Shifters, Inc. The Bear Who Loved Me (A BBW paranormal romance) Read online

  Shifters, Inc.: The Bear Who Loved Me

  Copyright 2014 by Georgette St. Clair

  This book is intended for readers 18 and older only, due to adult content. It is a work of fiction. All characters and locations in this book are products of the imagination of the author. No shifters were harmed during the creation of this book.

  License Statement

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each reader. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

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  I blog regularly at www.georgettewrites.com, and my Facebook page is at www.Facebook.com/georgettewrites.

  Heath, a bear shifter criminal turned security consultant, just got what should be a dream assignment: going undercover on a floating pleasure palace to flush out the assassin known as the Chameleon. Unfortunately, there’s one thing getting in the way of his fun: Tonya Crandall. A curvy cub reporter and a total fox – literally and figuratively - she pushes all his buttons and drives his inner bear crazy every time she shows up bugging him for an interview.

  Turns out she’s sneaked onto the giant luxury cruiser too, and she’s in way over her head. Heath suddenly finds that when anybody looks at his fox (his fox?) his bear has a way of making its displeasure known - violently – so he’ll just have to pretend she’s his companion for the duration of the cruise. When they get back to shore, the grouchy bear is going to let her know what’s what – isn’t he? Unfortunately, things are not as they seem on the Shangri-La of the Sea, and betrayal waits for both of them in the most unexpected of places.

  Chapter One

  The auction was scheduled to start in half an hour, and a casual observer scanning the room at Le Magnifique Art Gallery would have seen nothing but a sea of handsome men in tuxedos and beautiful women in evening gowns. In reality, in that crowd were several dozen security operatives who were dressed to the nines and mingling with the crowd, an art thief, and one very pissed off fox shifter.

  “I solemnly vow, I will never again start out a night by saying ‘What could possibly go wrong?’” Tonya Crandall said to her roommate Bridgit.

  “That seems like a good plan,” Bridgit agreed. “Don’t ask fate a question like that unless you want to find out the answer.”

  The answer to that question was standing across the room, near the open bar. Tonya glowered at Heath Anderson, the most annoying bear shifter in the history of…well, ever. As if sensing her presence, he looked up and met her gaze. Then he held up his glass of beer in a mock toast to her, and winked.

  Her glare deepened, and he shrugged and resumed his conversation with the beautiful brunette who seemed to have all his attention tonight. Coyote shifter, Tonya was pretty sure. She felt something tighten in her gut and looked away.

  Bridgit glanced at Tonya’s hand, wrapped in a makeshift bandage. Within minutes of showing up at Le Magnifique, Tonya had tripped and bumped into Diana Oliver, the new curator, knocking over her wineglass and somehow cutting herself. Then, while she’d been stammering her apologies, she’d felt a strange erotic tingling sweep through her body, looked up and seen Heath. The evening had not started off well.

  Diana walked by, accompanied by the gallery owner, Jacques Barbeaux. Tonya happened to know that his real name was Jack Blotsky, from Idaho, and he totally faked his French accent, but that didn’t bother her. He frequently held auctions that benefitted charity, so he could fake it all he wanted as far as she was concerned.

  Tonya waved at Diana with her bandaged hand. Diana, a tall, lean woman with a severe nose and shiny black hair, waved back. She also had a bandaid on her hand.

  “Sorry! “ Tonya called out again.

  “Don’t worry about it,” Diana called back.

  That did not set the tone for the rest of the evening, Tonya thought uneasily. This will go off without a hitch. Hammersmith has it covered.“You could go duck out back in the alley, shift into your foxy form of foxiness and heal it in, like, five seconds,” Bridgit pointed out.

  Tonya shook her head decisively. “And miss my first big scoop? Forget about it. I’ll shift once this is all over.” She was still only a freelancer at the Playa Linda Telegraph, but if she could just get one major story, she was sure they’d hire her.

  And she’d do just about anything to get that scoop. That was why she was standing ten feet away from a bronze Renaissance statuette, which was up for auction and was going to be stolen in – she glanced at her watch – two minutes. Well, the art thief was going to attempt to steal it, and Hammersmith Security was going to intercept them.

  “You’re sure that Hammersmith won’t let him get away?” Bridgit said nervously. The statuette was expected to bring in at least a hundred grand at the auction tonight, and the owner had pledged to donate the money from its sale to help build Playa Linda’s first no-kill animal shelter. Bridgit was donating the rest of the money from her trust fund, and would be on the shelter’s board of directors. The cause was very important to her.

  “They’re all over it. Look, they’re standing right next to the statue. There’s six of them,” Tonya reassured her. They were standing in a cluster, all wearing tuxedos and pretending to drink while visually scanning the room. She had to admit, they looked really obvious and not incognito at all, but still, how could the art thief get past all those shifters?

  The auction company had considered cancelling the entire event when they’d heard that they might be targeted, but Hammersmith had assured them that they would catch the thief in the act.

  She looked across the room at Heath. He was a security consultant for a company called Shifters, Inc. They were a relatively new company, only a year and a half old, and they were Hammersmith’s main rivals. They had also steadfastly refused to grant Tonya an interview, which irked her hugely. Of course, Hammersmith hadn’t given her an interview yet either, but Tom Hooper, the owner’s nephew, regularly leaked her information.

  “So, bad things come in threes,” Bridgit said. “You’ve already had three tonight, so you should be good, right? You tripped and cut your hand, your least-favorite bear showed up, and…what’s the third thing?”

  “Nothing. Yet.” Tonya looked around uneasily.

  “Oh. Well we could be in trouble then.”

  “You are not helping!” Tonya elbowed her friend in the ribs. “That’s nothing but a silly old superstition. Trust me, I’ve had plenty of days when bad luck came in the dozens. Also, you should go. Other side of the room; you promised.” Things were about to get a little too exciting, and she didn’t want to risk Bridgit getting in harm’s way.

  “I’ve never seen an actual heist before,” Bridgit protested. “This is going to be better than TV.”

  “It will be an attempted heist. And I don’t want anything to happen to you. I would never forgive myself. Well, I’d feel mildly guilty for a short period of time. Of course, your room does have the better view…”

  “I’m so touched I think I might cry,” Bridgit said drily. “Also, I swear to God Tom wants to sleep with you. Be careful of accepting favors from him.”

  Tonya was sure Bridgit was wrong, not that it would really matter. Tom wasn�
��t her type; he waxed his eyebrows and gelled his hair and apparently bathed in tubs full of cologne. Sure, he flirted with her, but he did that with all women. It was a natural reflex for him.

  “He’s just being helpful. He has no interest in my fat butt. I’m not you, Bridgit; men don’t gape in admiration when I walk into a room.”

  Bridgit was a slim blonde with big blue eyes and pre-Raphaelite curls. Tonya was, to put it kindly, full-figured. A good ten sizes bigger than her roommate, which sucked, because Bridgit had a great wardrobe and Tonya could never steal her clothes. From looking at Tonya’s big, zaftig figure, nobody would ever guess that she shifted into a cute little red fox. Bridgit’s animal, ironically, was twice Tonya’s size; she was a wolf shifter.

  Bridgit shook her head chidingly. “Seriously, Tonya, you don’t give yourself enough credit. Plenty of men like a well-padded woman.”

  Tonya shrugged, trying to banish the memory of the taunts she’d endured growing up in the children’s home. “If someone adopts you, they’ll be getting three for the price of one!”

  “That is nice of you to say. And now you must leave. Stuff’s going down. And you promised to stay out of the way.”

  She gripped her camera, which was tucked into her purse.

  “Oh, fine, funkiller,” Bridgit pouted.

  “That is what they call me,” Tonya agreed. “Along with other, less flattering names. Go.”

  Bridgit flounced off, and Tonya pulled out her camera and began snapping pictures of the guests as they circulated through the room, admiring the statues and vases on pedestals, and the art installations and paintings.

  Diana was chatting with the mayor now. Jacques was schmoozing with a senator. Le Magnifique auctions always drew the city’s elite.

  She glanced at Tom and his team again, and she felt a jolt of alarm shoot through her. They all looked glassy-eyed and out of it now. What was wrong with them? They’d been drinking so they could fit in with the other guests, but they’d been nursing the same drinks ever since they’d got there. They couldn’t possibly be drunk.

  And Heath and his group were hanging out on the opposite side of the room. Did they even know that a theft was going to take place tonight? Maybe they were just here to provide additional security? Hammersmith had received a tip from a snitch they worked with; perhaps Shifters, Inc. wasn’t as well-informed as they were.

  She shook her head and went back to taking pictures of the crowd. There was a retired movie star with a big frosted hair helmet, wearing a dress that was much too young for her. Standing nearby was her husband, the retired football superstar, already soused. But they were celebrities so she could give their pictures to the society page editor.

  “Well, well. If it isn’t my favorite cub reporter.” The deep, booming voice made her jump. She hadn’t even noticed Heath walking up to her. For a man as big and burly as he was, he moved with surprising stealth when he wanted to.

  Every time he got close to her, she felt hot arousal pulsing through her body and her heart started pounding. It was beyond frustrating, because she couldn’t stand him. Her brain knew that; why didn’t the rest of her?

  She felt her nipples swell to hard buds, and quickly crossed her arms over her chest to hide them. He was an arrogant jerk; he didn’t deserve to know the strong physical effect he had on her.

  She tipped her head back to stare up at him. He was easily six-four, a good eight inches taller than her, and built like a linebacker. His eyes were a rich brown with glints of gold, and he had a strong jaw and an amused quirk to his lips.

  “Right.” She raised an eyebrow. “Cub reporter. Because I’m a fox. That’s hilarious. We have kits, Heath, not cubs.”

  He grinned and took another sip of his beer. “I stand corrected.”

  “You’re also standing much too close, unless you’re finally ready to give me an interview.” He had somehow moved even closer to her. They were practically pressing up against each other. She swallowed hard and forced that image to the back of her mind, but not before her panties went damp with arousal.

  Heath had a lascivious gleam in his eye. “There’s plenty of things I’d like to give you, but an interview isn’t one of them.”

  “Does that kind of line work on most women?”

  He grinned at her. “Surprisingly, yes. Everyone but you. Why do you even want to talk to us? We’re not that interesting.”

  Why did he always have to do this fake flirting thing with her, when clearly he wasn’t really interested? Also, he’d just been chatting up some gorgeous coyote; it was obvious he liked to spread his favors far and wide.

  “You foiled an assassination last month,” she said patiently. She’d gone over this with him a million times. “You and your team rescued a group of kidnapped oil contractors from terrorists. Your company opened up shop only a year and a half ago and you’re already one of the most successful and sought after in your field. The Playa Linda Telegraph wants an article on you and your company.”

  He shrugged, and took another sip of his drink, visually scanning the room before returning his attention to her. “The press is the enemy, and we don’t need publicity.”

  She shot him a challenging look. “Why is Shifters, Inc. so dodgy about talking to the press? Who’s afraid to talk to the press? Guilty people. People with something to hide.”

  Heath tossed back the rest of his beer. “Yeah, yeah, freedom of the press, first amendment, blah blah. Come back when you think up something original, babe.”

  “You’ll be waiting a long damn time for that to happen!” She turned on her heel and walked off, then stopped and spluttered in indignation. “Wait, I meant I won’t…damn it. That did not come out how I intended.”

  “Very smooth.” Bridgit had snuck back, and glanced over at Heath appraisingly. “He also likes you. I think him and Tom should fight a duel to see who gets to claim you.”

  “Bridgit, I sincerely wish that all the men you think lust after me really did. I’d never be home alone on a Friday night.”

  Before Bridgit could answer, the lights blinked off and the room was plunged into darkness.

  Tonya had been expecting that. Thanks to the precautions taken by Hammersmith, the lights would be back on immediately.

  Except they weren’t, she realized, panic clutching at her.

  She heard heavy thumps, oddly sounding as if bodies were falling to the floor, and the sound of smashing glass and swearing.

  This was bad. Between Hammersmith and Shifters, Inc., all the exits should be blocked, but still…what if the thief actually got away? The animal shelter literally would not be built if the statue was stolen.

  In fox form, she had exceptional night vision. She knew what she had to do.

  She partially shifted, just her head, feeling her snout lengthen, and her eyes immediately adjusted to the pitch black. Tom and his cohorts were sprawled on the floor. They were breathing, she noted quickly, so she would deal with them later if nobody else had gone to help them.

  The thief, a tall, skinny man whom she’d spotted earlier admiring abstract paintings, was vanishing with the statuette through a door at the rear of the room.

  Chapter Two

  She dashed across the room after him, ignoring the stumbling, shrieking guests. Why the hell wasn’t anyone else chasing him? Apparently the worst security operatives in the nation were all on duty tonight.

  She ran through the door and down the hall. “Stop! I will kill you!” she screamed.

  She heard footsteps pounding behind her, and she scented Heath and some other shifter – a wolf. About damn time.

  Le Magnifique was housed in an enormous building, with the front part set up as a gallery and the rear housing their offices, warehouse and restoration workshop. She chased the thief down several hallways and into a storage room. There were shelves and boxes and crates everywhere, and the room smelled like dust. The thief wove nimbly down the alleyways created by the rows of shelves, with the statuette tucked under one arm,
but she was right behind him. She was about to tackle him – when instead, someone tackled her.

  She hit the ground with a thud.

  “Oops, sorry.” Heath didn’t sound sorry.

  “Let me go!” she howled, as Heath sprawled on top of her. “That statue is for puppies! Puppies and kittens will die if he gets away!”

  He didn’t move. He just kept her pinned down, and she heard footsteps running away, and then a door slammed open. The door led to an alley; she grimaced at the gust of sour air from the garbage bins outside. The thief’s footsteps were getting further and further away; now she could hear him climbing into a vehicle and the vehicle was taking off…he was getting away.

  What kind of heartless bastard wasn’t moved by puppies and kittens?

  The room was still pitch dark. She struggled furiously, clawing at his face and biting him on the shoulder with sharp fox fangs, but he just laughed, grabbed her hands and pinned them over her head. She stifled a gasp of arousal and was horrified to realize that her panties were completely soaked with her juices.

  Shockingly, she could sense that Heath was aroused too. She could feel the thick, hard length of him pressed against her stomach. She was sure that he wasn’t attracted to her; was it a leftover erection from talking to the hot brunette earlier?

  The lights flickered back on, and she shifted her head back to human form and glared up at him. She was completely pinned underneath him, his muscular body covering her like a blanket. He was so warm, so strong…he was also the bastard who’d deliberately let the thief get away.

  “You again.” He flashed her a feral grin. “Can I buy you a drink?”

  “Get off me, you son of a bitch! I swear to God, I am going to rip your face off the minute you set me free.”

  “Really?” He looked amused. The bastard was laughing at her. “Then why, exactly, would I let you go? I kinda like my face. I’ve grown attached to it.”

  “What’s your alternative? Are you planning on just lying here forever?” She snorted contemptuously.