The Billionbear's Bride: BBW Bear Shifter BWWM Paranormal Romance (9 page)

In the luxurious, oversized, gilt bathroom—excuse her, it was probably called a
water closet
or something—Violet splashed cool water on her face while trying not to let it ruin her makeup. It helped.

At the sink, she could feel Wanda watching her. Violet mentally brace herself for questions about her relationship with Bruce and friendly concern before asking, "What is it?"

"What?" But Wanda started guiltily.

"Come on, spit it out already."

Her friend still hesitated before saying, "Has Bruce … talked to you?"

"Talked to me?" Violet was bewildered and caught off-guard. "About what?"

Wanda's mouth set in a grimace. "Never mind. You'd know if he had."

"But you know what it is … whatever it is." Violet's thoughts raced ahead of herself. Whatever Wanda was talking about, it sounded bad. Did he have grandparents who were members of the Klan? An insane wife locked in the attic? Anything she could think of seemed absurd.

As if her friend could read her mind, Wanda rushed to reassure her. "It's just something about himself. About his family. He ought to have told you." A spasm of annoyance crossed her face. "Now that you guys are getting serious, it seems like …"

Violet pushed down her initial reaction, which was defensiveness. Wanda was her friend; she had Violet's best interests at heart. No doubt she was just trying to protect her. "Why don't you tell me?"

Wanda shook her head. "It's not mine to tell." She grimaced again, this time in regret. "I'm sorry, this shouldn't ruin your night. Just … get him to talk to you later. Promise?"

Violet was mystified, but she agreed. "Give me a couple extra minutes here. Go back to dinner."

She replaced a few stray hairs that had come loose and inspected her makeup. She didn't have raccoon eyes, which was good; she had a bad habit of sometimes rubbing her eyes without thinking. She tried to think of whatever Bruce should have told her, but couldn't come up with anything.

I guess that's why they call it a secret
.

It was important to Wanda, but not life-or-death, or she would have said something herself. Violet decided she was okay with that. Whatever Bruce was holding back, it would be fine. She took one more look at herself and decided to return.

Out in the hallway, one of the caterers brushed very close to her. Violet turned.

It took her a minute to place him, but it was the caterer she'd seen earlier. The one who had been watching her. Up close, she could see his slicked-back hair and narrowed eyes. He was tall, almost as tall as Bruce, and nearly a broad and strong.

His hand on her upper arm stopped her.

"Is there something I can help you with?" The first frissons of fear began to take hold.

He glared at her. It was more than just the irritation of a bumped stranger; she felt with a dark, deep dread that he
hated
her. Even though he didn't know her.

"Yeah," he said. "You can come with me."

Violet opened her mouth to say something, something that would make people come running, but as soon as she did he covered her mouth with a damp cloth.

She gasped, and inhaled a sweet, pungent smell. There was something on the rag, she thought dimly. She tried to gather her wits to shout, to struggle, but fear made her breathing faster and dulled her mind. Wooziness set in, followed by blackness.

Chapter Ten

Bruce

It had been several minutes since Violet had gone to the bathroom. Bruce knew it was pathetic, but he missed her already. Normally he hated these things, so full of pomp and politics, but her presence had made it bearable. In fact, he'd almost been enjoying himself all evening. Now a nameless dread had crept into him. Was it the mate bond, or just his overactive imagination?

He leaned over to murmur in his assistant's ear. "Shouldn’t she be back by now?"

Wanda cast a glance in the direction of the bathroom. "She was right behind me," she said doubtfully. "Maybe something happened. I'll go check on her."

She returned a few minutes later, laying a hand on his shoulder and looking decidedly more concerned. Though she spoke quietly, he heard the thread of worry lacing her voice. "She's not there, and I didn't see her anywhere. I also tried calling her. She didn't pick up."

He pushed back his chair. He was much more concerned about Violet than what some la-di-dah society ladies would think of him.

"We'll find her," he said, not sure if he was reassuring her or himself.

Together, they checked the rest of the gathering, the hallways, and all of the other bathrooms she might have stepped into. Each time he saw Wanda, the concerned furrow in her brow had grown deeper. Violet was nowhere to be found.

Outside, the cold air was bracing as he spoke to the limo driver that had chauffeured them. She hadn't seen Violet, and Violet wasn't in the waiting car. More than half an hour had elapsed since Wanda has last seen her.

"My car's still here, too," Wanda said grimly, tucking her fingers into her armpits and shivering in her dress. "Not that she had the key, but I thought I'd check …"

He scanned the lot, his fear mounting. When they'd arrived, he hadn't paid attention to the cars that were already here. Now he couldn't tell if any were missing. He cursed himself. If she hadn't left of her own free will, someone must have taken her.

His mind returned to Jim's threat. He'd thought his ex-friend was all bravado. If he was honest with himself, he hadn't taken Jim seriously. He'd thought it was all bark and no bite; Jim liked to bluster. But maybe he'd been serious after all.

And now Violet was in trouble, and it was his fault.

"Do you think there are cameras out here?" he asked. "We might see something if she was taken."

Biting her lip, Wanda looked around—at the cars, at Bruce's limo, at the doors to the building. Anywhere but at Bruce. Gradually he became aware that she was avoiding his gaze.

"Wanda?"

She jumped, and began babbling immediately. "I'm so sorry, Bruce. I was talking to her in the bathroom, and I asked if you had talked to her yet, and I might have upset her—I think she might have left because of what I said—"

Bruce's mind was spinning in a panic. "You told her? About my bear?" In his shock he forgot to lower his voice. Fortunately, no one was around to hear them.

"No!" she protested. "Of course not! But I told her to talk to you," she added miserably. There were tears forming in her eyes. "I think this is all my fault. She ran away because of me."

He took a deep breath and tried to think rationally. "So she was upset?"

"I don't … I
didn't
think so," said Wanda uncertainly. "But she must have been, right?"

"Not necessarily. There was … Someone threatened her recently." His hope that she was just upset began to fade, and the sense of danger rose in its stead. It was the mate bond, he knew now. It had been tingling at his senses ever since she had gone missing, but he hadn't recognized it, and now it was growing stronger.

Wanda's guilt faded, to be replaced with alarm. "What?"

They were interrupted by the ringing of a cell phone. After a moment Bruce realized it was his.

The name on the screen read
Violet
. He wanted to feel relieved, but he still sensed the danger she was in.

He answered the phone. "Violet?"

There was a moment of silence.

"I'm afraid not," said the very male voice on the other end, with unmistakable pleasure. It was Jim.

Bruce's bear roared inside him. It was a struggle not to transform right then and there. The cold wind bit into Bruce's face, but his rage warmed him.

"Where's Violet?" he demanded.

"Was that her name?" Jim sounded bored.

Bruce's heart stuttered in his chest.
Was?
"Have you hurt her? I swear to God, Jim, if you hurt a hair on her head …"

"Relax. She's fine. I would put her on the line, but she's a little unconscious right now."

Bruce clenched his teeth and held back a growl. If Jim had been in front of him right then, he might have torn his old friend's head from his shoulders. No regrets.

Instead, he took another deep breath. Jim had Violet, that much was clear. He had snatched her right from underneath Bruce's nose. And Bruce had been too complacent to notice. He had let it happen, just sat back like a lazy bear, a failure of an alpha and a mate—

His thoughts were spinning out of control again. He had to play nice with Jim—at least until he found out where Violet was.

"What do you want, Jim?" Despite his efforts, the hint of a bear's growl laced through his voice.

"What do I want?" Jim echoed. His words earlier had been reserved, even bored; now some anger was showing through the cracks in his disinterested façade. "It's a funny time for you to start caring about that."

"What do you mean?"

"I
mean
, you didn't have any problem grinding what I wanted beneath your heel
before
, when you had me maneuvered out of my own company," spat Jim. Bruce heard a deep inhale crackle over the line, like Jim was trying to calm himself down.

"This doesn't have anything to do with Violet," Bruce said. He tried to be soothing for Violet's sake, even though it grated on him. If Bruce pissed him off, Violet might pay the price. "Why don't you let her go and we can work this out?"

Jim barked a sharp, unhappy laugh. "She's part of this, too. But I do want to 'talk' to you." His contemptuous tone suggested it would be a one-sided discussion. "Come to the bluff. You know where. No police, no company, or I'll kill her immediately. I've got a gun. I swear I will."

Click
. Jim had hung up.

In his frustration, Bruce gripped his phone so hard there was an audible crack in the case, before he remembered himself.

Wanda was watching him with wide, frightened eyes. She had heard enough.

"Do you know where she is?" she asked.

He did. There was only one place Jim could mean.

When they were in college, just two kids with big dreams, they'd spent a lot of weekends together hunting and hanging out in the wilderness. Together they'd discovered a little bluff overlooking the ocean. The world had seemed so large then, so full of possibility. They'd had grand plans in those days. Now that place seemed tainted in Bruce's memory. Bitterly, he rued ever meeting Jim.

Had there always been this darkness, this hate inside his friend? Bruce couldn't tell. Maybe Jim had been fooling him all along, and he'd just been too stupid and naïve to tell. Or maybe he had become this person—stalker, kidnapper—when Bruce wasn't looking.

He'd thought Jim would never stoop so low, but it was clear Bruce had been wrong about him. He couldn't trust that Jim would never—would never do what he threatened. He couldn't call the police. He couldn't risk Violet's safety.

He would have to settle this himself.

* * *

The bluff looked, strangely, exactly how Bruce remembered it. He'd thought it would look different, changed somehow, because
he
was different. But it was just the same. Brown grasses surrounded them as they stood on the dune overlooking the beach.

When his headlights had illuminated the two figures, both anger and relief had welled up in him. She was standing—she was alive. He had known it from the mate bond, but there was something reassuring about seeing her with his own two eyes. But Jim had gagged her and bound her hands. One hand rested casually, offensively, on his mate's shoulder; Bruce snarled possessively and instinctually. The other hand held a pistol, the metal gleaming in the moonlight.

At least it was pointed at the ground. If Jim aimed it at Violet he didn't know what he'd do.

Jim's hand gave a light shove, and Violet stumbled forward a step.

Bruce snarled and started to move before he'd even realized what he was doing.

The gun came up. "Nuh-uh-uh," said Jim warningly, and Bruce halted in his tracks.

From here, he could see his mate up close. Violet was quiet, but her eyes were wide and red-rimmed. She'd been crying.

"Did he hurt you?" he asked quietly.

There was a moment of hesitation, and then she shook her head. There weren't any bruises or blood that Bruce could see; still, that didn't always mean anything.

"Jim, this is between you and me," he told Jim.
Calm, like you're coaxing a wild animal
. "Why don't you let her go and we'll talk."

Instead of calming him down, that only made Jim sneer. "
You and me
," he repeated mockingly. "Was that what kicking me out of my own company was about?"

You got yourself kicked out
, Bruce thought, but of course he couldn't say that. "I know things haven't been easy for you."

"Easy?" spat Jim. "Yeah, no shit, Sherlock, things haven't been
easy
. Thanks to you."

Bruce eyed him warily. Jim was jumpy; the gun waved around while he was talking. He might do anything in this angry state. If Bruce shifted to his bear form, the element of surprise would be on his side—and if Jim did manage to get a bullet off, it wouldn't be as harmful to his other side.

But Violet was in the way, and she was frightened enough as it was. Bruce held back.

"I've been thinking—thinking of what would be an appropriate punishment. What would hurt you as much as you hurt me. Then
she
came along." The barrel of the gun pointed briefly at Violet.

Bruce thought quickly. "You haven't hurt anyone yet. You don't have to. I know your job was important to you, Jim, but—"

"My
job
?" Jim's voice rose with incredulity. "What about my life? My
marriage
?" Seeing Bruce's surprised look, Jim continued, "That's right. Colleen left me."

"I'm sorry about Colleen," said Bruce honestly. "I didn't know."

Jim snorted. "All because you couldn't handle someone altering your precious designs."

Bruce wasn't sure it was worth trying to convince him otherwise, but he forged ahead. "I thought I was doing the right thing. I was worried about safety.
Kids'
safety."

That earned him another disparaging look from Jim. "That was more important than
me
?" He shook his head in disgust. "I shouldn't be surprised. You're not even human."

Bruce went very still, and his eyes darted to Violet. Her face was tear-streaked but confused. She didn't know what Jim was talking about.

Jim caught side of Bruce's consternation and laughed. "You haven't told her? Oh, this is
rich
."

Bruce kept his voice calm and even. Denial, denial, denial. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Then you won't mind if
I
tell her, will you?" Jim smirked. "He's been keeping secrets from you, you know."

"
Jim
," Bruce said warningly.

"You think
I'm
the monster, but I'm not," Jim said, sounding distressingly earnest, even imploring. "He's the real monster. He's an animal—a wild animal. He tore up my life and left it in shreds."

Violet glanced back and forth between Bruce and Jim. Uncertainty shined in her eyes. It pierced Bruce's calm façade to see her so distressed.

"You didn't even know what you were getting into bed with, did you?" Jim asked Violet. "He doesn't deserve you. He doesn't deserve to be happy at all. Not when he ruined my happiness." His face twisted in childish pique, and the gun came up.

A decision faced Bruce. He could keep his secret and risk Violet getting hurt. Or he could reveal himself.

In a split second, he chose.

Bruce
shifted
. His bones elongated and thickened into a powerfully strong frame; his muscles grew and stretched to wrap around them. Fur sprouted from his skin, his clothing fell in tatters around him, and the beginnings of a roar rumbled from his throat.

In the darkness, his bear could see more clearly than he could in human form. Jim's fear was painted clear as day on his face, and it provided an opening for Bruce.

He reacted at light speed, darting forward on the bluff. His bear no longer recognized the figure in front of him as Jim-his-old-friend, but only as someone who was hurting his mate, igniting a protective fury in Bruce.