Sobriety brings only crappy, over-analyzed art. And awkward social interactions.”

 

“Right.” Sierra replied. “Because listening to you rhapsodize about Governor Joe’s hypothetical chest hair is not at all awkward.”

 

“He really is up to no good, huh?”

 

“He is definitely up to no good.” Sierra assured her. “I just don’t know how, or why, or have any definitive proof yet.”

 

“So how are you gonna get him?” Molly asked.

 

BOOK: Her Bear In Mind
6.41Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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