Read The Bear King's Captive: Curvy Paranormal Shape Shifter Romance Online
Authors: Milly Taiden
The Bear King's Captive: Curvy Paranormal Shape Shifter Romance
THE BEAR KING SERIES
NEW YORK TIMES and USA TODAY BESTSELLING AUTHOR
MILLY TAIDEN
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Leah Tomson has been on the run since she was a kid. Every day is a struggle to stay alive. Now turning thirty, she wonders why she’s still here. When her path crosses with a boy who’s sucked into her world, she's got someone else depending on her for the first time. She won't let him down. When she finds them trapped by a mercenary and his crew, death is imminent. She knows she’ll fail a child, again.
Commander Hannes 'Otso' Otila just finished a mission and is on his way home when his trip is disrupted by an unexpected cargo of the curvy, mouthy, and sassy type. With this luscious woman comes a boy and a lot of problems that drive him bat shit crazy. But instead of letting them go, his biggest desire, and that of his polar bear, is to keep her forever. He'll happily hold her his captive and if the moment comes, give his life for her.
A big-time drug lord wants Leah dead, and it's up to Hannes and Leah to keep her and the boy alive. That's turning out to be harder than either anticipated when his second-in-command turns on him. While Hannes protects Leah from danger, protecting his own heart from her is a lot more difficult. The burning need to have her pushes his control, but is she worth the chance of another broken heart? Hannes is about to realize no matter what he decides, his bear made a choice: Leah is his and no amount of internal struggle will change the animal's mind.
This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are fictitious or have been used fictitiously, and are not to be construed as real in any way. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales, or organizations is entirely coincidental.
Published By
Latin Goddess Press Inc.
Winter Springs Florida, 32708
http://millytaiden.com
The Bear King’s Captive
Copyright © 2016 by Milly Taiden
Cover by Willsin Rowe
Edited by: Tina Winograd
All Rights Are Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
Property of Milly Taiden
MARCH 2016
Contents
—For Tina
It’s amazing how one day someone walked into your life and you wondered how you lived without them. You’re amazing and I am thankful every day for you.
Hannes and Leah wouldn’t be here without you!
Before we start, have you signed up for my newsletter? There’s always giveaways, excerpts and tons of fun stuff going on.
As a thank you, I’ve added the first chapter of The Bear King’s Revenge, Book 2 of the Bear King Series which follows THIS book!
Also, after that, you’ll find an additional book, Wolf Fever, at the back of this book for all readers to enjoy for FREE.
She crouched in the exact spot, at the perfect angle, where the push of a button would vaporize every assassin within one hundred feet, and not touch one split-end on her head. Her finger poised, excited giddiness coursed through Leah’s body like an electric current. Sweet revenge.
Her nail tapped the D square on the keyboard. She waited for the virtual mushroom cloud, but instead, the laptop flashed to the blue screen of death. Fatal error has occurred. Game over.
“No shit, Sherlock.” Leah rubbed her dry eyes and leaned her head beside the hole in the drywall. Sometimes programming flowed like a Creamsicle in the Arizona desert. Other times, like dog poop through a swizzle stick. Tonight was the latter.
In the other room of the efficiency apartment came a knock on her door. She chewed her bottom lip. Visitors were not welcome, especially at 7:30 at night in Cleveland’s highest crime rate district. Swinging her legs off the threadbare mattress that sat on the floor, she closed her laptop and slid it between the springs and carpet, well out of sight.
She tiptoed down the hallway and eased along the front room wall, peeking around the ratty sheet covering the window. Leah let out the breath she’d been holding. A slender guy with a nicely rounded ass stood looking over the balcony at the algae-covered pool in the courtyard five stories down. Her gaze locked onto his purple patent leather shoes.
With little worry, she moved the steel baseball bat to the backside of the door, unfastened the deadbolt, but left the security chain in place. Thumping music and party noise below held the man’s attention.
“Hey. Can I help you?”
He turned with a jerk. His hands flew over his heart and he gasped. “You so scared me, deary.” His high-pitched voice made her flinch. Dammit—always the good-looking ones. He smiled. “I wanted to introduce myself.” His arm floated toward her, wrist bent. “I’m Bobaloo.”
Boba-who? He had to be joking.
Realizing the door opening was too narrow to shake hands, his face scrunched into a pout. “Oh, my.” He clasped his hands in front of his chest, smile returning. “I’m moving in next door. It’s nice to meet you.”
“Same here.” Leah’s eyes traveled down his fitted cream shirt and tight purple pants to those shoes she never would’ve thought existed outside the Wizard of Oz. Leah’s hand wiped over her lips to hide her grin. “I’m Candice.”
At the far end of the balcony, the rusted zigzag stairs groaned under someone’s heavy weight. Bobaloo perked up. “There’s another neighbor for me to meet.” His fingers wiggled at her. “I’ll be right back, Candice.”
She closed and bolted the door as he scurried away. Why couldn’t she meet Mr. Tall Dark Prince Charming instead of the new gay guy? At least she wouldn’t worry about him trying to get into her pants. Then again, after ten years of no intimacy, a little would be nice.
Leah slapped her hand on her forehead and dragged it down her face. Was she so hard up that simply seeing a good-looking guy, gay or not, sent her into a tizzy? She had to do something with her life except hide in roach-infested slums and design video games.
But after what she’d done, she could only blame herself. The past would--Bobaloo knocked on her door again. He said he’d be back, but she was hoping it’d be in a year or so. She opened the door fully.
The man staring at her--shaggy hair, surprised eyes, and thick moustache curling at the ends--who the hell had curling mustaches in this day and age?--was a long way from Bobaloo. She slammed the door shut, flipped the lock, and pushed her back against it.
A voice growled, “Open or I kick it in, señorita.” His fist smashed against the wood, sending a shockwave through the two-inch barrier. The cheap deadbolt held, but the decaying doorjamb popped and cracked.
How in the hell did this guy find her?
Leah snatched the bat and squatted against the wall behind the door. Another crash against the barrier and the upper hinge screws broke, allowing the door to tear halfway open, easily popping the poor excuse for security devices.
Still crouched, bat ready, Leah waited for the intruder’s shadow to move forward. In a lunge faster than she thought possible, the shadow rounded the door, his arms extended several feet over her head. She whipped the bat around and bashed his knees.
His scream blended with the party racket. As the shadow disappeared, dust fell on her shirt. Glancing up, she saw a tranq dart buried in the wall where her chest would’ve been if she were standing.
Leah sprang toward the man writhing on the floor. The hand with the gun popped up and she swung as if playing T-ball. Bone crunched as the weapon flew from his fingers. He writhed into a ball, protecting the ruined hand, then with his other pulled another gun from inside his bulky black jacket. This weapon, lengthened with a silencer, housed no dart. Leah dove to the side. A dime-sized hole appeared in the wall by her side.
Why was he trying to kill her? It made no sense. If he succeeded, he’d get nothing. She wasn’t sticking around to find out. Another silenced shot chased her through the door to the outside terrace. She prayed he couldn’t shoot with his left hand as she ran for the stairwell. Even though she was proud of her self-image and abundant curves, she could see where being a toothpick at this second would come in handy. Not that she didn’t keep in pretty good shape for her big size, but a little more speed would do amazing things for her at that moment.
At the zigzag stairs at the terrace’s end, Leah grabbed the railing and flung herself down three steps. The glass pane by her head shattered into razor blades. She stumbled onto the landing to the fourth level. With a glance over the railing, she realized these steps ended in the open courtyard. Only scroungy shrubs alongside the pool offered a place to hide. On the third floor landing, she clutched the railing and slid around to the next steps.
A bullet zinged off the rail, clipping her hand. Fear she’d not felt for twenty years crashed on her.
Halfway down the next flight, she looked up. Survival instincts took control. A shot of adrenaline filled her body and mind. From the second stop, she leapt onto the railing and launched into the air. No time to be afraid of breaking a bone, the fear of death was much greater.
Mid-flight her brain caught up with her actions. She sailed over the crumbling walkway, headed for the scraggly bushes. Arms wrapped around her head, Leah tore through the thicket, crashed onto tile, and rolled into the moss-covered pool.
The shockingly cold water jolted her body. Approaching the twelve-foot-deep mark, she stared at the coffin-shaped hole in the algae wall floating above her.
A shadow covered the opening, leaving her in a murky chasm. A woman’s muffled scream pierced the water. A stabbing pain ripped through Leah’s chest. Air! Her body thrashed in the weightless environ. What if he was waiting, ready to put a bullet in her head? She had no choice. Leah aimed for the hole and kicked.
Her body continued to sink. Shit! Her lungs burned. Her mouth filled with the putrid water as it sought air. She stroked with her arms, but her waterlogged clothes dragged. She frequently dreamed of death meeting her underwater, but not in a pool.
She erupted from the green surface, gasping, bobbing under before latching onto the pool’s side. Leah coughed and flung the green slime from her face. He was gone.
Heavy footsteps echoed through the breezeway, headed toward the parking lot. A car door slammed shut then tires squealed. Someone pulled away from the handicapped parking spot. Still heaving, she rested her forehead on her hands gripping the tiled edge.
“Honey, you all right?”
Leah whipped her head around. Standing at the end of the courtyard, a woman in knee-high stiletto boots, holding a cigarette, gawked at her. Leah lifted herself out of the water and collapsed onto the ground. “Yeah, I’m fine.” She rolled onto her knees, then stood and shivered in the cool October breeze. “Just a fight with my drunk boyfriend. That’s all.”
The woman puffed on her cigarette. “Want me to call the cops?”
“No!” Leah’s kneejerk reaction to the question made the woman frown. “I mean, he’s gone and I’m just wet. No need to stir up the whole complex, right?”
Smoke rolled out the woman’s nose and mouth. “Whatever you say, honey.” A door on the first floor opened. Lewd party noise dumped out along with an arguing couple. Others with beers in hand tottered behind the two, cheering on the fight. The smoking woman followed the sidewalk to the apartment.
More party goers filled the courtyard, making Leah feel a little safer. He wouldn’t dare return with so many witnesses. She climbed the stairs to the fifth level, carefully toeing around the glass shards on the top flight.
In her dark bedroom shadows, she stripped out of cold clothes and donned a striped turtleneck and jeans. A hot shower would be nice, but she didn’t want to waste any luck she had remaining. She grabbed the backpack from the closet and tossed it onto the mattress.
Leah knew why they hunted her, but she’d never regret her actions. How did this guy get so close? She covered her tracks completely, or so she thought. Never used her real name or stayed in one place too long.
She gathered her few possessions, including a beat-up, faded photo she’d carried since a child in her inside coat pocket.
Leah would get justice for her loved ones, even if she had to run forever.
The odds of staying alive are slim when a powerful drug lord has a $10 million bounty on your head.