The Bear King's Captive: Curvy Paranormal Shape Shifter Romance (18 page)

THIRTY-FOUR

From the dark wooden chest in her bedroom, she pulled out a pair of jeans and thick socks. None of the drawers held any shirts or sweaters. She looked at the immense armoire against the far wall. Maybe in there.

She stood in front of the massive doors and remembered a book she read as a child about a magical wardrobe leading into another world. If she were to picture that armoire, this would be the image.

She slowly opened the doors, not knowing if to expect old or new. She laughed at her silliness. Colorful coordinates, sweaters, and outfits filled the interior. At the end of the row, a fluffy winter coat hung on a thick wooden hanger. Stacked along the bottom board, shoes to match each outfit sat ready to wear. The gamut ran from pink slippers to tall, wooly snow boots.

Was all of this for her? Nobody ever did things out of the goodness in their hearts. But something struck her as odd. If Hannes had plans to do away with her, then why buy so many clothes?

Had he changed his mind and decided to keep her as a hostage, maybe keep her as his own personal toy? Could that be so bad? Yes. She’d prefer to be given the choice to stay. The bacon sandwich churned in her stomach. Shaking her head, she took a deep breath. Positive thoughts. Time to live, here and now. No fear or regret.

After donning all the clothes and the thick winter coat, she felt like a clothes-bound robot, unable to bend over or let her arms hang down at her sides. The only other items she needed were a hat and gloves. She remembered seeing some on the shelf in the mudroom.

She swished out the bedroom door and down the stairs to the room between the kitchen and garage. Rising onto her toes, she grabbed a dusty fluorescent orange hat and a pair of green, man-sized gloves. Crossing under the archway, she walked back into the kitchen and glanced toward the window. The bacon grease container sat in her line of sight. She stopped. Was Winston serious about that stuff protecting the skin?

Stuffed in bulky clothes, she waddled over. He seemed so straitlaced and proper, especially when she accidentally insulted their traditions. Never had she heard any such stories about bacon grease, but she never lived in a place with arctic weather, either.

Looking around to make sure no one was watching, she slid the container close and took off the lid. The hardened grease looked like thick hand cream with brown floaties. She stuck her finger in and scooped out a tip full. She spread the small amount on her nose like the zinc oxide sunblock she used at the beach. At least it smelled good, if you liked bacon.

Her forehead always burned in the summer, so she shoveled out another fingertip full and smeared it under her bangs. Now that she’d gone this far, might as well protect her cheeks and chin. After covering her entire face, she put the lid back on and slid the container against the wall.

She swished past the stairs, through the sheet-covered formal living room, and into the foyer. The main entrance resembled the rest of the stunning house with statues, artwork and marble flooring. She unlocked and opened one of the doors and stepped onto the columned porch.

The cold air invigorated her. A happy childhood memory floated to her mind: she and her little sister jumping as far as they could off the front porch. They laid their heads where their feet landed then dragged their arms and legs side to side to make a snow angel.

By putting their head where the footprints were, then no tracks led up to the imprint--as if the angel magically appeared in the snow. The only problem was they never could jump all the way back onto the porch without leaving prints behind.

Leah laughed at the recollection. She felt a twinge of homesickness. Not now. Now was time for an angel. She stepped off the porch and sank to her mid shins. “Whoa!” She wind milled her arms and leaned to the side to regain her balance. Stabilized, she took another step and another until she was a couple of yards from the house.

She looked around and breathed deeply. The landscape lifted her spirits. Gleaming snow and glittery icicles sparkled as the sun’s indirect heat did little to melt them. Everything glistened clean and white. Somewhat how she expected Heaven to look.

The thought of not being a “stuffy, respectable” adult as society dictated made her grin. She longed to be a kid again, just for a little while. She held her arms out and let out a laughing squeal as she fell backward into the deep snow, letting cheerful childhood memories rush back.

Winston sat behind the dark wood desk in the library. He flipped through papers and deeds remaining in the house. Hearing the front doors open, he looked up. How odd for Hannes to go out those doors. Maybe he was going down to the boathouse. Winston looked at his papers. He lifted his head again. Was that a screeching noise? He listened intently for a few more seconds. Nothing. He shook his head.

Hannes entered the room holding a box of papers. “Win, have you come across anything about a trust for Mom’s decedents?”

Winston jerked up his head. “Didn’t you just go out the front door?”

Hannes looked at him. “Obviously not.”

“If not you…” Hearing barking, snarling sounds outside, both men turned toward the windows. Bolting around the far side of the house, Hannes’ attack dogs tore through the snow.

THIRTY-FIVE

The sound of the snarling dogs stopped Winston’s heart. Hannes dropped the box of papers and shot out the room, Winston close behind. Winston’s brain envisioned their mysterious guest splayed on red snow with her face gashed and throat ripped out.

Perkele! Why didn’t he or Hannes remember to tell her about the dogs? Screams came from outside. They were too late!

Hannes threw open the doors, ran out onto the patio and skidded to a stop. Instead of a bloody horror scene, the snowy sight made Winston explode into laughter. Lying on the ground, Leah screamed and laughed, while the two dogs furiously licked her face. She tried to push them away, but they whipped their heads from her hands and nuzzled back to her face.

Winston took a deep breath and rolled out another howling laugh. Hannes threw him a cross look and stormed back inside. Winston laughed even harder. Hannes might be mad, but Winston saw the terror in his eyes when realizing the girl’s danger.

Winston gained control over his laughter. “Tule!” Immediately, the dogs trotted to his side. “Istu!” Both dogs obediently sat.

Leah flopped her arms out to her sides. “Thank you, God.” She rolled onto her stomach and raised her head. “It’s about time. Do you know how bad dog slobber smells? Ugh! And now it’s all over my face.”

Winston laughed again. “I have not seen anything that funny in years.”

Leah smiled sideways at him. “Yeah, thanks. Hannes said that once, too. You must’ve had an extremely boring life before I came along.”

His laugh quieted to a snicker. What did she know about Hannes? Surely not everything or she wouldn’t be here. Leah pushed herself up and stumbled toward the porch.

Winston slowly shook his head. “The dogs have never reacted that way to anyone.”

Leah wobbled, breathing heavily, and looked at him. “What way would that be?”

Looking down at the silent dogs, he thought how to continue without scaring her. “They are well trained attack dogs. I have seen the result before, and I pray never to see it again.” He scratched the head of one of the dogs and then looked at her. “But you, they only licked, and quite fervently, I might add.”

Leah smiled. He saw a mischievous twinkle in her eye when she knelt down in front of the dogs. She sat back on her heels and admired the animals. “They’re so pretty. What kind are they.”

Winston leaned against one of the massive columns supporting the upper balustrade. “They are Karelian Bear Dogs. Great hunters and very protective of their masters.”

Leah reached toward one of the dogs -- then froze. “May I pet them or will they rip my arm off?”

He laughed. “By what I witnessed, these boys are not likely to hurt you. Just the opposite, I suspect.”

Leah scratched their ears, rubbed their scruffs and coddled their heads. Both dogs lapped up the attention. She looked up at Winston. “What were the words you said to call them?”

He squatted to their level. “Tule means come, and we slap the side of our leg for a visual sign. Istu means sit and we extend an arm out to the front, with the palm facing the dog.” He showed her the signals.

Gathering both dogs into her arms, she rubbed both furry bodies at once. Now and then, one licked her face and she wiped the slobber onto her coat. “I think they’re used to me now. May we walk around for a while?”

Winston looked at the falling lean-to and barns on the other side of the driveway. “I would advise you stay away from the buildings. They do not look safe. You can go down to the boathouse. But be careful of the water.”

Leah stood. “Where’s that?”

He pointed to a break in the trees on the other side of the yard. “There is a trail leading to it. You will see it quickly. I have not been down there since we arrived. When you return, let me know the dock and boathouse’s condition.

“There is also the cliff. It has an absolutely fantastic view over the water. From the second story front windows you can watch the sun rise. That is straight behind you.”

Leah looked over her shoulder to see a clear path through the trees straight to the cliff. It had a rather nice view from ground level also.

She walked several steps away. The dogs whimpered and whined but remained obedient. She turned around. “May I call them?”

Winston nodded.

“Tule!” Leah slapped the side of her leg and the dogs took off full speed. For a second, Winston saw fear in her eyes, but it vanished when they slowed. She smiled. “That’s pretty cool.” She turned toward the path to the boathouse, and they traipsed off.

Winston called out, “Come in before dark. Dinner will be ready soon.”

She lifted an arm to acknowledge him.

He watched them trudge through the snow. Why was this girl here? She was full of life and too young to serve any purpose of Hannes. He would make sure of that!

Re-entering the library, Winston was not surprised to see Hannes quietly standing in front of the window. In the corner of the pane, Winston glimpsed Leah and the dogs entering the trees.

“Very interesting young lady, wouldn’t you agree?”

Mumbling, Hannes turned from the window.

Winston watched him. “What was that?”

Hannes stooped to pick up the papers and box he dropped earlier. “She shouldn’t be here.” He straightened and left the room.

Leah and the dogs trekked through the trees. She didn’t see a path, but spied a quaint building that looked more like a boat shack than a boathouse. She rotated the latch barring the door. A loud creak grabbed the dogs’ attention, and they almost knocked her down trying to get in.

She stepped through the doorway onto a long, narrow deck. Dust and spider webs covered everything. Seeing the water two feet in front of her, she pressed against the wall and grabbed a partially pulled nail. She wasn’t prepared for the water to be so close.             

Tied to a sturdy pier, an impressive powerboat with enclosed passenger accommodations bobbed in time with the flowing water. Her mouth gaped. Probably cost a fortune and needed a nautical engineering degree to drive.

On the wall to the far right, rusty fishing gear, frayed nets, and line hung from hooks and bolts. Thick webs covered them now, but at one time, someone lovingly cared for them. On the deck floor beneath the equipment, flattened rafts and inner tubes lay lifeless. Leah pictured a sweet little Hannes with the inner tube around his waist, jumping off the end of the dock. An immediate bout of laughter seized her.

The dogs sniffed all they wanted and left the building. Leah followed. She took a couple of steps onto the dock extending from the side of the shack. The water dazzled her sight. Red and gold sunlight bounced off rippling waves, turning the surface into a million tiny mirrors.

The wind blew much stronger here than at the tree-protected house. She needed more bacon grease if she wanted to stay down here. She headed back up the hill. “Tule!”

The dogs trotted to her side. They stood tall enough for her to rub their heads while they walked. She looked down at them. “I didn’t ask Winston what your names are. Knowing the creativity of your master, he probably calls you One and Two.”

She stopped and knelt. She cradled one of the dogs’ faces. “I will call you Pentago because that’s one of my favorite games.” She scooted over to the other dog and took his face into her hands. He licked her face. She pulled her head back and laughed, but he was relentless. She stood to escape his slobber. Her decision was made. “Okay. You’ve just named yourself Sir Lixalot.” She rubbed his head and moved forward to explore the rest of the island, maybe finding a way off in the process.

THIRTY-SIX

After an hour in the snow, a frozen Leah dragged into the mudroom then up to her room. In dry clothes, she walked into the kitchen and inhaled nostalgic and new aromas. She passed the breakfast table where Hannes sat and reached for a barstool.

She liked the way her winter-white pants let her easily slide onto the stool. The high waist and low-slung belt emphasized her waist, showing off her full hips and bust. Under the cropped jacket, she boldly let a black silk chemise peek out. She lifted her chin and confidently crossed one leg over the other, hooking her black three-inch heel on the stool’s lower brass ring.

“Well, Princess, it’s nice to see you finally dressed appropriately.”

Leah was not going to let him ruin her good mood. “Thank you. It’s nice to have more than two items to choose from.” She rotated the stool to face Hannes. “By the incredible styles and perfect sizes, I’m sure you had no part in the selection process.” She beamed at him; he glared back.

Hannes started to speak. From the kitchen, the referee called time-out. “Both of you children, put a sock in it.”

Leah stuck her nose in the air and pivoted her barstool to face the kitchen. “That smells delicious, Winston. What is it?”

He lifted the lid on a tall chrome pot and dished out servings to three plates. “This is our first true meal as a welcome home special. We have stuffed cabbage rolls, rosolli salad and roasted fillet reindeer with cranberry sauce.”

Leah wasn’t sure if her stomach growled or groaned. “Wow, Winston.” Putting on a fake, half smile she replied, “Do me a favor. The next time I ask what we’re having, if it isn’t of cow, pig or chicken origin, please tell me ‘you don’t want to know.’”

Winston laughed. Hannes said, “Typical American. Always thinking her way is the best.”

Leah rolled her eyes and started humming. “I’m not listening to you.”

Hannes talked over her voice. “Think you can ignore me?”

She hummed louder. “I’m in a good mood and you’re not going to ruin it, dammit!”

Winston interrupted what was sure to become a yelling match. “A-hem! Quiet, Master Ass, and be seated at the table, young lady.”              

Leah smirked at Hannes while she pulled out the chair opposite him. Winston placed drinks and plates on the table. Her drink looked like thick dark cream while red wine graced Hannes and Winston places. Leah raised her brow. If this was a child’s chocolate milk, she was going to scream. She wrapped her hand around the warm glass and took a sip. Her taste buds rejoiced. If this was their version of hot chocolate, who needed wine?

The food tasted better than expected. The lean meat was similar to venison. The vegetable salad was crisp and a bit tart.

Winston tapped the corner of his mouth with his napkin. “Have you enjoyed your stay so far?”

Leah perked up. “Absolutely. The land is gorgeous and the weather today was to die for. Is it always this sunny and beautiful?” She saw Winston look at Hannes, who had his face in his plate. Winston cleared his throat. “Unfortunately, no. It is usually cloudy and somewhat dreary. You have brought good fortune.”              

Hannes choked on his food and coughed. Winston glanced at him. “Ignore him. He is always grumpy.”

“So I’ve noticed.” Leah lifted her cocoa and rolled her eyes.

Hannes set his fork on his plate and looked at them. “This is my house. I don’t have to put up with this.”

“Of course you don’t, my Prince.” Leah set her glass down. “You can stay with the dogs in their house. All you need is a little bacon grease on your nose.”

Winston laughed, almost spitting out a bite of food. Hannes’ cheeks took on a pinkish hue. “At least they are mannered enough to respect me.”

Leah grinned. “We may not respect you, my Prince. But we love you anyway, don’t we Winston?”

Winston’s face glowed red from holding back his laughter and food. Hannes picked up his fork. “When I lived here as a child, my parents made me work hard every day to earn my stay.”

Winston’s fork fell from his hand onto the plate. “You are so full of
paska
! You were so spoiled…”

Leah laughed at Winston’s response.

Hannes’ eyes widened. “I don’t know whose house you were in, old man, but here…”

Leah forked her reindeer and enjoyed their bantering.

Several cups of coffee and hot chocolates later, Leah yawned. “Anybody know what time it is? There isn’t one clock or phone in this house. I’d kill for an iPod or anything that plays music.”

Hannes looked down at his watch. “Almost 2130.”

Leah sat back in her chair. “Wow, we’ve been here that long. No wonder I’m tired.” She looked across the table at Hannes. The distant kitchen lights partially lit the breakfast area. His shadowed face reflected the same expression as the one in the galley her first night eating with the men. He wasn’t smiling or frowning; his eyes weren’t overly widened or narrowed, but intense. What thoughts roamed his head? She would figure him out. She just needed time.

Winston rose from his chair, breaking the awkward silence. “I believe it is time for me to retire, also.” He carried his plate and coffee cup into the kitchen.

Leah gathered her dishes. “Winston, your accent is English, right?” She stopped next to Hannes and collected his table items then followed Winston. “How did you wind up in Finland?”

He took her dishes and set them on the countertop. “That, young lady, is a long story I will share with you when the sun is up and we are both very much awake.”

Leah yawned again. “I’m holding you to that. Thank you for a fabulous dinner. I really enjoyed dining on Rudolph.”

Winston bowed slightly. “Thank you for your help, Leah. I will finish here. Please feel free to retire for the evening.”

She returned Winston’s smile. She was glad to hear her name and not “child” or “princess.” She bade the two men a good evening and left the room.

On her way through the formal dining, footsteps squeaked on the wood floor behind her. “I’ll walk you to your room.”

She glanced back, stuck her hands into her pockets and kept walking. “Great. I’m to have an escort at all times in the house?”

Hannes grabbed her arm and spun her around to face him. “I’m trying to be polite.”

Realizing her assessment was unfair, she dropped her chin. “Yes, you are. I apologize.”

He held her upper arm close to his chest, bringing her close. She looked up at him. Even in the shadows, his eyes shined with an inner fire. His masculine scent set her mind and body reeling. Catching her breath, she dropped her gaze and turned back to the hall.

Hannes pursued. “Do you need anything? Is everything comfortable?”

Starting up the stairs, she stopped and looked back at him. She hadn’t seen Hannes play the attentive host. His hands slid into his slacks’ pockets, letting the thumbs hang out. He looked down and around the dark room at everything but her.

Leah hid her smile while she watched the pompous, overconfident womanizer succumb to the pressure of being a gentleman. She found it rather charming. She turned and continued up the stairs.

“Actually, my room is very nice. I’ve never slept in a grand four-poster bed with so many fluffy pillow and soft sheets. I almost feel--I can’t believe I’m saying this to you--but I feel like a princess.”

Following close behind her, Hannes laughed.

“The only thing missing is a shower.” Leah reached the top landing and flipped the hidden light switch, flooding the area with light.

Hannes scrunched his face. “A shower?”

Leah sauntered toward her bedroom door. Hannes flipped the switch off, throwing shadows where the light from downstairs didn’t reach. Leah arched her brow. “Yes. According to my recent education, when the house was built, showers had not been introduced here.” She leaned against the bedroom doorframe. Hannes reached for the knob, coming within inches of her.

The sudden intimate closeness startled and excited her. His voice rang soft and hypnotic. “I guess my mother never remodeled the rooms up here.”

Leah’s body tingled. She grabbed the wooden frame to support her weakening knees. Words swirled in her head, none making their way to her mouth. He leaned next to her ear and whispered, “I’d be willing to share my shower with you.”

Heat radiated from his taut body. Her pulse hammered. She tipped her flushed face down. “When you’re not here, of course.”

Hannes bowed his head and brushed his smooth cheek against hers. “Of course.”

The smell of sweet wine from dinner whetted her appetite for the taste from his lips. With the tip of his finger, he gently lifted her chin. His lips lowered to hers. They were mere centimeters away from each other. Her belly fluttered and the warmth of his body curled around her in a protective cocoon.
Kiss me! Kiss me now!

“Hannes!” Winston’s voice shattered the silence from downstairs. “Hannes, your phone is ringing.”

Hannes dropped his hand and stepped back. Leah slipped into her room and closed the door. She leaned back against the wood. Her heart raced; she could barely breathe.

What just happened? Dammit! It was all so quick. Her body still prickled. Slowly, her brain kicked in. She frowned and lightly banged her head against the door. Leah, Leah, Leah. How naive can you be? He only wanted a booty call! Until now, he’d made no attempt at getting personal. What did this mean? Her face blushed full red.

She flipped the light on. Balling her hands in fists, she paced the width of the room. Typical barbarian. How stupid could she be, falling for the “goodnight kiss” act? That was all he wanted from a woman--a one-night screw fest.

He acted like he could barely stand her and now all of a sudden he wanted to kiss her? Screw that! If he wanted to play games with other women that was fine by her, but not this woman! She had lived for years without it and wasn’t about to degrade herself with someone who was incapable of love.

She yanked opened a chest drawer and threw pink PJs decorated with cats onto the bed. She stomped into the bathroom and brushed her teeth. She pounded her fist on the black and white vanity. What was he waiting for? If he was keeping her around for sex, then he could…he could…she stomped out of the bathroom so consumed with anger, she couldn’t think of anything bad enough he could do.

She slipped on the PJs, climbed under the sheets, and flopped her head into the feather pillow. She grabbed one of the square decorative pillows and smashed it to her face. She screamed until she was exhausted. Stupid man. Why did he have to get inside her head?

She tossed the beaten and broken pillow to the side. Why she was so furious over normal male behavior? This wasn’t the first time she’d been hit on.

But it was the first time she ever completely desired a touch--his touch. God. She almost wanted him to keep her around for sex. Even worse, she wanted him to come back and finish what he started. Her body burned for that kiss. She needed therapy.