The Bear's Hired Mate: A Paranormal Bear Shifter Romance (6 page)

Vincent reached forward for the pancakes. “I could eat this, but I prefer fresh fish and foliage from the area. As a bear, it’s easier to find the resources out there than as a human. You’d be surprised at the bounty.”

“Huh,” Jane said around a bit of maple syrup. “And you’re going to take over the clan? What will happen to Midnight Ink?”

Vincent sighed. “I’m hoping to do both. At least keep my foot in the world of tattooing. I don’t know what I would do without my art. I may have to transfer ownership to Xavier or another clan member when I officially become leader, but I’m hoping to always own Midnight Ink and tattoo from here. It’s always been my baby,” he finished honestly.

“Then I don’t think you should give it up. It’s all about scheduling your time correctly,” Jane said with a smile.

Vincent smiled back and then frowned down at his phone when it began to ring. Checking the number, his face grew serious “I’m sorry Jane, I have to take this.”

Jane watched Vincent’s broad back retreat out of the room. It was covered with a huge piece that looked to be a scene with a bear and birds flying free. She hadn’t noticed it last night. Only thinking that his front was devoid of tattoos, which was odd for a tattoo artist. It seemed as though he had made up for it with his back.

Standing up, she decided to get dressed and ready for the day. Huge life shocks aside, she needed to check all the emails and coordinate anything new on the agendas. God knew with these bears there was always a last minute change.

Out in the living room, Vincent was listening to the board members talking over each other. There had been another “incident”; no one was calling it an attack. Again, it was the neighboring werebear clan. This time it was a different set of bears, not cubs, who had started a bar fight in an outlying locals bar. It wasn’t anywhere near the territory lines, instead the bar had been miles inside of Mezzanotte territory. Other clans were allowed to visit and enjoy other clan’s territories, but it was odd that something like a bar fight would happen only weeks after the robbery and break-in.

Warning signals were shooting off in Vincent’s head but just as he was about to speak and say that he thought these were planned attacks, his father announced that they would be dismissing this, too. Vincenzo would personally contact the leader of the other clan, but it would be nothing more than a friendly warning. On one hand, Vincent thought it was probably the most diplomatic choice. But if these were planned, then they were allowing their rivals to get more and more saturated in their territory; slowly building a network where the big attack that finally came would be swift and strong. At the very least, Vincenzo should show more pride in his land.

But when Vincent suggested this, Vincenzo struck him down swiftly, berating him in front of the board saying that he was a rash and hot-headed cub. Vincent snapped his mouth shut and didn’t say another word for the rest of the conversation. He wanted to do nothing, revel in “I told you so” when this all blew up in his father’s face. But the weight of his leadership was heavy on his conscious. Vincent decided he’d send some clan members on a recon mission.

Hanging up with the group phone meeting, Vincent called up Xavier and asked if he would gather a group of weres to do some recon in the other territory. Investigate the locations where the attacks had happened and make friends with some weres in the other territory. Vincent said he wanted a briefing in a week to bring to his father. Hanging up the phone, Vincent felt the weight of the world on his shoulders: a mate to initiate, a clan to investigate, and a father to deal with. It all seemed like too much until Jane entered the room with her big smile, and his soul felt just a little bit lighter.

CHAPTER FIVE

Throughout the day, Jane kept surprising herself with the events of the past twenty-four hours. Jane felt like she could go a solid twenty minutes wrapped up in her work before she’d have something that reminded her of her life changing. For example, she’d have to walk into the studio to update an artist or ask a question and she’d look over at Vincent bent over the body of his client and think about how he’d taken her right there on the leather chair. Or she’d get an email on the bear account and remember that her nickname for the clan was literal.

Jane had started writing down the questions she had regarding the clan as they came up. What was the clan name? How many of the other assistants knew? Were there other were clans? Were there other were species? Would he have to marry a werebear?

Jane stared down at her final question biting her lipstick red lip. Carrie appeared behind her with a diet cola and pronounced an emphatic “No.”

Jane spun around, clutching the list to her chest. Carrie stood tall and slender in black jeans and a ripped gray t-shirt. Her hair was artfully pinned up and should have been totally at odds with her ensemble, but the whole package simply made her look like a supermodel. Blinking her eyes, Jane asked, “Excuse me? But, no what?”

“No, werebears do not have to marry other werebears. We can marry humans or other were species. With humans, our offspring become werebears and with other species it follows the species of the father.” Carrie finished by taking a sip of her soda, the picture of innocence.

“You’re a werebear, too??” Jane whispered loudly, her eyes flicking from side to side as if she was being stalked.

“Yup. So are Xavier and two of the other artists. The rest are human and don’t know. You’re the only human in the shop in on the secret.”

Jane just blinked. It made sense. Carrie and Xavier were far larger than your average human and were otherworldly beautiful. It seemed to make sense. Jane should have seen it. “Wow. I mean now that you told me I totally see the similarities, but I have to admit, I was still getting over the shock of such a species even existing. I wasn’t thinking that there would be more people I knew who were were.”

“It’s OK sweetie,” Carrie said patting her on the back. “You’ll find it’s a bit anticlimactic. It doesn’t change much in the end. Most humans we tell are a little disappointed to find that we’re still normal people. Just really old normal people.”

Jane rolled her eyes. “Old normal people who can turn into bears.”

“Well, yes, there is the whole bear thing. But that’s really more of a personality issue. It makes for very possessive lovers,” Carrie said with an eyebrow wiggle.

Jane was spared Carrie’s inquiry as her next tattoo walked through the door. Carrie finished her soda and tossed it in the trash with a look that told Jane she was not off the hook, just because Carrie couldn’t grill her right now. Jane answered the parlor’s phone, as Carrie walked into the studio with her client.

“Hello, this is Midnight Ink, Jane speaking,” Jane answered automatically pulling up the scheduling software and the parlor’s email. One of the two was usually necessary during a phone call. Jane murmured and nodded along, even though the client couldn’t see her. She closed the email and went into the scheduler to remove Vincent’s last appointment for the day. He wasn’t going to be happy, it was a six-hour session that took him to the end of the day. Since the appointment was to start in an hour, it was nearly impossible to fill right away. Jane pulled up a list of potential clients waiting for cancellations on her iPad and went into Vincent’s studio to let him know the situation.

She paused outside the door to Vincent’s office. Taking a deep breath, she straightened her beige lace top above her dark wash jeans. This was the first time Jane was going to see Vincent since they’d left his suite that morning. Vincent had been pulled into meetings all morning and had only just escaped having to go into the clan offices because of his scheduled tattoo. Taking a deep breath and knocking at his door, she waited till his deep voice growled out “Come in,” before opening the door.

The office wasn’t large. Jane had always wondered why such a large man had ended up in such a small space. Vincent’s size made the average square footage look like a broom closet. His eyes flicked up to hers and back down again to the documents printed out in front of him. Holding up one finger he finished reading before beckoning her over.

When Jane approached the desk Vincent motioned her to come around and he sat her in his lap before asking, “What’s up? Is my tattoo here already?” He checked his watch with one arm while the other wrapped around Jane’s waist holding her tight.

Perhaps it was inappropriate for work, but Jane liked the feeling of being tight against him. His warmth relaxed her worried mind. “No, just the opposite actually. I’m coming to say that your tattoo just called in a last minute cancellation.” Jane revealed the bad news and pulled out the iPad to review the options with Vincent. “OK, so here is the list of people waiting for cancellations that want to be moved up in the schedule. It’s a little iffy that anyone will be ready for a tattoo so last minute, but you never know. Do you want me to start with someone in particular? Or just run down the list?”

Vincent took the iPad from Jane and scanned the list, none of the tattoos were as appealing as keeping Jane to himself for a little longer. “Do you have my schedule up as well?” Vincent asked, an idea forming in his mind.

Jane swiped at the screen and opened another app. “Here you go. This is up to date as of five minutes ago. We haven’t had a change in today’s schedule since ten this morning. So I think it’s going to stay pretty set. You’ve got lots of time free for a big tattoo, if that’s what you’re thinking.” Pointing to the list of clients, Jane continued, “This guy wants a pretty intricate forearm tattoo and he’s local, I think he’s your best bet.”

Vincent switched back to his schedule and thought about free time. He never had much. Jane’s job was based on the fact that he was highly in demand. Vincent allowed himself a deep sniff of the scent of his mate and he noticed how it both turned him on as well as relaxed him. It was like the finest drug, and the addiction was strong. Vincent couldn’t give up an opportunity to keep Jane close for a few more hours. He wanted her to be comfortable with him after the big reveal of the werebear secret this morning and besides, Vincent wanted to have a little fun.

Shutting off the iPad, Vincent lifted Jane off his lap and stood up as well. Jane turned around and looked at Vincent expectantly. “So who should I call?”

Vincent looped his arms around Jane’s tiny waist. “You’re not going to call anyone. We’re going to take the rest of the day off.”

Jane put a hand up on her hip. “Seriously Vincent? I mean, you have time, but who is going to cover me?”

“Xavier’s going to cover you. He knows the rules and has the night free. He’s in the studio giving Carrie bullshit while she works. Plus Xavier owes me a favor. Come on, let me show you a night out on the town. I know for a fact that you have yet to explore Las Vegas. You spend every night watching me finish tattoos and then head to your bed. Let me show you what fun the strip can be.”

Vincent’s hands were rubbing across the base of Jane’s spine and the motion was beginning to give her tingles in places that should not be touched in an office the size of a broom closet. Jane had never been one to shirk her duties at work. She’d never used a sick day for “mental health” and if she was scheduled to be at work for a set period of time she was always there, never slipping out early or walking in a few minutes late. But looking up into Vincent’s eyes, Jane wondered if he needed this as much or more than her. It would be nice to just get away for a few hours. Stop thinking about schedules and life changing secrets like, “were-beings were real!” So Jane allowed herself to smile and saw the expression mirrored on Vincent’s face.

“Well, I suppose if it’s OK with my boss…” Jane teased.

Vincent answered by kissing her senseless and setting the iPad down on the desk. Grabbing her hand, he started walking toward the front of the parlor. When they reached the entrance to the studio, Vincent peeked his head in and informed Xavier that he was in charge of the shop and that Vincent and Jane were off for the night. Xavier looked like he might argue for a second, but Vincent’s “You owe me,” was enough to shut him up and have him follow Vincent and Jane out to the front.

“OK, my man, do not contact me for any reason other than death or dismemberment. Don’t try to go through Jane either. We’re going off the grid for the rest of the day.”

Xavier quirked an eyebrow, eyeing Jane and Vincent closely. “Well, that was quick.”

“Huh?” Jane asked.

Vincent glared at Xavier and only said, “Yeah, we’re sorry to inconvenience you last minute.” He’d deliberately misunderstood Xavier’s gentle shove at his seemingly sudden acceptance of his mate. Instead, Vincent placed his hand on the small of Jane’s back and directed her out of Midnight Ink.

As they exited the parlor and entered the general fray of the Mezzanotte’s busy casino, Jane moved to turn back into Midnight Ink. “Oh, Vincent, I don’t have my purse! Hold on just one minute and I’ll grab it.”

Vincent tightened his grip on Jane. “Nope. Jane, today is all on me. Just relax and let me show you a good time.”

Jane gave Vincent side-eye for a moment and decided she’d let him have his way because he looked lighter and freer than she’d ever seen him. It was as if a weight had been lifted from his shoulders, just by taking her out of Midnight Ink. Jane sometimes saw glimpses of this Vincent when he was tattooing; He looked younger, happier, in those moments. But now, walking away from every obligation, it wasn’t just a momentary glance but a solid change. Vincent’s smile revealed dimples that melted her insides. Jane decided she’d say yes to just about anything to keep this version of Vincent with her.

“First let’s head to the Bellagio, they’ve got the best shops on the strip,” Vincent suggested.

“Actually, first can I slip a coin into the slot machine? I have yet to gamble here in Las Vegas and I think there’s something intrinsically wrong in that.”

Vincent grinned and reached into his pocket to hand her a casino token. “By all means, we need to rectify this immediately.”

The slot machine was a bit of a bust. It ate Jane’s casino token, but it was still the start of a great night. From the dud of a slot machine, they moved on to the Bellagio’s famous shopping. Vincent took her into a boutique where the dresses weren’t tagged. Instead, the shop girls set Jane up in a creamy velvet dressing room where Vincent sat outside in an overstuffed wingback chair. They popped a bottle of champagne and brought Jane a steady stream of beautiful clothing.

They’d started with a foundation of light pink lacy underwear that was somewhat embarrassing for her to model in front of the woman who brought them in. But the girl only looked Jane up and down and confirmed that it fit her perfectly. From there, Jane tried on several pairs of jeans and tops ranging from hippy, floaty scraps of fabric to artfully cut out and scooped Lycra shirts that showed off all of her best bits.

Next came a parade of dresses. Pleated maxis that fell to the floor and micro minis made out of bands of stretchy fabric she’d seen people like the real housewives wear. Each outfit came with jewelry and shoes, and Jane adored playing dress up. Vincent, for his part, seemed to be enjoying the event as much as she was. Jane was thankful that this man seemed to find no faults with her body; his eyes roaming her form and taking in his fill every time she stepped out into the private annex attached to her dressing room. Jane was equally as thankful that she didn’t have her wallet on her because there was an especially lovely pencil skirted sheath dress that would be awesome for work. However, Jane was pretty sure even the combination of her entire bank account and life savings may not cover the price of the garment, but with no tag it was hard to tell.

As the bottle of bubbly emptied, the woman brought in one last dress. Vincent had made the request to see her in it. It was a simple silhouette, thin strapped and scoop-necked, with a pencil skirt at the bottom. But the fabric was divine. The shop girl informed her that it was Italian lace, hand painted with real gold paint. The dress fit her like a glove and wore lighter than air despite the thick lacework. Paired with a pair of strappy gold stilettos and large diamond studs Jane looked like one of the pin-ups Vincent drew. She was womanly and beautiful and she’d never felt so good in her life. The shop girl completed the look by pinning up her hair in a loose bun.