Nathan: Billionaire Bear (Shifters of Denver Book 1)

by Candace Ayers

  “Whatever. Bri, can we please get going, I think I twisted my ankle,” I pleaded. It was beginning to throb, and the hike was going to be ruined tomorrow if I didn’t prop it and get some ice on it soon.

  “Let me take a look,” the ranger replied, and started to approach me before I could protest.

  “Is it bad?” Brianna finally re-focused and looked over.

  “Really, it’s fine,” I tried to shrug off the pain, “We should just get back.”

  The ranger ignored me completely and bent down to look at my ankle. I felt his hands touch my leg, his fingers warm and firm as they felt around the bone. I winced when he touched a sore spot. He didn’t say anything, but softly palmed my calf as if in an apologetic gesture.

  “It’s a bit swollen, try not to walk on it tonight, and put some ice on it. If you don’t have ice, dip a towel in water and wrap it around the ankle, okay?”

  I nodded before realizing that he couldn’t see me, “Yes… okay.”

  Suddenly I wasn’t feeling that chatty. At this close range I noticed just how broad and muscular the man was. His t-shirt strained over his thick shoulders giving me an ample view of the bulging bicep muscles and the toned definition of his forearms. He wore his hair slightly long, pushed back behind both ears. As he inspected my ankle, tendrils dropped in front of his face and for a split-second I felt a strong urge to push them back off his forehead.

  “Are we done?” I said instead, my tone weirdly brisk and hoarse.

  “We’re done,” he replied and straightened up. He towered over me. I’m average height, but in his presence I felt miniscule.

  “Thanks,” I breathed, “We’ll go now.”

  He nodded at me slowly, but I didn’t move and neither did he. I looked up and our eyes met. His face was still cast in shadow, but his eyes where hypnotic. They seemed to gleam in the darkness. His irises were an unusual midnight blue, but the tones within appeared as if they were moving and shifting, sparking like electricity. The overall impression was like looking into the midst of an electrical storm.

  I looked away. My heart hammered irregularly in my chest.

  “Are you ready?” Brianna called, having picked up the flashlight where I must have dropped it on the ground.

  “Yep,” I gulped, “Thanks, see you around.” I muttered to the ranger’s chest, unable to look up again.

  “Yeah, see you. I hope he’s okay,” Brianna replied, looking back longingly at the bear. The ranger waved us off.

  I felt his eyes on us, following as we walked back toward the camp, and the feeling didn’t go away until we re-entered the clearing.

  It was only then that I could actually breathe again.

  4

  That night, Brianna and I had returned to camp, practically falling over ourselves to tell the tale of our bear adventure. We mentioned the ranger briefly. Brianna hardly seemed to have noticed him. It appeared that I was the only one who he’d made a lasting impression on. Later, curled up in my sleeping bag, I’d listened for his truck, but heard nothing.

  The next morning, our adventures were old news after Janine almost gotten bitten by a snake, and Laker found a scorpion curled up inside his boot.

  Jason and Brianna hadn’t really spoken on the hike, and as we made the final descent, I had to give up on my matchmaking skills. No matter how many subtle ways Jason tried to vie for her attention, Bri just didn’t seem to notice. In fact, she was more preoccupied with wondering how her bear was faring in his recovery.

  Now we were making our way back home on route thirty-six, sun-kissed and drowsy. Brianna sat next to me in the back of Tim’s car, her head slumped on my shoulder as she snored softly in sleep.

  “Gas station!” I called out as we passed a sign, “I really need some water.”

  “I need a smoke,” Tim agreed, and pulled over. I saw Jason’s car do the same behind us.

  The station was run down, built from cinderblock and corrugated tin. It looked like more of a shack than a gas station, which made the McLaren P1 sports car parked out front all the more obvious. I only recognized the make because a few years ago they’d been a client of the PR firm where I worked. Those machines where upward of eight hundred thousand dollars.

  Laker and Tim both emitted low, envious whistles and stopped in their tracks to stare longingly at the gleaming body. I carried on toward the entrance of the station, desperate for rehydration and air conditioning.

  The door swung open just as I was about to push. I stood back to let the customer pass, and froze. It was the forest ranger.

  He was wearing the same clothes as yesterday, the dark denim jeans, black t-shirt and, surprisingly given the ensemble, some barely-scuffed black Converse. Finally, in the light of day, I could get a clear look at him.

  Good Lord, he was magnificent!

  Last night, I’d noticed he was large and wide, but in the daylight, it was obvious that the man was a wall of solid muscle. His chiseled jaw was clean-shaven, and his defined facial features portrayed remarkably classic good-looks. His looks were marred only by the slightly too-hollow cheeks and dark shadows under his eyes that gave him an edge which looked almost savage.

  I had been wrong about his eyes. They were a dark midnight blue, but that’s where the strangeness ended. I must have imagined the electric-like sparks that had stormed within them.

  “How’s your ankle?”

  It took a minute for my brain to process. In fact, I was probably staring at him with my mouth hanging open.

  “Uh, fine. Fine. Thanks for asking.”

  He looked down at my bare legs. I suddenly wished I wasn’t wearing such short shorts. His gaze travelled from my legs up my body slowly. The look in his eyes was raw and hungry with an intensity that made me feel exposed, and I shuddered involuntarily.

  “H.. how’s the bear,” I stuttered when it became apparent that he wasn’t going to speak.

  “Recovering.”

  I saw him unconsciously flip a set of keys in his hand. The unmistakable logo of the McLaren flashed in the sunlight.

  “Was that the ‘truck’ you carted him off in?” I quipped, staring pointedly at the key.

  “I thought about it. But blood’s a nightmare to get off upholstery.” He smirked at me, showing off a set of gleaming white teeth. I took a step back.

  “They must pay you well. I didn’t realize ranger positions were so lucrative.”

  He raised an eyebrow at my pointed tone.

  “Sorry,” I blushed slightly, “That was rude.”

  Damn my lack of a filter. But in my defense, I couldn’t quite merge the sharp, well-dressed man in front of me with the profession of a park ranger. He looked like he’d be more comfortable in a board room, despite the Converse.

  “It’s fine,” he shrugged, “I have other interests.”

  “Chloe?” A sharply questioning voice interrupted and Tim came to stand next to me, slinging an arm around my shoulder.

  “I thought you were getting water?”

  I shrugged him off, wanting to punch him in the ribs for thinking he could be this territorial around me when I was speaking to another guy.

  “This is the park ranger. He rescued the injured bear,” I replied.

  Tim held out his hand, but I could see that he was reluctant to do so. The ranger towered above Tim, and was easily twice as broad.

  “Tim Hutchins, nice to meet you.”

  The ranger looked him up and down, with a very different expression than the one he’d just adopted with me.

  “Nathan.” He replied tersely. He didn’t shake Tim’s proffered hand. Instead he looked toward me, expectantly.

  “I’m Chloe. Chloe Carpenter.”

  He nodded, his expression contemplative.

  “Very nice to meet you, Chloe Carpenter.” He replied eventually.

  “Nice to meet you…Nathan.”

  The name sounded strange on my lips. It was a common enough name, but there was something that suddenly seemed so personal about referr
ing to him that way.

  He walked back to his car, not saying another word. As I watched him move across the parking lot, I couldn’t help but be reminded of a beast’s prowl. There was so much repressed power and control in his movements.

  Tim and Laker watched him as greedily as I did. I saw Tim pale when the engine thundered to life and the machine revved out of the lot.

  I smiled to myself and went inside.

  5

  Monday came too soon. My whole body ached from the hike, hurting in places that I didn’t even know I had. Sunday night I’d immersed myself in a bath with Epson Salts, but it hadn’t seemed to make the tiniest bit of difference to my aching muscles. I felt like I needed another weekend to recover from the one I’d just had.

  Brianna had called me later on Sunday night. I’d been dropped off around four, so I was surprised to hear from her so soon. She wanted to talk about the bear. How did I think he was? Where did I think the ranger was keeping him? She’d been looking up bear sanctuaries online, but couldn’t find any in the immediate Denver area. I hadn’t known how to respond, other than to repeatedly sooth her anxiety with unfounded reassurances.

  Her behavior was odd, but in truth it was no stranger than mine.

  Since we’d seen the ranger, Nathan, at the gas station, I hadn’t been able to stop thinking about him. I’d never met a man who’d had such an effect on me. I’d met guys I thought where hot before, of course I had. I’d also experienced that little fission of excitement and dreamy head space as I launched into a fully blown crush. But this was different.

  I didn’t know the guy at all, but everything about him intrigued me. His physique, his face, the way his voice sounded, the memory of his warm touch that refused to fade. It all drew me in, preoccupying me so that every thought I had, every action I took, was saturated with the sexy-as-sin Ranger Nathan.

  That’s how I started my day, thinking of him as I walked the few blocks down to Eighth Avenue to work. I stopped off at Starbucks for a non-fat latte, which was ready and waiting for me at the counter when I arrived, and then practically glided through the doors to my office.

  “Looking good dollbaby, hiking obviously agrees with you,” Cory called out from behind the reception desk to me as I crossed the lobby. He looked as good as he usually did. Clearly he’d spent another productive weekend at the gym and topping up his tan.

  “I’m not feeling so hot on the inside, trust me. Everything hurts.” I moaned in reply.

  “No pain, no gain and quit whining. Debra is on the warpath this morning.”

  I rolled my eyes at Cory. He was such a drama queen, highly tuned in to the emotional nuances of our boss. He seemed to live and die by her mood swings. I could handle Debra. She could be frosty, but I respected her a great deal, and that made all the difference. It meant that I could tolerate some of her less redeeming aspects. The package as a whole was worth it.

  She’d brought me in two years ago to set up the digital team at the PR firm that she’d created from scratch. When she’d brought me in, it was just her and Brianna in Debra’s front room. They had been growing rapidly but they were behind the times when it came to digital and social marketing. I now had a team of five working for me, and the firm as a whole was reputed to be the best in the state.

  Debra came marching toward me, her stiletto heels rapping sharply on the wooden floors.

  “I need you in the Varga meeting. The comms manager just called me to say they want digital input.”

  “What time?” I replied, unfazed by her brisk tone.

  “In an hour.”

  “I’ve got a call with Yo-Go, do you want me to reschedule?” Yo-Go was a new trendy yogurt drink that was just about to launch in North America. We’d only just won the pitch. Rescheduling it wouldn’t be ideal, but Debra knew that.

  “You’ll have to. Sorry.”

  She swept passed me, and I continued on to my office texting my perpetually late, but nevertheless brilliant PA. Hopefully she could reschedule the call for later in the day.

  “How are you feeling, Chloe?”

  Laker called out to me from the water cooler. I smiled and waved, not having time to stop. If I was going to be in a meeting with a client in an hour, I needed to do some prep work, stat.

  Debra had spoken to me about the Varga client last week, but I’d been focused on two on-going pitches at the time, and most of it had gone in one ear and out the other. All I could recall was that the company was heavily involved in surgical and medical products.

  I did a search online, and found their site. It was what you’d expect from a business-to-business enterprise, blue and white design cues of the medical industry, somber fonts and lengthy, detailed texts. There was a ‘For Investors’ tab, and I clicked on that. It sent me to a page with streams of press release links on financial profits, and a few recent photos of a company event; nothing of particular value. But I couldn’t find out who owned the company, if anyone actually did, or who the major shareholders were.

  “Are you coming to the meeting?” Brianna poked her head around the office door. I looked at my watch. I’d managed to have a hugely unproductive hour.

  “I am. Any heads up on this thing?” I hissed at her as we sped to the central meeting room.

  “Not much, I can fill you in later. Basically they want the same thing all major corporations want, a friendly face and a Twitter feed. You’ll be fine.”

  “Who are we meeting?”

  “The CEO, Nathan Varga, head of marketing, Lucy Fielding, and a couple of other marketing heads.”

  Another Nathan.

  I sighed, frustrated. Having the name of a key client replicating the name of my strange obsession wasn’t going to help me get over him. I took a sip of coffee and forced myself to stay focused. Ranger Nathan would be forgotten within a week. Nathan Varga, CEO and head of Varga Corporation, would mean thousands of dollars-worth of business pumping into our company coffers.

  6

  Lucy Fielding was an attractive, willowy woman in her late thirties. I warmed to her immediately as she entered the room. I generally liked seeing women heading up departments in Fortune Five-hundred companies, and she had an easy manner that set a relaxed tone for the start of the meeting.

  “I’m sorry Nathan’s running late. He had a conflicting appointment that’s run over, unfortunately,” she smiled brightly at Debra, Brianna and me, “In the meantime, it would be great if you could take me through your usual process. I’m particularly interested in amplifying our digital presence, so if you could start with that?”

  “Sure,” I returned the smile, “I can show you a couple of cases studies as well, if we have the time.”

  I didn’t normally like giving presentations without any prior notice, but our digital process deck was something I’d talked through with clients hundreds of times before.

  I was half way through when Cory announced Nathan Varga’s presence. I looked up, my client-friendly smile at the ready.

  Standing in the doorway to the meeting room, taking up the entire doorframe, was Forest Ranger Nathan. Except this man looked every inch the CEO of a billion-dollar company. He was dressed in an impeccable grey suit and white shirt, with his longish hair tucked neatly behind his ears.

  Debra and Brianna turned to stand and welcome him. I watched Brianna look confused, as if she vaguely recognized him, but clearly dismissed the thought and welcomed him in a professional manner.

  I wasn’t as capable. He came toward me, arm outstretched in greeting. I shook his hand slowly, feeling goosebumps run up my arm and over my body as his warm skin touched mine.

  “I’m Nathan Varga, pleased to meet you.” His tone was formal, giving little indication that we’d met before, but his eyes said something else. They were teasing, challenging. Daring me to say something.

  Two can play at that game.

  I smiled as breezily as I could, “Chloe Carpenter, a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Varga.”

  He cocked an eyebrow, an
d shot me a quick smirk before taking a seat at the table.

  “It seems I was interrupting something. Please, go ahead Ms. Carpenter,” he drawled.

  I nodded and turned back to the screen, trying to recall what the hell I’d been saying before he came in. The words on the deck seemed to swim and dance, completely nonsensical. Starting to panic, I looked over at Debra. Her face was turning puce as I stood there, unable to speak.

  Though it said I’d be getting my ass chewed later, Debra’s look saved me. My job swam back into focus. Nathan Varga might very well look like sex-on-a-stick, he also might very well be a deadly stalker tracking me all over the greater Denver area, but he was also our client. Debra didn’t pay me to stand, admire and drool.

  The meeting progressed without any more hitches. Lucy did most of the talking, outlining what they were looking for in terms of creating an ‘approachable’ face for the company.

  I tried not to stare at Nathan as we discussed the project, but I couldn’t seem to tear my eyes away. He didn’t belong in that suit. Not that it didn’t look good. It looked amazing, but there was something about him that made the suit resemble a shackle – like he wanted to break free of the confining tie and buttoned shirt, shed his clothing completely and…

  And what?

  Oh, crap, where was my mind going? I blushed as he caught my eye. I looked away. Honestly, in that moment, I irrationally wondered if he was psychic. I hoped to God he wasn’t hearing my thoughts. He cleared his throat, a strange gurgle of a sound that was suspiciously like suppressed laughter. I glared at him sharply, but his face was a mask of composure.

  “It was lovely to meet you, Chloe,” Lucy smiled at me as we shook hands goodbye, “The digital approach you guys take is fantastic. I’m really looking forward to us working together.”