The Bear King's Captive: Curvy Paranormal Shape Shifter Romance (19 page)

THIRTY-SEVEN

The next morning, when Winston came down from his room, Hannes was gone. He hoped to talk with his employer before Leah awoke. That would have to wait. He scrounged the pantry for breakfast items. The supplies he ordered for their first few days were already running low. He would have to go to the market tomorrow.

As he finished pouring bacon grease into the container, Leah dragged into the kitchen in a pair of pink PJs. She plopped onto her regular barstool at the end of the island. Winston looked over from the stove. “Just in time.”

Leah propped her elbow on the bar and slumped her head into her hand. “I need a shower before I change clothes.”

“After breakfast.”

She sighed. “What are we having?”

Winston moved a pan from one burner to another. “You don’t want to know.” He smiled to himself.

Leah’s eyes popped open and she sat straight up. “For breakfast? You’re feeding me something weird for breakfast?”

She made him laugh. He hadn’t done that for far too long. “Not weird, and I think you will very much enjoy this.” He set a bowl of oatmeal on the bar in front of her.

Leah looked into the bowl and drew her brows in. “I thought you said I didn’t want to know. This looks like oatmeal, which is normal.”              

“Good, then you will enjoy it.” He cleaned the kitchen while Leah ate. Hundreds of questions floated through his head. Should he ask her who she was or why she’s here? California was a long way from Cleveland where the cargo boat left from.

After a few bites, Leah looked around. “It’s peaceful here. Where’s Hannes?”

Winston chuckled and opened the dishwasher. “I do not know, but the car is not in the garage.”

Leah nodded. After another bite, she said, “Tell me about him.”

He stiffened. Many different identities and personas Hanes used raced through his mind. “What would you like to know?”

Leah shrugged. “Tell me about his mom and dad. I cannot believe he is the offspring of someone who lived in this house.”

Again, he chuckled. Sometimes he wondered the same thing. “Well, they were quite the couple. His father, Ivan--”

“What?” Leah’s sudden interjection surprised him. “His father’s name was E-E-V-O-N.”

“It is pronounced that way, a family name of his great-grandmother from Persia, I believe. But it is spelled I-V-A-N, as in the Russian Ivan the Terrible. Why?”

“Nothing. Just seems to be a popular name lately. Go on. Sorry.”

Winston continued stacking dishes into the dishwasher. “Ivan and Ms. Lyyli married when he was in his forties. She was still quite young, early twenties, as I recall. They settled into this house as his father before him.

“The family company, O Industries, was an extremely prosperous lumber company Hannes’ great-grandfather, Kaarlo, started in the 1800s. Late in life, Kaarlo married a young lady and fathered nine children, including two sets of twins.

“The children grew to be self-indulgent, irresponsible adults. They spent money on lavish houses and cars they never used. They drank and partied into the morning. I have been told Kaarlo spent thousands of markkas bailing his children out of jail.

“As Kaarlo aged in years, he feared his company would die with him. But everything was saved when his grandson Ivan H. Otila II, Hannes’ father, expressed interest in the company. In twenty years, Ivan tripled O Industries’ size and profit.”

Leah cut in, “Was his father sorta geeky, always mispronouncing words?”

He stared at her for a second. “No.” What did that mean? He reached for a glass in the sink. “As I was saying, in the late 1970s, several lumber tycoons offered Ivan a large sum of money for O Industries. Ivan loved his business, but he was not a fool. His son had no interest in the company and his daughter was very young. He had no desire to push something onto her that she would be unhappy with later. So, doing what every good father would do, he sold the company for tens of millions of markkas.”

Winston closed the dishwasher and leaned on the counter in front of Leah. In a low voice, he added, “Which is a boatload of money, if I say so myself.”

Leah covered her mouth and giggled.

“Unfortunately, money does not buy everything. Ivan died in 1989, leaving Ms. Lyyli and their daughter Kiela alone. By that time, Hannes had been in the military for several years and never visited home.

“The ladies remained here in the island house. Almost three years to the day of Hannes’ father passing, the military informed Ms. Lyyli that Hannes was killed in combat--"

Leah’s head snapped up. “What?”

Winston held up his index finger, signaling her to hush. “…with honor and returned to her the few personal items remaining: a wallet size family photo taken when Hannes was eight, a brass cross for his bravery in combat and the other half of his metal ID tag.

“What a terrible year. Kiela left the house vowing never to return to such ‘a sad and desolate place.’ With both of her children gone, occupying this house became a very lonely existence for Ms. Lyyli.

“To bring back people and life, she developed an infatuation with remodeling. Architects, contractors and designers from around the world came and went for years. From sunrise to sunset, hammers, drills, and saws could be heard far and wide. All the downstairs rooms have been redesigned and rebuilt from the original.”

He paused. His smile faded and eyes saddened. Memories cut deeper than he thought. His chest lowered with a slow sigh. “Six years ago, everything came to a halt. Ms. Lyyli fell ill with advanced stage breast cancer. She passed a year later. Since no living Otila laid claim to the house, I put it into ‘perpetual sleep.’

“The furniture and antiques were covered with plastic and sheets just as see. The windows were boarded up to keep vagrants out and a local family was hired through a trust fund to maintain the yard, docks, and land.”

Leah’s face scrunched. “Why didn’t she sell the house if she knew she was dying?”

“No one knows. Perhaps she hoped someday one of her children would return and bring the ghosts back to life.”

Leah slowly shook her head. “Never in a million years would I’ve guessed Hannes, my unending source of irritation, could ever have a past as grand and fabulous as he does.” A pensive Leah stared into her empty breakfast bowl. “So, you’re telling me Hannes is heir to the family estate?”

Winston nodded.

“That explains the jet we flew in.” Her head popped up. “You said the military claimed he was dead. What’s that all about? Obviously, they were wrong. You said ‘living’ Otila claimed the house. Are there ghosts here? And what about his sister? Is she still alive? Where is she living? Are other relatives still alive? How much money are we talking about?” Leah stopped to take a breath.

Winston leaned back from the counter and laughed. “Slow down.” He took her empty bowl to the sink. “All your questions will be answered in time, my child.”

“But I may not have a lot of time. I want to know now.”

He didn’t like the sound of that. An uneasy feeling set in his stomach. “What do you mean, not a lot of time?” He placed the bowl in the dishwasher and turned it on.

Leah leaned back in her barstool. She crossed her arms over her chest and stared at him for a few seconds. “What has Hannes told you about me?”

He smirked. “Absolutely nothing. It exasperates me to no end how he refuses to let others help him.”

Leah smiled. “Yup, that’s the Hannes we know and love.” She smacked her hands together and rubbed them back and forth. “Okay. What’s the plan for today?”

“Well, I thought I would check the condition of the furniture and antiques, but--”

Leah hopped off her stool. “Great. I’ll change clothes and then you can answer all my questions while we unwrap the rooms. How does that sound?”

Winston wiped his hands on a dishtowel. “That sounds like a marvelous idea.” He leaned against the cabinet and watched her leave. What the bloody hell happened on Hannes’ last mission? Why did Hannes bring her here instead of Spain? And why didn’t she have luggage like a traveler should?

A thought formed in his head. Hannes was hiding her. From whom was now the question--and how to get her back where she belonged.

THIRTY-EIGHT

Leah spent the next several hours with Winston, examining old artifacts for damage and uncovering the finer pieces of furniture. They rediscovered masterpiece paintings, life-sized marble statues of Grecian gods, and bronze busts. With great care, they cleaned away spider webs and dust.              

Under the sheet covering an end table, a tall object jutted into the air. Leah lifted the fabric and saw a silver replica beer stein mounted on a white marble base. She picked it up and looked at the front plate. “Winston, what does this say?”

Looking over to her, he smiled. “That, my dear, is a second place trophy for a Wife Carrying Championship. The Missus and Ivan won that many years ago.”

“What’s a Wife Carrying Championship? Sounds uncivilized to me.”

He laughed. “Ask Hannes about it. He knows better than I.”

Leah blew off the dust and set the trophy on the table. “By the way, where do you come in with the family? You didn’t mention your place in my history lesson.”

He pulled the sheet off a Louis XVI chair. “Actually, my wife, Suvi, arrived before I did.

“When Hannes was three years old, Lyyli gave birth to his sister Kiela. With both children, the house, and business, Ms. Lyyli needed help keeping up with everyday things.

“She interviewed a young lady just out of school, and immediately made her an offer. Suvi accepted and started at once. After several wonderful years, Ivan and the Missus offered Suvi a month holiday to anywhere in the world. She admired the royalty of England and their beautiful castles. So with little hesitation, she flew off to London in style.

“During a tour of the Porchester Castle, she met a dashing young gentleman named Winston Brigham.”

Leah grinned and rolled her eyes.

“He invited her to dinner. She agreed and that evening, she fell in love with him and he, with her.” Winston paused and stared at the sheet in his hands. “The remaining two weeks in England were some of the happiest times in our lives.

“As her holiday came to an end, she told me of her devotion to the Otila children, and that she must leave. Well, I was not about to let such a little thing as a family a thousand miles away take the love of my life. Straight away, I asked her to marry me…in Finland.”

Leah sighed. “How romantic. I’ve always dreamed about finding someone who would love me like that.”

He smiled. “The plan was for me to move to Finland, work at O Industries and put money aside for a small house on the mainland. Well, best laid plans of mice and men… No positions were available in any of the family companies.”

Leah sucked in a sharp breath, and her eyes popped wide. “What did you do?”

Winston smiled, appreciating her genuine emotions. “Our hearts were shattered to say the least. But Ms. Lyyli had a plan. At that time, Ivan was getting along in years. He needed a strong back to manage the upkeep of the house and assist him with personal necessities.”

Leah looked at Winston. “Personal necessities?”

“Ms. Lyyli explained that all the Otila men were of a special breed. They held much dignity and pride. Showing weakness or the need for help was out of the question. Many times, Otila men silently suffered, choosing not to expose their ‘soft side.’

“But once inside an Otila man’s heart, his world revolved around the ones he loved. And sometimes, that love interfered with reality. Ivan had reached the stage where the once simple tasks like tying his shoes and getting dressed were no longer easy. You see, Ivan would not allow Ms. Lyyli to help him, because he never wanted her to look on his physical failings with heartache or despair.

“Ms. Lyyli asked Suvi to write me to see if I would accept this responsibility. Ms. Lyyli then handed Suvi several small hand drawings and diagrams of house designs. She asked Suvi to include them in her letter so we could start making plans for our life after the wedding.

“Suvi glanced through the stack then placed it on the table in front of her. The houses were beautiful, and she knew we would never be able to afford anything like them. Ms. Lyyli picked up the stack and handed it to her again. She told Suvi if she wasn’t going to accept her and Ivan’s wedding gift, then perhaps I would.”

Leah’s eyes teared. Her mom would’ve been a lot like Lyyli, given the chance.

Winston sighed. “That’s pretty much it. Shortly thereafter, Suvi’s family asked me to live with them until the wedding, while Suvi stayed here, at the island house. I began work immediately.

“Ivan and the Missus were the two most generous, kindhearted, compassionate people I ever met. I knew I would never be able to repay them.” With a dramatic sigh and high sweeping arms, he whipped a white sheet off a settee and rolled it around his forearm. “But I will admit, taking care of their son these past many years has brought that bloody debt close to zero.”

Leah laughed. “I can only imagine.”

Winston turned to Leah. “I do not know about you, but I am exhausted and quite hungry. How about lunch?”

In the kitchen, Leah scooted out a chair at the breakfast table and glided her hand over the top. “Is this the same table where Lyyli and Suvi sat when she offered Suvi your job?” A sense of living history, a link to generations of family love she never experienced, filled her with a strange warmth.

Winston placed his sandwich plate and one for Leah on the table. “It is the very one. The Missus had too many happy memories around this table to discard it. It has been repaired and refinished many times.”

Leah stretched her legs under the table. “Okay, I understand why you are still with Hannes -- gratitude to his parents.”

Winston started to speak, but Leah kept talking. “That still wouldn’t be reason enough for me, but it’s you, thank the gods. Now, back to this morning. What’s up with the military telling everyone Hannes was dead when he wasn’t? And what do they say now that he’s obviously alive?”

Winston took a bite of his sandwich before answering. “Well, for one thing, the Finnish military does not know he is alive.”

“What?” Leah stared at him.

Winston took another bite and chewed on his answer. “I do not know what happened to Hannes after going into the military. He has never opened up to anyone about that time in his life. I can only tell you how he was before going in.”

Leah grunted. “Was he an evil child from the start?”

Winston stopped chewing. “Of course not. Why do you say such a thing?”

Her body tensed, and she looked at her plate. “I don’t mean to insult Suvi or anything. I’m sure she’s not to blame, but only innately bad people choose to continuously do what they know is wrong.”

Winston’s hand shot out and squeezed her arm. “Look at me, child. Have you walked in his shoes for the past twenty years? Do you know anything about prison camps and human torture? Do not dare judge someone until you know exactly what they have lived through.”

He was right. She was wrong to criticize. All her life, she tried to make things simple: good or bad, right or wrong, Heaven or Hell. She needed to uncover more of Hannes’ past.

Winston released her arm and lifted her chin with a finger. “What is around your neck?”

Leah’s hand automatically covered her throat. She leaned away from his touch. “What? There’s nothing on my neck.” A couple of days and many miles had passed since the run-in with Lt. K on the ship, but even a memory quickened her pulse.

“Yes, there is.” He leaned toward her. She jerked away, almost falling from the chair. He sat back. “I noticed it while working in the living room.”

She rolled her eyes. “I don’t know what you’re seeing. It’s probably because I haven’t taken a shower since I got here. Ever hear of ‘ring around the collar’?”

Winston frowned.

Leah stuffed the remainder of her sandwich in her mouth and carried her plate to the sink. She felt his eyes follow her.

“Perhaps you should take a shower now that Hannes is not here.”

Tears threatened as she slipped around the corner of the bar. “I’d like to sit with the dogs first. When do you expect Hannes back?”

“Not until much later.” Winston rose from the table.

Leah hurried toward the kitchen archway. “Good. I’ll do that.” When she reached the stairs, out of the kitchen’s sight line, she slumped against the railing. Her throat burned with an internal pyre.

She sat on a step and let the incident roll from her mind. Burying the pain only hurt more in the end. Her head dropped into her hands. Yes, it happened. She survived, she’ll never see that bastard again. It’s okay to vent the hurt.

She needed the security and unconditional love only a pet could give. She ran upstairs, pulled on her coat and boots, then headed out the front doors in search of comfort.

Winston propped his elbows on the table and steepled his fingers. Her fear of his touch was unexpected. He observed bruises with a rash-like discoloration around her throat like a choker necklace worn too tightly. He had seen that exact marking before…on an asphyxiated body.

He shoved away from table and launched to his feet. Hannes’ and his conversation about the girl would no longer wait. Winston stormed up the kitchen stairs into his quarters. He pulled his cell phone from his jacket pocket, pushed a button, and pressed it to his ear.

“When are you returning…fine.” He flipped closed the top and tossed it onto the bed. He tromped down the stairs and up the hall to the living room. He did not understand any of this: why did he…and why didn’t she… His hands balled into fists. He should question Leah right now, before Hannes returned. But would she tell the truth or continue to protect Hannes?

Winston stopped and took a deep breath. Anger was useless. Calm, cool, unflappable. He walked into the library and sat behind the cherry desk. A sigh escaped him. He picked up the serrated letter opener and a green and orange envelope from a stack of old mail. On the corner of the desk, Hannes’ laptop sat closed. He stared at it for a few seconds. Perhaps this was for the best.

He laid the serrated letter opener on the colored envelope and pushed them to the front edge of the desk, out of the way. He slid the computer front and center. Lifting the top, he prayed the ideas floating in his head were false. The strange questions about the abducted girl Leah asked the other morning now made sense. He did not wish to kill Hannes, but he would, if left with no option.