The Bear King's Captive: Curvy Paranormal Shape Shifter Romance (5 page)

BOOK: The Bear King's Captive: Curvy Paranormal Shape Shifter Romance
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The instant image of taking her lips and pressing her curves into his body sent his animal pushing to get out. He knew the taste of her skin would be addictive. The beast wanted to mate her. The man wanted to take her. He wanted to hold her until the fear left her. He hated seeing that in her eyes.

Then the fear was replaced with a brightness he knew all too well. Need. Lust. Desire. She wanted him.

His animal sensed the change in her and sent images of his body hovering over hers, taking her. The soft sound of her moans. Her nails scraping down his back with every thrust of his body into her welcoming heat. Fuck.

Now that he had the vision in his head, circling and replaying like a favorite scene in a movie, there was no getting rid of it. It was only a matter of time before he had her in his bed, under him, calling his name and asking him to take her. Mate her.

Fucking hell. It was going to be a long night. He sensed her confusion over her need and wondered about it.

Hannes snapped out of the daydream. He didn’t want to travel any farther down the path of thought. He wouldn’t allow himself. Laughter from the far end of the table drew his eyes to the four dark-haired men. Even though they spoke Spanish, he understood every word.

Everyone had finished eating, but no one left the table before him--his rule, he was first. He propped his elbows on the table and clasped his hands, interweaving his fingers. Usually, he didn't say much but tonight, there was business to take care of.

“Diego.”

The group instantly fell silent, snapped to full attention.

“Sí, Commander,” Diego said. His thick mustache twitched.

“What happened at the port? I was told there would be no problems. Gunshots could’ve brought the police, and I have an injured boy and a woman locked in a storage room below.” The loudest noise in the room came from a fly buzzing overhead.              

Hannes pushed back his chair from the table and traipsed along the side. Two of his soldiers rose from their seats and casually stationed themselves at the table’s head and foot; the bald headed second-in-command remained sitting a few chairs away from the interrogated Spaniard. The other hired guys hunkered low in their seats, eyes darting to each person.

Hannes mentally flipped through Diego’s background file containing every detail about the man. Hannes turned his tall, solid frame from the table and paced a few steps. “Diego, why does Ojo Azul want the two prisoners?”

“He kill you if you call that to his face.”

Hannes smiled to himself. He doubted that. Still, none of this story made sense. “Tell me, how much is the offering?”

Diego popped to his feet, gun in his hand. Instantly, three pistols pointed at Diego. The observing Spanish contractors dove to the floor. Hannes frowned at the blanching man before him. “I find her. Money is mine.”

“How much?”

“Diez millónes.”

A high-pitched whistle sounded from Hannes. “Ten million? What did she do to deserve that bounty?” He tapped a finger on his chin, waiting for an answer.

The man’s lip trembled. “No care.”

Hannes nodded. “I understand how your kind works--rarely wanting the story, never wondering why someone wants to kill another human.”

Diego’s eyes flashed to the lieutenant sitting a few seats down. “Kor—” Diego’s head snapped to the side, almost touching his cheek to his shoulder. A tuft of hair above his ear poofed out from fractured bone beneath. He slumped and collapsed like a bag of rags.

Hannes slammed both fists onto the metal table. A roar ripped from him. Only the contracted Spaniards stared at the commander with horror stricken faces. His own men were used to it.

He whipped his head toward the second-in-command. “I wanted him alive! I said restrain, if needed.” He felt the creature’s canines puncture his gums. He barely controlled the shift.

Lieutenant Korhonen unscrewed the silencer and calmly returned both cylinder and gun to their places under his black leather jacket. “I thought--”

“No!” Hannes’ face burned as his bones felt like molten lava was melting them, rearranging them. Rage shook his body. “You are to obey orders, not think!” He spun around and stepped away from the table and ran fingers through his thin hair. He noted the thickening of his fingers toward huge paws. The claws burned at the tips of fingers. Control. Deep breath in, slowly let it out.

Fuck. What was wrong with him? He never had this much problem, except when Catalina… He stopped his thoughts right there. The commander glanced at the back of his knuckles as a reminder of the promise he made himself and shoved the anger deep inside. 

Without turning toward the visibly shaken men on the floor, he said, “Maricio, grab a tray and make two plates of food.” Hannes blanked his face and addressed the table. “Lieutenant. Take care of your…mess before any of the ship’s crew sees it.”
              “Yes, sir.” A grin inched across Korhonen’s face.

 

 

 

SEVEN

 

Hannes waited as Maricio rotated the storage room’s lever arm out of the cradle and opened the door. Questions burned in Hannes’ mind: Who was the woman? What did she do? Who was the boy? He’d get his answers, even if he had to personally deliver her to Roclas. Not that he’d allow anyone to hurt her. No one would touch a hair on her even if his life depended on it.

He actually looked forward to seeing the woman again. Her spunk and crass demeanor were a nice change from sycophants, but she needed to keep her place in rank and file.

From the dock incident, he knew she was a bit…temperamental. He could imagine her face when he walked through the door. Her attitude reminded him why he never married, nor ever would. No, that wasn’t true. His secret was the reason he’d never be close to another again. He didn’t want to think of the disgusted horror on her face once she knew.

Maricio stepped into the room. The woman and boy sat against the bulkhead behind the open door. Hannes crossed the threshold after surveying the room. Leah’s face was comical with shock, disbelief, and anger fighting for supremacy.

Maricio set the tray in front of them then took two water bottles from Hannes and set them down.

“Gracias, Maricio.”

The helper bowed his head slightly and closed the door behind him.

“Blondie!” The woman jumped to her feet. “What the hell happened to you delaying the departure? Now, we’re prisoners to men who…” She glanced toward the boy and swallowed. “Why are you holding us? We’ve done nothing to you.”

His mind scrambled for a false but plausible story. The lie wouldn’t form. He simply stared into her squinted eyes. His animal roared in his head, telling him to take her down and bite her now. What the hell? Bite her? Another reason he needed to squash whatever was inside him. He wasn’t about to snack on a human.

Then again, she looked damn fine and smelled delicious. This new need to mark her had never risen in him. He had a feeling the beast was controlling that side and there was nothing he could do about it. Leah was special to the animal and to himself.

“Mister, when we dock in Spain, you will immediately take us to the U.S. Embassy. We are Americans and won’t put up with this crap.”

Hannes leaned back and crossed his arms over his chest. “How did you know we’re going to Spain?”

Her fists landed on her cocked hips. “Seriously? All the words I’ve seen are in Spanish. And you said ‘gracias’ five seconds ago. Only an idiot wouldn’t figure it out.”

“Hey,” the boy crossed his arms, one hand holding half a sausage. “I’m not an idiot. I was hoping we were going to New York. Where’s Spain? Close to Florida?”

Tantalizing images came to Hannes’ mind. “Florida would be nice. We’d get to see your girlfriend in a bikini.”
Paska
. Shit. He didn’t need movement below the belt right now.

Leah smirked. “A bikini? Really? Men.” She rolled her eyes. “You seem awful smart, for a deckhand.”

His eyes narrowed. He’d been through hell and worse which led him to where he was today. Being called the equivalent of a piss ant didn’t settle too well.

She grinned. “A little sensitive about your station in life?”

A flash of anger quickly turned to humor toward the young pretty woman. He remembered she had no idea of his station. To her, he was a crewmember. He let out an uncontrollable laugh. She studied him with angry eyes; a lioness measuring her prey, contemplating the kill. Another tingle jolted below his belt, and with her smell... He pivoted, giving Leah his back. If he didn’t, she’d get a good view of how much she affected him.

Enough of this play, time for answers. He needed to pull his
paska
together. He was out of sorts. Steel wrapped his emotions. “Eat before it gets cold. You will not eat again for several hours.”             

“So, the commander plans to keep us around for a while?” She backed to the wall next to the kid.

His head popped up. “How do you know about the commander?”

“A bald headed monster whispered in my ear.”

Did she mean his lieutenant? When he informed Lieutenant Korhonen about the “guests,” he didn’t mention keeping the team’s identities secret. But for now, it didn’t matter. He was a lowly laborer, wanting answers. After sitting against the door, he pulled out a small plastic container of raisins from his pocket.

The woman grimaced. “We didn’t invite you to our little party.”

The boy smacked her arm and they shared a look. She snatched up a sausage and glared into far shadows. The kid turned to him. “She didn’t mean that. She has a hard time making friends.”

He laughed and slid his finger under the raisin container’s rim, popping off the lid. “So, kid, what’s your name?”

“Ivan Lindsay, sir.”

Both lid and plastic bowl fell from Hannes’ hands. He hadn’t heard that name in a long time. “How is it spelled?”

The kid dropped his chin to his chest. “It’s European for I-V-A-N.” 

Paska
. In silence, he picked up the raisins that fell onto the lid. “Do you have relatives in the Baltic region?” He tossed a handful of tiny fruit into his mouth.

“Yeah, I think my grandparents are from Baltimore.”

A raisin caught in his throat and he coughed, launching it to the other side of the room. Another loud laugh followed. The boy looked at the lady with confusion on his face. She rolled her eyes. “I’ll explain later.” She turned to him, no hostility, or anger. “My name is Leah Tomson, and you are . . .”

He paused, wondering if he should give his real name. Honestly, the lady was no threat to him or his men. “Hannes Otila, but my men call me Otso.” Oh,
paska
. He realized what he said after it rolled off his tongue. Maybe she wouldn’t catch it.             

Leah frowned. “Your men?”

He needed to be very careful. He turned his eyes to the floor and rubbed his nose. “I mean the men I work with…here on the vessel.”

“Got it.” By her smell, he knew her mind churned with suspicion. Leah tucked a leg under her and picked up a fork. “I’ve never heard of ‘Otso’ before. Does it mean something in your language?”

Hannes lifted his chin. “Otso means great bear—King of the Forest. In my snow-cold country, only the bear can survive the harsh winters and kill any prey it desires.”

Leah coughed, dislodging a piece of egg. She tried to cover her smile. “Nice…name. Fits your personality well. Snow, you say? They should call you a
polar otso
.” His head snapped up, eyes drilled on her. “You know, polar bear. Why are you looking at me like that?”

Ivan jerked away from the wall. Leah dropped her fork onto the plate. “What’s wrong?”

With big eyes, he said, “Your name’s Leah, and he’s Hannes.”

“So.”

He thumped his head with a finger. “Don’t you get it? Princess Leia and Han Solo.”

“Princess?” Hannes’ grin grew wide. “That fits your personality quite well. I’ll call you Princess.”

“My name is Leeeah, not Laaaia. And I prefer Leeeah, thank you very much.”

“Absolutely. So, Ivan, Princess, tell me how you’re related.”

Ivan handed a half-empty plate and fork to Leah and said, “We’re not related. My mom and grandparents live in Cincy. I met Leah at the train station.”

A smirk raised the corner of Hannes’ lips. “Why were you at the port together?”

Food filled Leah’s mouth; Ivan continued. “It’s a long story, but basically I was stuck in a snake pit and she saved everything with a rockslide. Then I followed her to the parking lot, and then some guy who wanted to be rich chased us over the fence.”

At a total loss, Hannes glanced at Leah who nodded and chewed. She covered her mouth. “Yup, that’s exactly right.” Leah set down her fork. “Are you Swedish?”

“No, I’m Finnish.”

The boy looked at the bowl filled with raisins in Hannes’ hands. “If you’re finished, I’ll eat the rest of what you’ve got.”

Leah rolled her eyes, ignoring the young teen. “How did you get employed on a Spanish ship?”

He shrugged. “You find work wherever it is.” Enough about him. “How about you? Ever worked in Spain, or maybe Colombia?”

“Colombia? In South America?” Her brows scrunched. “I’ve never been out of the states. Why?”

His years as an interrogator taught him to be straight up with questioning. This “beating around the bush” and small talk were annoying. His responses had to be true or she might catch him in a lie, and this whole charade will be for naught. Again, he shrugged, nonchalant. “You recognized Spanish words. Just wondering.”

“Oh.” She sounded like she believed it. “I lived in California for a while. If you don’t speak some Spanish, you can’t communicate with half the people. I read and hear much better. The only words I speak well are
una mas magarita, por favor
.”

One more margarita, please
. Hannes erupted into laughter. Her face flushed and she glanced at the food tray. In the dim light, he noticed the soft curve of her neck. Her hair draped forward, hiding her face. “California to Ohio is a big change. How long have you lived in Cleveland?”

She hesitated. “I--I’ve lived in a lot of places. I like traveling. See the world and all that.” He didn’t smell a lie, but not the full truth, either. “What about you, Otso?”

Interesting how she skimmed over her life, quickly passing the ball to him. “Me? I’m just a boring mate on a ship.” He wanted answers, one inconspicuous question this time. “So, are you into illegal drugs or maybe push them?”

A sliver of meat popped from Leah’s mouth. Her hand slapped over her lips. “Excuse me? What the hell kind of question is that?”

Hannes wiped a hand over his face. This wasn’t going as he wished.

Her eyes narrowed. “Are you a junkie?” She jumped up and pointed to the door. “Take your crack ass out of--”

“Hold on, hold on.” The quickness getting to his feet made her step back with a hint of fear in her eyes. Good. She needed to remember her place. “I’m not an addict or making insinuations.” He cupped her shoulders, looking into her eyes. She met his gaze, her frown lines relaxing. His desire to pull her close almost overwhelmed him. Why did he stop himself? It’s what he wanted.

That’s not all he wanted. He scanned her body as she stood defiant.
Paska
, she was perfect. Full figured, smooth skin, a woman he could hold onto and feel against his hard body. He guided her back to her spot while he tried to come up with a cover story. “I’m just trying to figure out something.”

“Like what?”

“Mainly why Ojo wants you so badly.”

“Ojo? Eye in Spanish? Who is called eye?”

He looked at her carefully. Could she not know what she’s involved in? She smelled innocent. “Ojo Azul, Roclas, is the reason Diego wants you.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Ah, Roclas. Diego must be who shot Ivan, then.”

The boy stabbed the sausage link on her plate. “Are you gonna eat that?”

She slapped his arm. “Ivan, what are you—that’s mine.”

“Well, you’re talking, not eating.”

“That’s because I’m being nice, like you want.”

“I never said be nice when there’s food on the table.” She huffed and let him take the meat. Hannes couldn’t help but laugh. They fought like siblings.

She glowered at him. “You never answered my initial question. Why are we held here like prisoners?”

This woman would drive him to drink. He ran fingers through his hair—a habit he did when nervous or stressed. He snapped his hand to his pocket; he wasn’t nervous around her. Thing was he didn’t have an answer to her question. “Since you like to ‘travel’ so much, how do you make a living?”

Her fists popped to her hips. “Look, buddy, nothing about the boy or me would be interesting to you.”

“I would disagree.”

“Why is that?”

“I’d love to know why you’re hiding from the world’s most powerful drug lord who has killed men for looking at him wrong.”

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