The Bear King's Captive: Curvy Paranormal Shape Shifter Romance (20 page)

THIRTY-NINE

Back in her room, with tear-stained cheeks and smelling like wet dog, Leah dropped her clothes and donned a fluffy white robe and pink slippers. She wasn’t into pink, but she wasn’t complaining.

She skittered down the stairs to the hallway opposite the dining room and kitchen. When she passed the closed library door, she remembered the soft, sad Hannes from the first night. She purposely repressed the feelings he evoked in her.

The closer she came to the master suite entrance, the more nervous she grew. She placed her hand on the doorknob and her heart jumped into her throat. This was just a master suite. Hannes was not here. Go straight to the bathroom and get over this foolishness.

She turned the knob, slowly opened the door, and peeked around to make sure the room was unoccupied. The closed heavy curtains kept the room dark. She felt along the wall for a light switch and flipped it. A palatial room lay before her.

Victorian lamps with bead trimmings cast small circles of light throughout the room. The vaulted sleeping space extended into a cozy sitting area. A three-foot round table, encircled by plush reading chairs, faced a stone firebox.

As she stepped farther into the room, her feet sank into the thick maroon carpet. Her hand slid down a sculpted wood post of the king-sized canopy bed. Shadowy streaks striated the dark footboard, creating a stream that flowed over the board’s sweeping curve to the floor. The headboard reached high on the back wall with mounds of golden material tucked behind it. Draped over the bed’s comforter, a white sheet lay wrinkled with a single pillow propped against the headboard. If Hannes slept here, it didn’t look like he slept much.

Next to the pillow, a TV remote was partly hidden under the material. She turned to the wall opposite the headboard. Sheets covered all the chests, cabinets, and mirrors, leaving a twenty-inch tube television glaringly out of place.

To the right, two closed doors lined the room’s inner wall. Excited to see what majestic scene awaited her, she skipped the first door, probably a closet, and opened the second. She stared into a bathroom straight from a designer showroom. Rich, lustrous woods and granite counters.

Two doors stood closed along the far wall. One probably opened to a toilet. The second had a push-button pad with an LCD read-out mounted next to it. The numbers looked normal, but she couldn’t decipher the words. She hated not knowing their language.

She opened the door and peeked inside. Two wood bench rows, one high and one low, attached to three of the walls. In the middle of the small room, several fist-sized rocks sat on top of an electric heating element. An old wooden bucket with a straw twine handle sat on the floor. This had to be the sauna Winston spoke of.

Closing the door, she turned to the garden tub and shower directly opposite the sinks. Rolled towels and fragrant soaps filled the tub corners. Simply Heaven.

Leah turned on the tub’s chrome faucet and picked up a small pink bottle sitting to the side. She couldn’t read the words, again, but when unscrewing the cap, the soapy scent of bubble bath seeped into the air. After gathering scrubbies, and a hair clip, she stepped into the tub for a long, hot, renewing cleanse.

Winston heard the dogs bark, signaling Hannes was back. He remained in the library. If he were to meet Hannes at the door, he would punch the younger man in the face. He patiently waited.

With the laptop open on the desk, Winston watched Hannes enter the room, grumpy as usual. Hannes tromped to a cabinet, pulled out a bottle of vodka and threw down a couple of shots. He ambled around to the front of the leather sofa, sat, and put his socked feet on the rawhide coffee table.

Staring at Hannes, Winston remained silent. Hannes dropped his hands to his sides. “What?”

He turned the laptop to face Hannes. When seeing the screen, Hannes slumped his head back against the cushion and rubbed his hands over his face. “Perkele. It’s not what it looks like, Win.”

Winston pivoted the laptop around and reviewed the image. “Missing Woman Believed Drown in Lake. Quite a direct headline, plus a rather old photo of our lady guest, wouldn’t you agree?” His face burned hot with anger. “How can it not look like what it is? Since when has abduction become part of your modus operandi? I will not allow it!” His fist slammed on the desktop.

Hannes dropped his hands from his face. “Really, Win. It’s not like that.”

“No? Then what is it? An extended holiday with a stranger? Are you going to harm--” Winston glimpsed Leah ambling along the hall. She smiled and hummed to herself. Through the open library door, she saw him at the desk. Hannes sat up on the sofa. Her look lingered on him.

“Hey, guys.” Positively glowing, she strolled into the library. A downy robe wrapped around her, and pink slippers flopped on her feet. Delicate scents followed her into the room.

Winston casually closed the laptop when Leah walked around to the back of the desk. She leaned over and loudly kissed Winston’s bald top. “Thank you for finally telling me there’s a tub in the house.” She continued strolling and humming, coming up behind Hannes and the sofa.

She leaned his head back on the cushion and gave him a smacking kiss on the forehead. “And thank you for being gone. You should do it more often.” She sauntered out of the room, quietly singing again.

Both men stared as she left. Hannes breathed in her lingering fragrance. Winston closed the door. “How could you take such a kind young woman?”

Hannes slipped his feet off the table. “I didn’t take her, exactly.”

“So, I guess she jumped onto your boat because she had nothing better to do.” He tried to remain calm, but anger from injustice and selfishness filled him.

Hannes returned to the cabinet and threw down another shot.

Winston tapped his foot. “What are you going to do with her? If you hurt that child in any way…”

Hannes slammed the shot glass on a dusty shelf. “Thirty-one, Win.”

Winston lowered his brows. “What?”

“She’s thirty-one years old, not a child.”

Winston quietly ensconced himself in a chair. Turning away from the sitting area, Hannes ran his fingers through his hair.

“Are you sure?” Winston stared out the window on the far side of the room.

Hannes grunted. “Of course I’m sure.” Hannes sighed and slipped his hands into his pockets. “That’s what the kid told me.”

Winston’s mind screamed. His eyes popped wide. “What kid?” His neck stretched forward. “There is another child? Where is she?”

“It was a boy, Win.” Hannes came toward Winston. “We left him at the U.S. Embassy on the Azores Islands.”

“You bloody what?!” Winston jumped to his feet.

Hannes stepped around a low-backed chair and put his hands on Win’s shoulders. “Calm down. You’re going to have a coronary, old man. Everything is fine. No one knows we’re here. And I would never hurt Leah.”

Winston took a deep breath and calmed his mind. “That, at least, is truthful.” He walked from Hannes and leaned against the desk.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Hannes crossed his arms.

Winston raised his eyebrow. “I see how you light up whenever she walks into the room--even though you fight like children.”

Hannes traipsed around Winston, purposely avoiding the mentor’s eyes. “I do not ‘light up.’ And she always starts it.” He plopped into the chair behind the desk and opened his laptop.              

“She’s right, you are an ass.” Winston slowly shook his head and sighed.

“She called me an ass?” He chuckled.

Winston twisted around to stare at the man sitting behind him. Hannes was enjoying this. “Yes, and I totally concur.” Winston stepped away from the desk. “Dinnertime will be soon. I suppose I shall start preparations.” He turned toward the door then looked back. “This is not finished. We will resume after she retires for the evening.”

On his way to the kitchen, Winston unbuttoned and rolled up his sleeves. The girl was going back to America or Hannes would have one cheesed-off Brit on his hands.

FORTY

Strolling into the kitchen, Leah felt like a teenager in burgundy corduroys and light purple turtleneck sweater. “Mmm, smells great, Winston. Do I want to know?” She leaned against the counter.

He smiled. “Tonight is vegetables and pork. Probably different than you are accustomed, but it does originate from a pig…of sorts. By the way, how old are you?”

Leah slid onto her stool, her mouth gaping. “You’re not supposed to ask a woman how old she is or how much she weighs. Besides, I could tell you anything and you wouldn’t have a clue if I was lying or not. Damn, that reminds me, I wonder who has my backpack. Hopefully an honest person turned it in. No way can they get past the laptop’s encryption, but if they did—shit, that would be so not good.”

“If you are like this after every bath, I will not let you take another.” Winston shook his head.

Like how?” Her hands hiked to her hips.

“Yeah, like how?” Hannes walked into the room.

Winston arched a brow. “Talking a mile a minute, and yet, I have no answer. That is how.”

Hannes opened a cabinet, pulled out a box of crackers and sat at the bar, leaving an empty stool between him and Leah. “Sounds like the princess I know.”

She thumbed her nose at him and rolled her eyes. “Whatever.” She swiped the cracker box and took out a handful.

He scowled and grabbed it back. “What’s the question, anyway?”

“Thirty-one, Winston,” she said. “That’s the answer.”

“I already told you.” Hannes crunched his cracker.

“How do you know?”

Hannes imitated Leah’s looks of disgust--rolling eyes included. “Uh. The kid told me.”

“I don’t do that.” She hit him in the arm.

Hannes and Winston said, “Yes, you do.”

“Fine.” Leah sat straight on her stool. “I’ll just keep to myself.” She put several crackers in her mouth and stared at the freezer across the kitchen.

“That would be a first,” Hannes muttered.             

She lifted her chin and swiveled the barstool to put her back to them. Winston chuckled and returned to the stove. Leah listened to Hannes crunch his crackers. She wheeled around. “You chew loud.”

“Chew loud?” Hannes coughed. “How can someone chew loud?”

“She is correct,” Winston said. “I hear you crunching over here. You must have thin cheeks.”

Leah hopped off her stool and gave Winston a “high five” hand slap then returned to her place.

“Win, whose side are you on?” Hannes said.

“I am on my own side. I am neither an ass nor a princess.”

Both Leah and Hannes burst out laughing. Hannes leaned toward Leah. “I know you called me an ass.”

She tilted his way. “I was being nice.” She smiled and sat straight.

He put another cracker in his mouth. “By the way, the formal room looks fantastic.”

“Thank you.” Winston replaced the lid on a pot. “We worked all morning and into the afternoon.”

Hannes stared at Leah with playful wide eyes. “You even worked?”

“Oh, please.” She gave him an indignant look, but didn’t roll her eyes. “Just because you call me princess, doesn’t mean I am one.” She slid off the stool and crossed the tiled floor to the fridge. “I’m not a wuss. I’ve been on my own since I was sixteen. And I’ve done damn well for myself.” She pulled out the cocoa. “Anybody want anything?”

Winston politely declined. But the ass spoke up. “I’ll have a beer.”

Leah poured her glass and grabbed a dark brown bottle. “I don’t know about the women here, but I can hold my own.” She handed the container to Hannes. “Speaking of strong women, what is a wife-carrying championship?”

After a deep chug, Hannes put his beer down. “Where did you hear about that?”

“Winston and I found a trophy in the living room.” She looked down her nose at him. “Do you uncouth men make the wives carry all the groceries, firewood, and your beer?” She sipped from her cocoa mug. “Sounds barbaric.”

“Do you really want to know what wife-carrying is?” Hannes eyed her.

She pulled up her sweater sleeve and flexed her bicep. “Bring it on. I can carry a lot of weight.”

Hannes rose from his stool. “It’s not you who needs to worry. Step back.”

Leah complied. In the blink of an eye, Hannes squatted, shoved Leah over his shoulder and sprang up.

She screamed and grabbed hold of the backside of his shirt. “What are you doing? Put me down!”

Winston roared with laughter. “You asked.”

“A lot of help you are.” Her hair hung straight down over her face.

Hannes swung her around in circles. “Okay, first thing is to warm up.”

“Put me down. I’m going to puke on you!”

“It’s only crackers. I can live with that.” He jogged out of the kitchen and down the hall. “Next, they run several meters.”

Leah choked on laughs as she bounced on his shoulder--words coming in rhythm with each leap. “Put…me…down.”

Hannes hiked into the formal living room. “They go over obstacles.” He lunged over a French 1789 footstool and spun in fast circles while she screeched and laughed. He dashed up several stairs. “Many obstacles…” He treaded back to the floor, Leah’s head bobbing up and down with each step.

“Okay, I get it. Wife carrying,” she said, laughing. “You’re carrying your wife.”

“It’s about time. But wait! There’s more.” Hannes trotted around chairs, statues, and tables. Leah grabbed his waist and pushed up. The sudden shift in weight threw Hannes off balance, sending them straight into the wall. She squeezed her eyes shut and squealed. He shoved off and kept going.

Leah guffawed, unable to form words. Hannes swatted her derrière. “Stop laughing. This is serious.”

Laughing turned to snorting. “Is that part of the race?”              

“No. I threw it in.” He jogged toward the front doors. “Now comes the most difficult aspect. It’s what my parents called ‘The Ditch.’”