ROMANCE: Awakened by the Alpha Bear (Werebear Fantasy Billionaire Romance) (New Adult Contemporary Alpha Male Bear Shapeshifter Paranormal Romance Short Stories)) (27 page)

Chapter Two

Something
was different about her. When Lady Ambrosia arrived two weeks earlier, she had
been a sweet, innocent, shy girl. If he remembered correctly, she had soft baby
blue eyes. He never forgot people’s eyes because they were the windows to the
soul.

It was
1642 Greece, and Lord Bronte Petrakis was standing in his fiancé’s chambers
looking on with trepidation. This was not what he wanted, but the will of his
father and country was greater than his own needs at the time.

It was
an arranged marriage, something he was set against. After meeting her, he had
decided that perhaps with time, he could grow to love her. Her sweet nature
pleased him and she was fair to look at. They’d had a few walks in the garden,
and he was becoming quite fond of her. He’d grown somewhat used to the idea of
her being his bride and was sure she would make a good wife and Duchess.

Her
parents were to arrive in two days, and the preparation for the wedding was in
high gear. There were many nobles expected from every province in the country.
This was a high profile wedding because the daughter and son of two noblemen of
the highest order were joining forces for the betterment of the nation.

It was
now three days before their wedding, and she refused to see him. This was
unexpected because they had agreed to spend as much time as possible getting to
know each other before the wedding. Something didn’t feel right, so Lord Bronte
decided he had to find out what the matter was.

He knew
the castle like the back of his hand. It was his home. He’d played hide and
seek there thousands of times as a child, and he knew the best ways to get to
every room undetected.

What
made it weirder was that she suddenly sent for a new set of maids and sent back
her personal maids which her father had sent with her. She also refused the
handmaids given her by his mother.  She had locked herself away for an entire
day, refusing to see anyone from the Petrakis Castle, including Bronte.

He entered
her room through one of the secret doorways his father had built for easy
escape in the event of a war. She was standing in front of a mirror wearing a
black coat. Her hair was still the same golden curls he remembered, but her
face looked different… though she was still the same. However, it was the way
she smiled that made him realize that she definitely was not Lady Ambrosia.

There
she stood in front of him, her shyness no longer there. Her presence was a bit
daunting as well, not like the girl he’d met before. Her eyes were not the
same. They were black as coal, and his blood ran cold as he stared into them.

“Who
art thou?” He asked.

She
spun around, startled by his voice. “It is I, my Lord, thy betrothed,” she
replied, averting her eyes.

“Nay,
thou art not. Tell me now, who art thou?” He insisted, stepping closer, his
blue eyes becoming steely as anger darkened his features.

She
stepped towards him as well and that gave him pause. Ambrosia would never have
made that step. Her black eyes were cold and her presence colder. A chill ran
up his spine as he watched her smile, and he knew that something was terribly
wrong with his new bride.

Bronte’s
hand reached to his side, but his sword was not there. He never thought of
brining a weapon because he had no clue he would meet any kind of danger in his
own house. Now, he wished he had.

She
moved closer to him and he stood his ground as he tried to figure out what was
going on. How was it possible for one to change so drastically in such a short
period of time? What was it, sorcery… magic?

“Thou
should not have come, my lord. We get married in a few days. Art though anxious
to be with me?” She questioned.

“Nay,
my lady. I was worried about how thou hast been settling in. After all, we
hardly know each other. Ye must be having a hard time accepting our nuptials,”
he replied. He knew he was buying time, but he had to appear as if he was
accepting of her.

She had
moved to within inches of him and he stood his ground. There was something
frightening about her, and he wanted to know what it was. Her cold eyes
penetrated him, and he felt another chill ran up his spine.

“Nay,
my lord. I am accepting our nuptials just fine,” she lifted a hand and traced
her finger along his jawline. “Aren’t ye aware of how much I love thee?”

This he
knew to be false as Lady Ambrosia had already declared to him that her heart
belonged to another, and she, too, was finding it difficult to accept this
marriage. The woman was bold, taking a lock of his long brown hair and rubbing
it against her cheek, briefly closing her eyes. He towered her by about four
inches, but she seemed taller somehow.

“Since
you are fine, I’ll just take my leave now. Got to be ready for our wedding
day,” he said.

“I
shalt also prepare for our wedding day, my lord, and our wedding night.”

The
idea of a wedding night with this woman made him cringe. He knew it was not his
bride, but he had no idea who or what it was. Her face looked the same, but the
eyes, he could not get her eyes from his mind.

Feeling
deceived, he decided to call off the wedding and went directly to his father
after leaving her chambers. The Grand Duke was not pleased and almost blew his
top.

“Father,
I cannot marry a woman I do not love!” Bronte protested.

The
Duke frowned at his son, “Dost thou knowest what this marriage will mean for
our country, son? I cannot break this here treaty, the deal hath been sealed!”

“But
father…,” the young man protested.

He was
thirty-two years old and next in line to become the Archduke of the northeast
region of Western Greece, and would become Grand Duke when his father died.
Bronte wanted to travel the world, and perhaps one day, meet his bride. He was
not keen on arranged marriages, and he made it known that he wanted no part in
this.

“Son,”
his father looked him in the eye. “It is thy responsibility. We are noblemen,
in line to the throne, God forbid something should happen to our beloved King.
Of course, the possibility of me becoming king is perhaps unlikely. However, we
have a responsibility to the people we govern. They expect thee to wed within
the year. How can they respect thee if thou cannot keep thy word?”

It was
a speech Bronte had heard a million times from his father. But this time, the
old man was serious. He’d already decided on his bride and it seemed there was
nothing he could do about it, unless he risked being disinherited.

“Father,
I cannot be wedded to her. She makes my skin crawl!”

“How
so? Just a few days ago ye were very agreeable. What has changed?”

“Father,
she has changed, very much so,” Bronte replied. “She’s not the same girl who
entered the castle. Something is not right.”

His
father took his shoulders, “I know this is not what ye wanted, but we cannot
send her back now, or we risk a war between the two provinces. Ye must find a
way to deal with this.”

There
was no reasoning with his father, so Bronte thought there was only one thing to
do and that was leaving the castle. That night, he saddled his favorite steed,
along with a bearskin bag with a few items and had his manservant pack some food.
He was off in the middle of the night.

When
news broke in the castle that the young Lord Bronte had gone missing, there was
much disquiet. The bride was told to return to her home, but that wasn’t to be
so. She took her handmaids and left, but she never returned to her province.

* * * *

He
awoke in a cave of some sort, disoriented. The last thing he remembered was
fighting off some sort of animal in the dark. He wasn’t sure what it was and
was certain that he’d met his demise.

He
opened his eyes and tried to focus in the dim light of the cave. There were two
lights flickering, casting shadows on the wall. There, in the far corner, she
stood in her black coat. She was staring at him with those cold black eyes. His
heart thundered in his chest in fear and goose bumps ran over his skin.

“Thou
hast awaken my Lord,” her voice was smooth and sweet… too sweet.

She
walked over and knelt beside where he lay on his back. He tried to get up, but
his hands and feet were bound. “Thou hast disappointed me my lord,” she said,
touching his face with her long pointy nails.

“Stay
away from me!” He exclaimed.

“Now,
now, Lord Bronte,” she hissed. “Thee and I would have been wedded by now, if
thou didst not run away. Dost thou knowest how I have searched far and wide to
find such a fair man as thee?"

“Who
art thou, tell me?”

“The
name is Hilda Le Doux,” she stated and laughed, which echoed scarily throughout
the cave.

“Why
art thou doing this?” Bronte struggled to get out his bonds put his efforts
were futile. “Set me free and I will make sure thou art well taken care of.”

“I will
set thee free if thou wilt marry me as planned,” Hilda replied.

“Pray,
tell me, what hast thou done with Lady Ambrosia?” He asked.

Hilda’s
coal black eyes looked into his, “I merely borrowed her body. That was the only
way to get close to thee, my sweet.”

“Get
close to me?”

“Aye,
dear Bronte. Thou art a most handsome man who has captured this heart,” she
lifted her hand and placed it over her left breast. “My heart beats only for
thee, my Lord.”

Chapter Three

It was
a month after being summoned to work in the main office. She’d felt that there
was no option but to say yes if she wanted to secure her future. Surprisingly,
her boss wasn’t as bad as people made him out to be. She would describe him as an
alpha male rather than an aggressive man. He was certainly assertive and
confident, but never was he forceful. She watched him deal with many people
from the business community. Though a dominant figure, he always seemed relaxed
and assured of himself.

At
first, she was apprehensive about working closely with him, but she found that
there was a lot to learn. He was a great teacher. Whenever he needed things
done, he quietly gave orders and you knew he was serious, but never had she
heard him raise his voice.

“Miss
Belmonte,” his voice brought her out of her reverie.

“Yes?”

“I
expect you to be there. I want you to be my cohost.”

There
was to be a party at the mansion for the launch of the new shopping mall he was
constructing. His mansion in Eastland Heights would host the event. She’d never
been there before, but she heard it was a beautiful place with expansive
gardens on a thirty acre property.

 “Me?
Why?” The question flew out of her mouth without thinking.

“Because
you are my assistant and this involves business. You helped organize it. It’s
only fitting you be there. Wear something sexy, I want to impress the
investors,” he replied, getting up from around his desk.

She
looked at his bulging muscles beneath his mint green shirt and wondered what
they actually looked like. She found herself wondering if his skin was bare of
hair or not. His face seemed as if he shaved fresh each morning and she found
men with a little hair quite alluring.

“Where
are you off to now?” Silene heard him say and blushed.

What
the hell’s the matter with me? Why am I thinking about him all of a sudden?
“Yes,
sir, I have received a number of RSVPs. We should have a full house.”

“Good.
If there is nothing else… wait… have coffee with me at the coffee shop down the
street,” he said, picking up his gray jacket and attaché.

It was
almost five thirty and time to head on home. She wanted to stop by the boutique
to pick up a new dress. She doubted that she had anything appropriate to wear
for such an event which would be in three days. Coffee with the boss was not on
her to-do list.

“I was
thinking of doing some shopping,” she told him, trying to get out of having to
sit across from him for another hour or so.

It
wasn’t because she hated being around him. Rather, she found herself drifting
into those mini-daydreams often and it bothered her. When they sat across from
each other, his eyes would look at her, and she feels them pulling her in,
almost like a large wave swallowing her up in the ocean.
His eyes were as
blue as the ocean,
she observed.

“I’ll
take you to one of my stores,” he replied in his easy tone.

Those
eyes looked at her again, and she found herself lost once more. This time, she
caught herself staring at his lips. Embarrassed, she looked away, but not
before she was certain he knew what she was thinking. She could see it in his
eyes, the way they deepened in color.

“Okay,”
her voice sounded strange to her.

The
coffee shop was small and dainty, with a wonderful aroma of freshly roasted
beans and mouthwatering little pastries. She was hungry, so she ordered a latte
with sugar free coffee cake. Bronte opted for the black coffee, straight, no
cream or sugar. She’d learned that was the way he liked his coffee during the
past month.

“I
wanted to take you away from the office because I have something to discuss
with you,” he was saying. Her mind had drifted off again to his neck where his
Adam’s apple was located. She observed the way it moved up and down when he
spoke and wondered how it would feel if she kissed it.

“Yes?”
Her pulse picks up speed, for whatever reason, she did not know. All she could
think about was his Adam’s apple and his deep, rich voice that sounded like
dark chocolate. She had no idea what that meant, but that’s what his voice
reminded her of.

“I
wanted to know if you would consider going out with me before the party. We’ve
never been out socially, and I want you to get to know me a little before that
night,” she heard him say and her eyes flicked up to meet his.

“A
date?” She could not believe that he was asking her out.

“Yes, a
date.”

“When?”
She heard herself asked. Her heart was now going at a trillion beats per
second.

He was
looking at her breasts and heat rose up her neck, spreading across her cheeks.
“Tomorrow at eight,” he replied. “I’ll pick you up.”

It was
set. A dinner date with the most handsome man she ever set eyes on, except, he
was her boss. She had reservations about that. What would people think? What
would her colleagues think?

“Mr.
Petrakis, I’ not sure that’s a good idea,” she had to say it.

“Bronte…
you’ve been with me a month now so call me Bronte, drop the formalities,
please. We’re adults, so
us
going out should be our business.”

His
logic about them getting to know each other before the party was agreeable. It
may be awkward being with him in such a setting, so she agreed. With a twinge
of reservation about this date, came an equal amount of excitement. Deep down,
she was looking forward to it.

* * * *

He
wanted to kiss her and he knew she wanted it too. He’d seen the way she looked
at him in the office, when they had coffee, and now, sitting across from the
dinner table. He’d never felt such intense attraction to anyone before and it
was driving him wild. The minute she’d stepped into the office a month ago,
he’d fallen for her.

There
was only one problem. He had a secret he could not tell anyone. He was afraid
of hurting her, and that’s why he held back. As Bronte sat across from the
table, he realized his haste in asking Silene out to dinner. He’d made some
excuse about them getting to know each other, and now, he wasn’t sure it was
such a good idea.

He
looked at her in her burgundy dress with a V neckline dipping precariously at
her cleavage. Her creamy skin contrasted beautifully with the color, while her
full mounds invited his eyes to feast. He so wanted to bury his face between
them, inhaling her scent and ravishing them.

She
caught him watching her, and he sipped his red wine. The attraction was
unmistakable and he wasn’t sure how long he could stop himself from being with
her, if she continued to look at him that way.

She
excused herself to go to the ladies’ room which gave him the opportunity to
watch her hips sway from side to side provocatively. He felt himself grow hard
watching her. Her absence gave him a little time to reign in his feelings, and
by the time she came back, he had some amount of control.

When he
dropped her at her apartment, his plan was to see her to her door and leave,
but as she told him ‘goodnight’ those feelings he’d reigned in earlier
resurfaced. With one sweeping movement, he pulled her against his chest,
crushing her lips with his.

Her
tender lips were soft and tender beneath his. He loosened his hold and slowed
the kiss to a tender caress. Gently, he parted her lips and plunged his tongue
inside, tasting her sweetness. His tongue found hers, and when they met, a bolt
electrical current ran through him.

Reluctantly,
he had to end the kiss or risk getting into further trouble, so he pulled
himself away, cupped her face, and kissed her on both cheeks before whispering,
“Goodnight.”

She
whispered back, “G-g-goodnight.”

He
walked away before he could change his mind. He could tell she was watching him
and knew that next time they met in that kind of setting, there would be no
turning back. Could he risk it? What if she found out who he was? Would she
still want him?