Beloved by the Bear: A Shifters in Love Fun & Flirty Romance (Mystic Bay Book 3)

by Isadora Montrose

  Mrs. Grant breathed the price and stood tight-lipped awaiting their verdict.

  Serena was shocked. But Anton chuckled. “I can afford it,” he murmured softly. “The only question is, do you like it enough to wear it for the rest of your life?”

  Mrs. Grant blinked and looked even more skeptical.

  Serena took a deep breath. The ring felt right on her hand. But the price was the down payment on a house. And he had already bought that painting! Two down payments. “I do like it. Are you sure, Anton? I can be happy with something much less expensive.”

  “Nope. This is the one. Now, what do we have to do, Mrs. Grant, so that my fiancée can walk out of here with that ring on her finger?”

  The ring had to be polished. And paid for. Anton set a credit card on the counter. “We have a plane to catch. Can you put a rush on it?”

  Mrs. Grant took the credit card into her manager’s office. Serena tried to persuade Anton that he should save his money to buy a house.

  “I have a house,” he said simply. “Pretty much paid off too. What I need is a wife.” He grinned down at her. “And now that I’ve found one, she needs a ring.”

  “It occurs to me that you never actually asked me to marry you,” Serena responded.

  “Didn’t I?” he sounded baffled, but he dropped to one knee. “Serena,” he declared right where any passerby could hear. “You are the love of my life. The only woman for me. Will you make me the happiest man alive and marry me?”

  “Yes,” she said loud and clearly. If Dad agrees, she mentally reserved. She stroked Anton’s curls. “But we have to get my family on board first,” she whispered.

  Mrs. Grant cleared her throat. “The transaction has gone through.” She sounded astonished and elated. She held out Anton’s credit card.

  “And the ring?” Anton got gracefully to his feet still holding Serena’s hand.

  “Give our jeweler ten minutes to polish it. What about engraving?” the saleswoman asked.

  Anton’s hand tightened. “We’ll get that done when we buy our wedding bands.”

  CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

  Anton~

  “Do we have a plane to catch?” she asked in the rental car.

  “Maybe.” He did up his seatbelt. “Depends.” On cue his cell rang. So much for hoping he and Serena could find a room in Portland and do what came naturally.

  “I’ve found your missing prince,” Holden bragged.

  “Where?”

  “Monterey.”

  “I thought that the Davenport Gallery was in LA?”

  He could hear the shrug in Holden’s voice. “If you want to remain anonymous, LA is a much better bet than Monterey or Carmel. Merryman lives in Monterey. Works at the Monterey Bay Aquarium. You want the address or not?”

  He scribbled it down. Holden had phone numbers and other details. And some suggestions. “Thanks. I think this is enough.”

  “Yup. Good hunting, buddy.” His boss hung up.

  Serena was angling her ring in the sunshine pouring through the windshield, admiring the colors. It was magnificent. A perfect complement to his beautiful mate.

  “Well?” she asked.

  “We’re going to Monterey Bay. Have you ever been to the aquarium?”

  “Nope. Although I understand it’s fantastic. What about Carlyle?”

  “Holden has located someone called Carl Merryman. We’re going to check him out. Don’t get your hopes up too high, sweetheart. It’s never a done deal until you make the identification.”

  She swallowed hard. “What do we do with the painting?”

  “We pay the big bucks to the airline to store it.”

  It cost even more than he had figured. But by agreeing to an x-ray, they skipped unwrapping and rewrapping the canvas. He was even able to check it through to their Sunday flight back to Friday Harbor.

  He just hoped this Carl Merryman was the crown prince and not some clown with the same surname.

  CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

  Monterey Bay

  Serena~

  It was a little anti-climactic when Anton booked them into a hotel and told them that they were going to play tourist for the rest of the evening. It was a lovely boutique hotel, small and intimate, but she was stoked to see Carlyle. Or Carl. Or whoever was calling himself that.

  “You’re burning through money,” she objected.

  “Think of this as our honeymoon,” he suggested. “Don’t you like this room?”

  What wasn’t to like? There were countries that were smaller than this room. The bed was a welter of smoky-blue silk sheets, goose-down pillows, and sumptuous covers. The bathroom boasted a walk-in shower and an air-jet tub.

  “I thought we’d go looking for Carlyle tonight.”

  Anton shook his head. “We’re going to approach him at work. Tomorrow.”

  “Oh.” She could hear the disappointment in that syllable. She sounded like a whiny child. “But will he be working on a Sunday?”

  “So Holden said.” Anton gave her a hug. “Relax. We’re going to have a nice dinner. Go for a walk. Watch the sun go down. Try out that bed. Not necessarily in that order.”

  “Surely catching Carlyle at home would be easier?”

  “Yup. But suppose his family doesn’t know about the mer thing? He won’t thank us for outing him. Remember, finding him is just the start. We want to persuade him to come home again.” His arms tightened. “Trust me.”

  “I feel like a kid shown her birthday presents and told to wait until tomorrow when Grandma comes.”

  Anton rubbed her back. “Waiting is hard. I guess you’re not in the mood. Want to walk the crazies off or eat?”

  “Walk.” She felt too restless to sit.

  The streets of Monterey Bay were just as crowded as the ones back home. The shops as full of souvenirs too. But it was still fun to walk beside Anton and explore. They dodged old-fashioned cast-iron street lamps and pedestrians and made their way to the harbor.

  The smell of the sea relaxed her. “I needed this,” she whispered.

  “I know. I think the reason West Haven is perfect for us is that it combines sea and forest. I love the fact that there are big mossy forests everywhere.”

  “I thought you didn’t like the Old Forest?”

  “Liking or disliking the Old Forest seems presumptuous,” he said seriously. “I felt uneasy and unwelcome there, as if the trees were judging me and finding me wanting. But not because it lacks beauty.”

  “They probably were sitting in judgment,” she explained. “The Old Ones pretty much control what happens there. Humans are intruders. And heaven help anyone who takes an ax to the trees!”

  “I guessed as much.”

  * * *

  Monterey Bay Aquarium

  Serena~

  The aquarium was housed in the abandoned sardine cannery. She and Anton paid their admission and joined the throng looking at the exhibits. Anton let her watch the antics of the sea otters, before guiding her to the jellies.

  A huge backlit tank with a blue rear wall was home to hordes of pulsating brown jellies streaming through the water. Their long frilly pink tendrils floated above them as they rose and fell in the column. Serena could have watched the mesmerizing animals forever.

  Anton had a different idea. He took her elbow. “This way,” he murmured pushing on a door labeled NO ADMISSION.

  It clunked gently behind them leaving them in a narrow corridor. “Did we just blow past that sign?” she hissed.

  Anton smiled indulgently. “Remember: It’s better to ask for forgiveness than permission.” He led them past a series of numbered doors.

  Where were they going? The hallway had cameras in every corner. Her stomach clenched. They were going to get caught and tossed out on their ears. Put in jail.

  Anton hand tightened on hers. “Relax,” he whispered. “The aquarium doesn’t have the money to monitor those cameras twenty-four seven. Just if they have an issue. See any security back here?”

 
She didn’t.

  Anton knocked briskly on a door and opened it without waiting for an answer. They were in a tiny cell. A flat-screen monitor displayed an underwater paradise, illuminating a seated man peering into an electron microscope. He looked up unsmiling.

  “This area is off limits to visitors.” His words stumbled to a halt.

  He left his microscope and approached them. Serena was lifted off her feet by the strong arms of her big brother. He rocked her against his chest.

  They spoke together. Words and explanations tumbling over each other. She could barely take in the reality of walking into Carlyle’s miniscule office. Anton leaned on the closed door, arms folded, face bland.

  Carlyle gave her a last squeeze and set her down. “Little bit, you’re all grown up!”

  She had forgotten that her family used to call her that. Tears filmed her eyes. She sniffed.

  “This your husband?” Carlyle held out a hand.

  “Anton Benoit.” He stepped back to the door and resumed blocking it.

  “Anton is my fiancé.”

  “Dad is okay with you marrying a bear?” Disapproval flashed in Carlyle’s face and was gone. Like father, like son.

  “Not exactly. That’s why we’re here.”

  They sat around a table in the employee cafeteria drinking coffee and trying to persuade Carlyle to return to West Haven. He was having none of it. He had lost the scrawniness he had had at twenty. Filled out into a man.

  His dark brown hair had the peculiar deadness of home-dyed hair. But nothing could hide those brilliant green eyes so like her father’s. But he didn’t just look like Dad, he was every bit as obstinate.

  “I’ve been banished,” he said for about the twentieth time. “Going home isn’t an option. Even talking to you, sis, is disobeying the king’s edict. Whatever Dad thinks, I’m a loyal subject.”

  Serena redoubled her efforts. “Dad was sorry almost as soon as he had spoken. He’s looked for you over and over. He needs you. We all do.”

  “Come for Christmas,” Anton suggested easily. “Bring your wife and kids. I’ll bet all will be forgiven. Your mom will be in seventh heaven to meet her grandchildren.”

  “I’m giving a talk on comb jellies in ten minutes.” Carlyle stood up. “I’d tell you to come listen, but unless you already bought tickets, it’s sold out.”

  Serena’s heart sank. They had failed. “Don’t I even get to meet my nephews?” she begged.

  Her brother’s face grew sterner. He really looked as inflexible as Dad. “It’s bad enough I’m sitting talking to you. Introducing you to Althea and the boys would turn disobedience into treason.”

  She tried to muster arguments to sway him. Anton raised his brows at her and shook his head.

  Carlyle continued. “But I do have something for the old man. And as luck would have it, it’s in my office.”

  * * *

  West Haven

  Serena~

  Even though they had failed, it had been a wonderful weekend. She and Anton had worked as a team to locate her brother. They had found the painting. Bought a ring. Enjoyed a magical interlude. Even if things hadn’t turned out precisely as she had hoped, their bond had been strengthened.

  She glanced down at the pearl and diamond ring on her left hand. Somehow this perfect ring made their forbidden love seem destined. Her father’s consent assured.

  The ferry’s engines stopped and went into reverse as it docked at the Mystic Bay pier. Now that they were home, their troubles descended onto Serena’s shoulders once more. Her beautiful ring suddenly weighed down her hand. She swallowed hard. Dad was going to hit the roof.

  Anton must have noticed her tension returning. He patted her hand and covered the ring. “It will be okay,” he assured her. “Don’t forget, we got that present for your folks.”

  She swallowed hard. “I’m not sure it will be enough.”

  Anton laughed and started the pickup. “Let’s go find out if we’re dead meat.”

  They inched forward. As they lined up to drive off the ferry, Serena could see the mer-king standing on the pier, arms on his hips, legs braced, his blue-black head crowned with fury.

  CHAPTER FORTY-THREE

  Anton~

  He hadn’t expected Serena’s father not to notice that he and Serena had slipped away for the weekend. But he wasn’t prepared to be met at the ferry by the wrathful mer-king. Pity old Roger had no shotgun with him. Anton wouldn’t have minded being forced to tie the knot at once.

  Although his own folks might have something to say if they were deprived of all the fun of engagement dances and a fancy wedding. The Benoits knew how to celebrate a marriage.

  Once he took his fiancée home to French Town, he and Serena could expect a round of boisterous parties in their honor. The actual wedding might have to be in the bride’s hometown, but he knew his family, and a little thing like that wouldn’t stop them from lighting the bonfires, and polishing the dance floor.

  Roger glared through Anton’s windshield. Anton squared his shoulders. He and Serena had done nothing wrong. And they had had a productive weekend. They had bought themselves an engagement ring. Located the owner of Carlyle’s painting and persuaded him to part with it. Traced the crown prince. Visited the famous aquarium. Oh, and Serena had formally agreed to marry him. Not too bad for a couple days’ work.

  The pickup inched forward. The deckhand signaled. Anton drove off the ferry. King Roger stepped directly in front of the truck. Anton stepped on his brakes to the sound of squealing brakes from the vehicles behind his. Horns blared angrily.

  He lowered his window. “Let me park this thing, sir, where I’m not holding up traffic.”

  King Roger scowled even more fiercely. But he stepped aside. Beside Anton, Serena was rigid with anxiety. “I told you so,” she said.

  “Breathe,” he ordered.

  “I may hyperventilate.”

  “Nah. You’re cool in a crisis.” He pulled into the marina parking lot and turned off his engine.

  Serena’s door was yanked open. “Where have you been? What did you two do?” bellowed Roger.

  “We went to the Monterey Bay Aquarium.” Serena got out and stretched. “How was your weekend, Dad?”

  “Without a word to your mother or me?” Roger shouted. He grabbed Serena’s left hand. “What is this?”

  Anton cleared his throat. “Engagement ring, sir. Serena has done me the honor to wear my ring.” He stood as tall as he could. “Of course it may be a long engagement.”

  “You went all the way to Monterey on a whim?” the mer-king cried. “Of all the foolish, spendthrift idiocy.”

  “Money is only for spending,” said Anton. He took Serena’s hand from Roger’s and kissed it. His little mate was vibrating with distress. All this shouting couldn’t be good for the cubs in her belly. If there were cubs. “I thought Serena deserved a bit of a treat.”

  “A treat!” Roger’s face contorted. His eyes narrowed. “But you didn’t get married?”

  “I did promise, sire,” Serena sounded hurt. Anton gave her hand a little squeeze.

  “So did I, sir,” he said calmly. “Now, with all respect, we’ve had a long day. Why don’t you let me take Serena home, so we can talk where we’re not providing entertainment for all of Mystic Bay.”

  Roger’s whole body swelled. He growled deep in his throat. Anton checked for his trident. Ever since Serena had confided that mer-people could channel electricity through their weapons, he had been curious to see one in action. Only not stuck in his hide.

  “Your mother is there,” Roger admitted.

  “Then who’s at the restaurant?” asked Serena.

  “Justine.” The implication was that Roger had left the Crab Hut unsupervised.

  That put a little starch in his mate’s spine. “It’s the off season,” Serena pointed out. “Justine will manage just fine. We’ll meet you at my house.” She got back into the truck. “I told you he would be furious.”

  Anton
backed up. “So you did. And I told you it was better to ask for forgiveness than permission.”

  “He actually thought we had eloped,” she spat.

  “Hmm. Now don’t get your dander up,” he advised. “As far as your dad is concerned that’s a worst-case scenario. And we do have some good news for him.”

  Serena relaxed a little. After a moment she chuckled and rubbed her thumb over her ring. “So we do. And a present.”

  The trip to her cottage took no time at all. There wasn’t much traffic on West Haven most of the time. On a Sunday afternoon in December, there were even fewer vehicles on the road. King Roger’s SUV stayed on Anton’s bumper all the way there, as if he feared Anton would disappear between downtown and Serena’s driveway.

  Mrs. Merryman was standing clutching the porch railing. Her face was drawn and worried. Hadn’t Roger bothered to tell her that he and Serena weren’t married? Or maybe that was what had Serena’s mom in lather.

  “Stay put,” Anton ordered. He didn’t want Serena jumping down by herself.

  Serena raised her eyebrows but she kept her seat. He retrieved the large, flat package from the truck bed before opening her door and helping her down.

  She reached behind her for her purse. “Hi, Mom.”

  Pearl Merryman did a good impression of a flying tackle. Anton could have sworn her feet didn’t touch the porch steps. “Where have you been?” she asked from around Serena’s neck.

  “We went to Monterey.”

  “Monterey, California?” Pearl might have been asking if they had spent the weekend in Sodom or Gomorrah.

  Roger’s car door slammed. “You know of another Monterey?”

  “There’s one in Canada, sir. And one in Mexico.” Anton tried and failed to keep the amusement out of his voice.

  “Hmph. What have you got there?” Roger demanded. His hair bristled and curls stood out like horns over his head. He was doing a good impression of a wrathful sea god.

  Despite himself, Anton felt a tremor of doubt. “Let’s go inside,” he suggested. “Do you want to do the honors?” he asked Serena.

  The painting was swathed in so many layers of brown paper and bubble wrap that they needed a knife. Anton’s was still inside his glove compartment where he had stashed it before they started flying. Roger looked smug as he handed his folding knife to Serena. She slit the tape and began the laborious process of unveiling their treasure.