The Bear's Hired Mate: A Paranormal Bear Shifter Romance

by Amy Star

  Twelve hours later, Vincent was finishing the outline of a major backpiece he was doing for a rocker who was only in town every other month or so, which happened to be perfect timing for the healing process for a large tattoo. They’d be finished in about six months. As he smoothed some soothing balm on the fresh wound, winding some plastic wrap and bandaging around the man’s torso, Vincent stood to walk the celebrity out of the shop. The two men shared a complex handshake/hug combo before wishing each other well. Vincent moved to re-lock up the shop when he turned to find Jane asleep on the black leather sofa.

  He walked over and dropped to his knees next to her sleeping form. Vincent’s eyes scanned her thick lashes on her cheek, which was bruised with the purple of lost sleep. Vincent’s eyebrows knit together. Jane’s worry over her living situation was apparent and not an easily solved problem. At least it wasn’t easily solved with the resources she thought she had at her disposal. For Vincent, tattooing was a meditative experience and following all of those thin black lines tonight had allowed him to see that he had to have Jane safe and close. Those were his two boundaries. He also had to admit that he had a solution. His only worry was getting Jane to take it and if she did...what the tattoo artists who were part of the clan would think of it. Already Xavier and Carrie were giving him side-eye in relation to how he acted around Jane. Vincent was pretty sure that Xavier was still a bit clueless, but a few days ago Carrie’s eyes had begun to shine with understanding. As one of the rare werebears who had survived the death of a mate, Carrie saw and understood far too much.

  Vincent saw no reason to wake Jane from what was obviously much-needed sleep. Gently, he lifted her up and cradled her in his arms. Moving to an elevator built into the back of his shop, Vincent placed one hand on a biometric touchscreen at the elevator’s doors. They would open only for Vincent, his brother Valente, and Xavier. It was yet another barrier to keep his father, Vincenzo out of his personal life.

  When Vincent stepped off the elevator he was on floor thirteen. For some reason, humans had issues with the odd number - especially in a town like Las Vegas. But the werebears were fearful of much more real threats than superstition of a number. The advantage to the general feeling of bad luck was that it offered an unusable floor clear for private use of the Mezzanotte clan. Valente held the western fourth of the floor, major real estate in Vegas, and Vincent was currently the only other occupant of the sprawling and empty halls. He held two adjoining suites that he’d been planning on combining into one for a decade now and had drug his feet for one reason or another; mostly because, as a single bear, he didn’t need the extra territory.

  Now, he was happy he’d left the suite and it’s privacy intact. It was the perfect place for Jane. An open space and he’d charge her rent she could afford. She’d be close to work and right where Vincent wanted her too. A “win-win” as Carrie would say. Vincent opened the empty suite and deposited Jane on the king-sized bed in the master bedroom, then, he settled into the relatively smaller queen size guest bed in the spare room of the suite. His sensitive were-hearing would wake him before his mate could leave her room. Vincent knew that as a human, Jane was bound to find the whole ordeal “creepy” but his bear instincts would not be told no. He would just have to wake up and convince her before she could freak out. Vincent placed two more calls before turning off his own light for the night. If he was in for a penny, he was going in for a pound.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Jane woke up feeling more rested than she had in months. It was as if that lumpy mattress in her cheap motel had turned into a cloud: a big, satin, feathery cloud. A cloud that came with the smell of freshly brewed coffee to wake her up…

  Jane shot up out of bed and sucked in a deep breath. She was definitely going to scream. She didn’t remember leaving Midnight Ink last night. She remembered being rejected by a number of Craigslist ads and rejecting some herself in turn. Jane had been on the brink of depression when she’d given in to the soft buzz of Vincent’s tattoo machine and the soft leather of the parlor’s couch. She had been taking advantage of Vincent’s late hours to clean the furniture before closing up for the night. After wiping down the couch, she’d given in and laid down on it and she must have drifted off to sleep. But that didn’t explain how she’d been kidnapped. Had she been drugged? Vincent was way too over protective to let that rocker drug her…

  Heavy footfalls announced her kidnapper and Jane looked up in time to see Vincent at the doorway. Well, speak of the devil, there was the big man himself. Jane didn’t think; she just attacked.

  “Excuse me, but how the hell did I get here?” Jane said as she stalked toward Vincent in all of her bedhead glory, eyes flashing. “Wait first, do you mind telling me where here is? This is so not cool.” Jane finished by crossing her arms over her ample chest. She watched as Vincent approached slowly. He was clad in an old pair of worn jeans and a white t-shirt. In the morning light, Jane thought he looked good enough to eat, but she had too much anger in her to allow that traitorous thought to overtake her well-deserved rage.

  “Jane, I’m sorry. You’re still in Mezzanotte.” Vincent approached Jane slowly, his hands empty and outstretched in the universal sign of ‘don’t attack’. He was hoping to pacify her before she lost complete control. “You’re in a private suite that I own. We’re currently on a floor of the hotel where my family resides.”

  “So what? You brought me here because it’s isolated? Did you hire me just to kill me? People will know if I’m missing!” Jane ranted, walking toe to toe with her kidnapper in exact opposition to what she was saying. If Jane believed what she said, she would have physically retreated. Vincent was relieved to see the reaction, anger he could deal with, fear was far, far harder to overcome.

  “No,” Vincent answered. “I brought you here because you have no place to live and you were so exhausted you fell asleep on the couch in the shop. You didn’t even stir when I picked you up.”

  “You picked me up?!” Now, in addition to being angry, Jane was utterly embarrassed that the man had hefted her weight.

  “How else was I to move you, Jane? You were unconscious; exhausted and unconscious. I didn’t have the heart to wake you up and send you to that damn hotel or whatever Craigslist killer you were planning on rooming with.” Jane tried to interject, but Vincent steamrolled her. “No. You had a good night’s sleep and now you’re going to have coffee and pancakes. It’s all sitting out in the kitchen. We’ll talk about your living arrangements in there.”

  Jane gave Vincent the stink eye and skewered him with the look for another moment or two before straightening her shoulders and pushing past him to the main living area. She looked like the queen she would some day become. Lord help him, Vincent thought as Jane and her intoxicating scent passed him by. He didn’t know how he was going to get out of this mess.

  The main living area of the suite was bigger than most of the luxury apartments in Sin City. One wall was made up entirely of glass, the morning sun filtering in across the strip and the desert beyond. The room itself was actually pretty standard for Mezzanotte. It was done up in crisp whites accented with black and the whole gamut of blues. The color palate was similar throughout the hotel, furthering the theme of midnight in its subtle tones.

  In front of the windows, there was a living room set in overstuffed white microfiber and a beautiful oriental rug in blue tones all arranged around a large flatscreen TV. On the opposite wall was an open kitchen, outfitted in some type of black stone with blue flecks shining throughout. Sitting on the ebony wood table was a platter of pancakes and sausage as well as the aforementioned coffee along with two bottles of water. Vincent entered the room behind her and gestured for her to take a seat at the table.

  Sitting down, she poured and doctored her coffee and Vincent’s without thinking. Vincent, for his part, placed food on both of their plates. Jane chose to ignore just how comfortable both of them had been with how that went down.

  After a few sips of coffee, Vin
cent judged that Jane might finally be ready to seriously discuss what he had to offer. He decided to open with the truth. “Jane, it bothered me yesterday when I found out that you are unable to find a living situation that fits your budget and is safe. I understand that a roommate is how most people go about fixing that, but you’re too new to know anyone to room with.” Jane put down her fork to defend her actions, but Vincent wanted to finish speaking first. “Now hear me out. You’re currently sitting in a secondary suite that I own. I live in the one next door. I would be willing to rent you this space until you find another option that is both safe and affordable. I knew last night when I brought you up here that you would be upset when you woke up. But, as I’ve said, I didn’t have the heart to wake you up. If anything, the fact that I could get you here undisturbed just shows me how badly you need a safe place to live.”

  Jane took a few bites of her pancakes. She didn’t know if he was worried because she was obviously easy to kidnap...or if he was referring to how exhausted she was from her situation. It was true; up until two weeks ago Jane had always lived with her mother. Now, within the span of a few days, she was in a new city learning to live life on her own. Jane was learning it wasn’t quite as easy as she’d thought. Glancing around, taking in the luxury and safety of the suite, it was hard to find a reason to refuse the generous offer.

  Swallowing Jane asked, “I would pay you rent, of course. A place like this has to be way outside my budget.”

  Vincent set his coffee mug down and decided to continue with honesty. “Actually, the hotel doesn’t do long term rentals of rooms. Besides clan members, no one is invited to live here. There’s never been a renter.”

  “So would you expect me to pay the nightly rate? Because I know for a fact that’s beyond my means and then some.”

  “Why don’t we say you pay the utilities.” Seeing that Jane was quickly chewing in an effort to counter the offer, Vincent added, “Jane, I own the place free and clear. I’m not looking to make money on it. Just cover your utilities while you’re living here and clean it before you move out. It won’t be any different to me than if it was still vacant.”

  Jane thought as she savored the good coffee. The caffeine was helping her brain process a little more quickly. No matter how odd the offer, it was one she shouldn’t - no - couldn’t refuse. She could use the time to save money and make connections. Hopefully, she’d be able to find a roommate soon and she could stop living on Vincent’s goodwill. But Jane wasn’t too proud to refuse the offer.

  “Alright, I accept your deal. Thank you, Vincent, you’ve saved the day.” Jane gave Vincent a teasing smile that had his stomach tightening in response. He had to forcibly keep himself in his seat so as to not launch himself across the table and kiss her silly.

  “You’re welcome, Jane. I like to do what I can for those I care about.” Vincent could have slapped himself. He saw Jane’s brow furrow in response to the word “care” and decided now was the perfect time for his final surprise. It would be distracting and was sure to rile her up a bit again. It was quite fun going above and beyond for Jane. She got so indignant before giving into the gift. “Jane, I want you in the office a bit early today.” This was a lie. “So I had the concierge deliver a few outfits for you to choose from. I’ll send one of the couriers over to your hotel room to gather your things. But you won’t have time to go back and change this morning. You’ll find the clothing in the closet in the master guestroom.

  Jane’s face was wary and Vincent could tell that she was no longer thinking of the emotional statement he’d let slip. He refilled his coffee cup and watched her ass swing as she moved back into the room and opened the closet.

  “Oh my goodness, Vincent. You have got to be kidding me?!” Jane yelled from the bedroom. Vincent only smiled to himself and wondered which outfit she would try on first.

  ***

  The next day, Jane stood tall in her new heels. They were an awesome pair of vintage turquoise blue pumps and they matched the little birds on the chiffon top she wore beautifully. Jane had grumbled, but she considered the outfits a bonus for a job well done the first two weeks.

  According to her new friend Carrie, Vincent had been struggling for quite some time to manage his schedule and Jane had to admit it was a tough thing to do. Between the ever-changing appointments and the last minute additions and cancellations to the tattoo parlor’s schedule, it seemed as though the moment she had a day nailed down, it changed again. Quite frankly, it was exhausting, but Vincent was so thankful that it gave her motivation to soldier forth.

  Jane checked her watch, thinking of Carrie, she realized it was almost time for their lunch. They were heading to a little sandwich shop in the casino. Well, the sandwich shop was actually created by some world famous chef, but they made an awesome ham and cheese with Gruyere and they were fast. All the better to maximize time for girl talk. Jane checked the bear email and her personal email one last time before checking out for a solid forty-five minutes. She would be turning everything off.

  Jane was just logging out of the email system when Carrie appeared from the tattooing part of the parlor. She was walking out a girl, easily a foot shorter than herself who had a bandage on her shoulder blade. Carrie was going over post-tattoo care by rote and gave Jane a wink over her shoulder as she escorted the girl from the shop.

  “That girl was a trooper for her first tat. It was a pretty good sized flower arrangement right on her shoulder. It’s going to turn out pretty. I hope she sends a pic once it’s healed.” Carrie chatted as she pulled out her own phone to check the email and messages that had accrued during the four-hour session. Jane slipped her own phone and iPad in a purse and let her gaze wander over the amazon woman that was Carrie.

  Jane was tall at five foot ten inches, but Carrie had her by a few, standing at just over six feet. She had long straight hair that was black as night and ended just above her butt. Streaked throughout the dark tresses were highlights in purple and pink. It was a trendy look that Carrie worked along with her combat boots and skinny black jeans. Her tops tended to be tanks with thin straps that showed off a fair amount of cleavage, as well as an assortment of flower and bird themed tats.

  When Carrie’s eyes finally left the screen of her phone they looked at Jane with the exact same caramel color as Vincent’s. In the beginning, Jane had thought that they must be siblings or at least related because of their shared eye color but they laughed it off only saying that they were distantly related, having come from the same clan, but that there was no blood relation for generations.

  Whatever that meant. Jane was getting more and more suspicious of this whole clan thing. It was weird: bear this, cub that, clan, clan, clan...and the occasional “Were.” The first time she’d heard the word slip in a meeting she’d joked about werewolves and the other assistants had gone silent and traded glances. Since then she didn’t draw attention when they slipped and used the word. But she had questions and she was planning on pinning Vincent down and asking him later. She’d accost him after his last tat of the day when he was tired and vulnerable. Right now, Jane was just looking forward to a good girl talk with Carrie.

  “Ready to go, babe?” Carrie called out holding the front door open. “Xavier’s holding down the fort while we masticate, right?”

  Jane quirked an eyebrow. “Masticate, huh? Somebody did well on their SATs.”

  “Girl, you know it. I’ve taken them a time or two, just waiting for my acceptance letter to Harvard. I hear the boys there are hot.”

  Jane rolled her eyes. “I don’t think that’s what Harvard is known for Carrie.”

  “Huh, really? Well then I guess I’ll just stay here and pray that I get at least one celebrity or male model a month to tattoo. Eye candy is a perk of the job.”

  That it was, Jane thought. She’d seen more famous people swing in and out of Midnight Ink in the last week than she thought she’d see in a lifetime. Midnight Ink had a very prestigious reputation, and they charged for it
to boot. Those tattoos were expensive! “Speaking of eye candy, did you go on that date with the guy who got the daisy tattoo? I believe he was ready to propose after his session.”

  Carrie laughed lightly as they turned into the sandwich shop. “Nah. I didn’t give him a call. It was fun flirting with him and all, but I don’t know that I could really take a man with a daisy tattoo seriously. I need to keep my street cred in check.”

  Jane watched as Carrie then proceeded to order the grilled peanut butter and jelly. Secretly, she thought it hit her ‘cred’ a little hard but she chose not to comment. The sandwiches really were to die for. After ordering her usual ham and very expensive French cheese sandwich, the girls sipped on colas and Jane got a little curious. “Carrie, when was the last time you dated a guy? I mean, if you don’t mind me asking. It’s just that in the last two weeks I’ve seen you reject at least three dates and two proposals of marriage.”

  “And you think because I don’t take my deliriously happy clients seriously I’m on a man strike?”

  “I don’t know.” Jane shrugged. “I guess it’s just a feeling I get. I suppose I’m wrong?”