Lure of the Bear (Aloha Shifters: Jewels of the Heart Book 3)

by Anna Lowe

  Hunter winced at the thought of exploding flashes and shouted questions. A damn good thing he wasn’t a celebrity.

  “There’s also the possibility of sabotage,” the security chief went on. “The Vanderpelt oil business has created its share of enemies.”

  Hunter wrinkled his nose, wondering if the Vanderpelts had a hand in the Alaskan pipeline that had forced him from home. His mother had steadfastly refused to give in to pressure to sell, and one day, a gang had torched his home. She’d died defending it — and defending Hunter, who’d been too young to fight. He closed his eyes and clenched his fists, reminding himself it was all so long ago.

  “What about the diamond?” Dawn asked.

  Hunter’s eyes snapped open. Dawn knew about the diamond?

  When she caught his surprised look, she rolled her eyes, and he cursed himself. Of course, Dawn knew. The diamond had been in the news, and the police would have been informed, too.

  “We will be briefing everyone about delivery arrangements when the time comes,” Ken Thomas said.

  “This wedding is already putting a strain on police resources. Refusing to inform us of the delivery date makes it difficult to provide the level of protection required,” she said, staring down the head of security, a man twice her size.

  “We will be briefing everyone at the appropriate time,” he repeated in a monotone.

  Dawn ground her teeth, and Hunter did his best to glare at the man without bristling too obviously. Dawn could hold her own, and he had to respect that. But shit, it was hard when all he wanted to do was stalk over to the bastard and shake him until his silver fillings came loose.

  A phone rang, giving the asshole an easy out. He snapped his fingers. “To work, everybody.”

  Hunter filed out the door with everyone else, jostling shoulders with Cruz until they parted ways on the porch. Cruz veered off to the left to check the perimeter of the huge property — a task that suited the reclusive tiger perfectly. Hunter, meanwhile, covered the main grounds.

  “What do you think?” Dawn asked, looking over the beehive of activity on the lawn.

  His bear sighed. I think I can’t live without you.

  He forced his mind into work mode and waved at the truck grinding down the delivery road. “It’s damn near impossible to check every supplier in an event of this size. There are too many cracks to guarantee no one slips through.”

  She nodded. “And too little information. Too little planning ahead. I don’t like it one bit. Like the diamond ring. The secrecy around it is ridiculous. I have to wonder how the woman is ever going to wear the thing if it’s so damn valuable.”

  Hunter frowned. If only Dawn knew how valuable that diamond might be. More valuable than any human might suspect. And, shit. Wasn’t that important information for the police liaison to have? He scuffed the ground. God, did he feel low and dirty, keeping secrets from Dawn.

  He was about to murmur some response when the breeze carried a new scent to him, and his head snapped to the right. The scent of shifter — a shifter he didn’t know.

  He sniffed deeply then caught himself. If Dawn caught him acting like a wild animal, she’d flip.

  “Sorry, I have to check on the construction crew over there,” he said, turning away so she couldn’t see his nostrils flaring on the wind.

  “I have to oversee the main entrance,” she sighed.

  When she stepped away, Hunter felt pulled in two directions. His heart wanted to follow Dawn, but his nose ordered him to explore that unknown scent. So he forced himself away from her and set off, following his nose.

  That was a shifter, for sure, and it was nearby. A canine of some kind, but not a wolf. A fox? He stared at one face after another as caterers, construction workers, and florists hustled around, all intent on their work. Then he followed his keen nose to the raised platform where a crew was setting up speakers and wires for a band. He ticked one human after another off his mental list until his eyes narrowed on a stooped man who cracked a joke and cackled loudly. That was him — the shifter. The intruder. Hunter’s claws pressed against his fingernails, eager to burst out.

  The man froze and turned slowly then locked eyes with Hunter. His mouth tightened, and his eyes hit the ground in a sign of submission. A moment later, he faked a casual smile. “Heya.”

  Heya, my ass, Hunter wanted to say. He jerked his head to the side, ordering the shifter to step toward the trees where they would be out of earshot of the humans. Hunter followed, cracking his knuckles, trying to place the scent. Stooped shoulders. Cackling laugh. A strangely elongated neck. What the hell kind of shifter was that?

  It hit him a moment later. Hyena. What the hell was a hyena doing on Maui?

  He resisted the urge to throw the smaller man against a tree trunk, crossing his arms instead. “Show me your ID. Now.”

  The man grinned and held out a photo ID that said Rupert Hayes. “Hey, man. Don’t get all worked up.”

  Hunter glowered. Maui was his turf. He’d get worked up if he wanted, especially with a wheedling hyena like this.

  “What are you doing here?”

  “I’m with the band, man. Just trying to earn an honest living, like you.” The word honest slid off his tongue far too smoothly.

  Hunter sniffed for the telltale hint of a lie, but the hyena was good at masking his emotions.

  “Listen,” the hyena said. “I swear, I’m not here to make trouble. You can check me out with the company.”

  Hunter fully intended to, but he still wasn’t satisfied. On the other hand, he couldn’t exactly toss a man off the premises with no firm grounds.

  “I will,” he growled. “And I’ll be watching you.”

  The man shrank back when Hunter squared his shoulders. Then he rattled out another cackling laugh and sidestepped, making his way back to work. “It’s always good to be vigilant, but believe me, I’m just here to work. And then I’ll be on my way to the next job, and the next. You know how it goes.” He scurried away.

  Hunter growled, watching the man go until a shrill voice made him wince.

  “That’s all wrong!” Regina cried.

  Hunter turned to see the bride gesturing at the ice sculpture. The gesture nearly launched the pink straw and tiny umbrella out of her coconut shell cocktail glass.

  “You want a what?” The sculptor blanched.

  Hunter ignored them, turning back to the hyena. But the crafty creature had already slipped out of sight. Hunter scanned the foliage, then the crowd.

  “You heard me.” Regina stamped her foot at the sculptor, and Hunter swore the ground shook a little bit. “I want a swan. To match the cake. Wait — did we get the cake fixed?” She turned to Veronica.

  Hunter caught a glimpse of the hyena shifter disappearing into an equipment truck. Whoever that shifter was, Hunter would keep his eye on the beast.

  “The last change to the cake was back to bride and groom figures,” Veronica said as Hunter edged by.

  Regina turned red. “No! Not a bride and groom. I want a swan! And the ice sculpture has to match.”

  Veronica tapped into her device. “No problem.”

  The sculptor’s look said, Big problem, but he kept his lips sealed.

  Luckily, that wasn’t an issue Hunter had to resolve. And anyway, he had enough on his hands. He sighed and counted the mounting issues. A diamond that might or might not be a Spirit Stone. A woman he couldn’t get his mind off. An unknown shifter who might or might not be plotting something.

  And if so, what?

  Hunter shook his head. Wherever this Rupert guy came from, he was a complication Hunter really didn’t need.

  Chapter Eight

  Dawn stood high on a rocky point over the resort, sweeping it with her eyes. Looking for danger, it might seem like, when in reality she was looking for Hunter.

  It was their third day on the job and their third day of tangoing gingerly around each other. No matter how hard she tried to focus on work and pretend Hunter was just anoth
er man, she couldn’t convince herself of the lie. The bear shifter part almost stopped feeling significant, because the man was so damn…sweet. He always seemed to amble along and pass her a bottle of water when the sun was at its highest — and then he’d quietly back away. He would turn up out of nowhere when one of the bride’s entourage was at their pissiest to announce that Dawn was needed — immediately! — somewhere else. Ken Thomas, the head of Armor Security, was a little awed by Hunter, and every time he paused to ask Hunter’s opinion, Hunter would clear his throat and turn the question over to Dawn with a respectful, “Officer Meli, what do you think?” Then he’d tilt his head to listen — really listen — and the others did, too.

  He had a knack for heading the same way as she at exactly the same time, when he would adjust his pace and merge paths with her with a quiet, undemanding “Hi.”

  One syllable. Two letters. But they sent a hot rush through her body every time.

  How a man that big could come off as so sweet, she had no idea. But he was. Sweet — and sexy as hell. The way he ran his fingers through his hair made her fantasize about those fingers parting her hair, and when he walked beside her, she had the overwhelming urge to brush up against his shoulder, just to feel his heat. The way he rubbed his neatly trimmed beard made her imagine him touching her skin with the same slow, ponderous strokes. Her fantasies grew more and more detailed until she imagined him inching closer and kissing her bare skin on a moonlit night.

  She puffed a breath of air upward over her face, trying to cool off.

  It was as if Hunter had found a mesmerizing new cologne and doubled the dose every day, because she couldn’t stop daydreaming about him — make that, dreaming about him and her naked and indulging in reckless fantasies in a dozen hidden corners of the resort.

  At the same time, Hunter kept his distance, taking such care not to crowd her that she almost wished he would, just to give her something to resent.

  Without love, you don’t live. Lily’s words kept echoing through her mind, making it impossible to focus on the job.

  So she’d come up to the rocky outcrop in an attempt to clear her head. Surf pounded the shoreline below, making the water churn the way her emotions roiled inside her.

  Get your shit together, Officer Meli, she ordered herself. All you did was kiss him.

  But it was more than a kiss, and she knew it. It was the step over an invisible threshold her soul had dreamed of for years. Years of pain, loneliness, and denial of desire.

  You’re not afraid of him. You’re afraid of falling in love. Lily’s words whispered through her mind.

  She tried blaming her tension on the fact that the whole resort was on pins and needles now that the wedding was less than twenty-four hours away. But even when she went home in the evenings, the ache went with her. Her body screamed for relief — so long and hard, she’d taken to touching herself at night and imagining it was him.

  Whether it was black magic or Hunter’s raw masculinity that got her so riled up, she didn’t care any more. All she wanted was relief.

  “Up there,” someone called.

  Dawn whipped her head around and cursed at the sight of three figures marching up the hill. Regina Vanderpelt led the charge, wearing movie star sunglasses that covered more skin than her bikini did. Veronica and a hand-wringing resort employee tagged along in her wake.

  “I’m sorry, Miss Vanderpelt, but it really isn’t possible—”

  Regina ignored the man completely. “I want the wedding up here.”

  “You see that sign?” The man pointed, but the bride looked in the other direction.

  “I said, I want my wedding here.”

  Dawn peeked at the sign that said, Proceed at your own risk. Do not approach cliff. Rocks may be unstable.

  “The lawn is much better,” Veronica tried.

  “I don’t want a fucking lawn wedding. I came to Hawaii for a beach wedding,” Regina snapped.

  “I’m afraid that won’t be possible,” the man said. “That freak storm may be a thousand miles offshore, but the swell is increasing every hour.”

  Dawn peered at the surf pounding into the rocks below, unperturbed by the vertical drop. If she were an owl, it would be the perfect place to roost. Well — fifty years ago, it would have been. Now that resorts had taken over most of the coast, the native birds had all moved to quieter nesting grounds.

  Regina made a face. “I don’t care. I want the wedding moved up here. It’s the same view. An even better view. And I want it.”

  “You can fit a lot more guests on the lawn,” the man said.

  Regina made a face. “I’ll just un-invite a few.”

  Veronica checked her tablet. “You’re already down to three hundred. And that’s not counting the guests your parents invited.”

  Regina sniffed. “Crotchety old businessmen. They’d rather spend the day golfing anyway. Besides, I’ll look really good in my white dress with the ocean behind me. If that idiot photographer gets the angle right, that is.”

  Dawn edged downslope, away from Regina’s cloud of negative snobbery.

  Veronica clucked quietly. “What a tragedy it would be if the rock gave way, taking you and Ricky with it.” Her voice had a wistful quality to it.

  “You can always bring the groom up here for a photo before the wedding,” the man suggested.

  Dawn wondered if the groom would sober up enough to manage the uphill climb. Ricky Zappello, the boy-band rock star, had arrived at the resort the day before, more than a little glassy-eyed.

  “I don’t want a picture. I want the wedding up here,” Regina insisted, stamping her foot.

  “Whoa—” the man muttered as the ground underfoot shook.

  Dawn threw her hands out for balance. Veronica yelped and covered her head as if the sky threatened to fall on her head instead of the cliff giving way under her feet.

  “Nobody move,” Dawn shouted, praying that, for once, Regina would listen. Because, wow. Either the outcrop really was unstable, or Regina was a lot more powerful than she looked.

  Regina’s face turned white, but when the shaking stopped, she went back to her usual scowl.

  “Hmpf.” She turned up her nose and stomped down the hill. “I didn’t want my wedding up here anyway.”

  And off she went on her next battle charge, the amethyst in her engagement ring flashing in the sun. Dawn wondered which unlucky soul would be the butt of Regina’s scorn next.

  “Come along, Veronica,” Regina snipped in the tone she might use with a pet poodle.

  Veronica followed, as did the man, who shot Dawn a wide-eyed look.

  “I swear she’ll give me a heart attack one of these days. The sooner this wedding is over, the better,” he muttered.

  Somehow, the notion didn’t sit well with Dawn. When the wedding was over, her special assignment would be over, too, and then she’d be back to fleeting glances of Hunter on the highway instead of hours spent together on the same job.

  She checked her watch as she walked down the hill. Only ten minutes to catch a bite to eat in the tent set up for staff near the wedding site. She snagged one of the last sandwiches off a tray and stepped aside to eat it, wondering if Hunter had taken his break yet.

  Employees and security personnel rotated through the tent, murmuring as they flopped down in plastic chairs.

  “Another day of this and I’ll be so done,” someone sighed.

  “How much you want to bet that this million-dollar wedding ends in divorce five months down the line?” A man laughed.

  “More like five weeks,” someone else quipped, and everyone laughed.

  “Remind me never to get married like this,” a woman said.

  “Like you’d have the money to.”

  “Even if I did, it wouldn’t be like this.”

  “How would you get married?” someone asked, eliciting a flood of ideas — everything from sandbars at low tide to castles in Scotland or even Disneyland.

  Right here on Maui, Dawn
couldn’t help thinking. A quiet little ceremony, with just a few friends. The ones who really count.

  She closed her eyes, imagining a grassy lawn shaded by palm trees. A pure blue sky. Brown eyes gazing into hers, promising to love her forever.

  The flaps at the far side of the tent slapped open, and Hunter and Cruz stalked in. Everyone stopped and stared for a moment. Something about their powerful aura did that every time. Hunter frowned and Cruz scowled, making everyone drop their gazes as if guilty of some crime.

  Dawn, though, kept her eyes on Hunter, whose eyes swept over the area and came to rest on hers. Brown eyes just as soft and devoted as the ones in her daydream. His chest rose with a deep, slow breath, and Dawn stared while the conversation around her picked up again.

  “I don’t think young people know what love is these days,” an older woman sighed.

  Dawn’s pulse skipped. Funny, she had the feeling she did.

  “Maybe we should give them the benefit of the doubt.”

  Dawn bit her lip. Did that apply to a man who could shift into a bear?

  “Maybe Regina really meant it about that sex video scandal — that she was just playing around. Maybe she’s finally found true love.”

  An older woman scoffed. “True love is patience. Persistence. Self-sacrifice.”

  Dawn worked a bite of sandwich down with a dry gulp, studying Hunter.

  “True love is when just being close to the person is enough.”

  Dawn’s eyes locked on Hunter’s, and time stood still.

  “Love is about the little things, not grand gestures,” the woman added.

  Dawn’s hands trembled, and her cheeks warmed. Love should be a vague, undefinable thing, and yet it seemed entirely tangible just then. Love was joy and peace and, yes, a little bit of fear balanced with a great reward.

  The older woman sighed, and Dawn did, too.

  Then someone snapped their fingers and said, “I need two volunteers. Right now.”