The Bear King's Captive: Curvy Paranormal Shape Shifter Romance by Milly Taiden Page B
Authors: Milly Taiden
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was coming. I swear.”
He repositioned in his chair. If she thought she could pull a no-show against his order…he glanced at his watch. 1800. Being late was unacceptable. Every second counted in a mission; being one minute late could be the difference between life and death.
Remaining outwardly calm, he propped his elbows on the table. Ivan and Maricio took the last two seats along the table’s sides, leaving the chair at the foot, directly opposite him, available.
Time crawled while everyone sat in silence. Patience. The longer he thought about her, the more fury built. He looked at his watch. 1806. He delivered a solid pound onto the table with his fist. Glasses and silverware jumped, making a clatter when landing.
“I’m going to kill her.” He rocketed from his chair, almost knocking it over. Turning toward the exit, his eye caught a white flash. He snapped around, but the hallway outside the door remained silent. Even though his intuition remained quiet, he reached behind his back and under his jacket.
A second later, Leah’s head popped into view from the side of the doorframe. “Thank god! I wasn’t sure how to get here.” A smile lifted her face. She tugged on her dress and sauntered into the room.
His heart skipped a beat. Who was this luscious woman? Her deep dress neckline teased with each heavy breath. The flush on her face brought a sparkle to her eyes and warm red to her lips.
Reminding himself to breathe, he let his arm fall to his side. Simultaneously, all at the table turned to see what quelled their commander’s rampage.
She looked each man in the eye. Be nice. “Good morning, afternoon or evening, gentlemen. Whatever time it is for you.” Several strands of hair lay wispy against her face. She tucked them behind her ear. Her every move sent tingles down his chest, gathering below his belt.
With her chin up and a cocked brow, she spoke directly to him. “Sorry, I’m fashionably late.” Her gritty voice gently throbbed in his head.
He watched her as she passed. The dress hugged her curves and flowed with the sway of her hips. How he desired to see what the thin white material covered. Another thrill ran through him. He cleared his throat and turned to the table. This seraph cleaned up well. Everyone’s eyes followed her. Maybe cleaned up too well.
Passing Otso on her way to the other end of the table, Leah couldn’t interpret the look in his eyes. It wasn’t anger, so she pushed it out of her mind. She sat and placed the white linen napkin across her lap and glanced up. Otso’s expressionless face stared at her from the far end of the table.
A flash of disappointment coursed through her. She’d hoped he liked how she looked, but he gave no indication he cared one way or another. She tilted her chin down, looked up at him, and shined the most innocent smile she could. He grimaced and looked at his plate.
If she were anywhere else, she’d be laughing so hard, she’d be crying. He wasn’t in control of her, and it irritated the hell out of him.
Leah picked out the onions in the meat sauce and ate quietly with everyone else. Discreetly, she eyed each man at the table. These were “his men.” The four at his end of the table resembled Paul Bunyan with big muscles and stout chests. The three Spanish men sitting closer to her looked like somebody she’d see on the sidewalk in California. For bounty hunters, they blended well. Where was Diego? Not that she cared…
If she and Ivan were going to get out of this alive, she’d have to pretend friendship with these men, play politely. Be non-threatening. Maybe even come on to Otso. She pinched her thigh. What a stupid, childish idea. But that’s not what her body said.
Her body wanted her to come on to him. It was actually trying to encourage the crazy thoughts running rampant in her brain about him, her, a bed, and lots of moaning and groaning. Damn. She needed to think of something else.
Maybe now was the perfect
He repositioned in his chair. If she thought she could pull a no-show against his order…he glanced at his watch. 1800. Being late was unacceptable. Every second counted in a mission; being one minute late could be the difference between life and death.
Remaining outwardly calm, he propped his elbows on the table. Ivan and Maricio took the last two seats along the table’s sides, leaving the chair at the foot, directly opposite him, available.
Time crawled while everyone sat in silence. Patience. The longer he thought about her, the more fury built. He looked at his watch. 1806. He delivered a solid pound onto the table with his fist. Glasses and silverware jumped, making a clatter when landing.
“I’m going to kill her.” He rocketed from his chair, almost knocking it over. Turning toward the exit, his eye caught a white flash. He snapped around, but the hallway outside the door remained silent. Even though his intuition remained quiet, he reached behind his back and under his jacket.
A second later, Leah’s head popped into view from the side of the doorframe. “Thank god! I wasn’t sure how to get here.” A smile lifted her face. She tugged on her dress and sauntered into the room.
His heart skipped a beat. Who was this luscious woman? Her deep dress neckline teased with each heavy breath. The flush on her face brought a sparkle to her eyes and warm red to her lips.
Reminding himself to breathe, he let his arm fall to his side. Simultaneously, all at the table turned to see what quelled their commander’s rampage.
She looked each man in the eye. Be nice. “Good morning, afternoon or evening, gentlemen. Whatever time it is for you.” Several strands of hair lay wispy against her face. She tucked them behind her ear. Her every move sent tingles down his chest, gathering below his belt.
With her chin up and a cocked brow, she spoke directly to him. “Sorry, I’m fashionably late.” Her gritty voice gently throbbed in his head.
He watched her as she passed. The dress hugged her curves and flowed with the sway of her hips. How he desired to see what the thin white material covered. Another thrill ran through him. He cleared his throat and turned to the table. This seraph cleaned up well. Everyone’s eyes followed her. Maybe cleaned up too well.
Passing Otso on her way to the other end of the table, Leah couldn’t interpret the look in his eyes. It wasn’t anger, so she pushed it out of her mind. She sat and placed the white linen napkin across her lap and glanced up. Otso’s expressionless face stared at her from the far end of the table.
A flash of disappointment coursed through her. She’d hoped he liked how she looked, but he gave no indication he cared one way or another. She tilted her chin down, looked up at him, and shined the most innocent smile she could. He grimaced and looked at his plate.
If she were anywhere else, she’d be laughing so hard, she’d be crying. He wasn’t in control of her, and it irritated the hell out of him.
Leah picked out the onions in the meat sauce and ate quietly with everyone else. Discreetly, she eyed each man at the table. These were “his men.” The four at his end of the table resembled Paul Bunyan with big muscles and stout chests. The three Spanish men sitting closer to her looked like somebody she’d see on the sidewalk in California. For bounty hunters, they blended well. Where was Diego? Not that she cared…
If she and Ivan were going to get out of this alive, she’d have to pretend friendship with these men, play politely. Be non-threatening. Maybe even come on to Otso. She pinched her thigh. What a stupid, childish idea. But that’s not what her body said.
Her body wanted her to come on to him. It was actually trying to encourage the crazy thoughts running rampant in her brain about him, her, a bed, and lots of moaning and groaning. Damn. She needed to think of something else.
Maybe now was the perfect
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