“Too bad for him,” Vixa said, “It might extend his lifespan if he did.”
“No, it wouldn’t,” Blake shook his head. “We’ll hunt him down to the ends of the Earth. He’s a monster and with my cubs soon to be in this world I’m not going to tolerate any form of the boogie man wandering the same planet they’re on.”
“What are we going to do with him, honey?” Bree laughed. “Send Marcello to Mars?”
“That might work,” Anne laughed from the corner of the room.
It took four limos to carry the group to the press conference at Times Square. Blake sat tensely with his arm wrapped around Bree’s shoulder. His free hand rested protectively on her stomach. She’d swat his hand away only for him to place it there again when she wasn’t paying attention.
“Quit that!” she laughed and swatted his hand again.
“It’s instinct,” Blake said and kissed her cheek.
“It’s annoying,” Bree said.
“Sorry,” Blake said and moved his hand.
‘Did I tell you to move your hand?”
“You told me to stop it.”
Bree pulled his and back onto her stomach.
“It’s sort of sweet that you’re so protective.”
“They’re our cubs,” Blake said. “They’re the living breathing proof of our love.”
“I don’t think they have lungs yet and it might just be cub.”
“You know what I mean,” he kissed her, “and one or seven I’ll protect them all with my life.”
“If I have seven cubs you’re not going to be around to protect anyone with your life. I’m going to tear your balls off so you can never put me through that again!” Bree laughed.
“We’re here,” Blake sighed as the limo pulled to a stop.
“I didn’t think so many people would show up,” Bree said.
“It’s not every day half animals get civil rights and citizenship,” Blake rolled his eyes.
“Smile for the camera,” Bree said. “Play nice with them and we’ll play naughty when we get home.”
She pressed her lips hard against his as the driver opened the door.
“Deal,” Blake whispered and slid from the limo.
Blake helped Bree out of the limo and together they turned to face the crowd. Bree entwined her fingers through his and gave his hand a reassuring squeeze. He smiled at her as their security team fell into place.
It had begun as a way to show unity, but it annoyed Blake more than he wanted to admit. He was stronger than most of the shifters that were part of the team. Today their presence didn’t annoy him as much as usual. Today the extra security was welcomed as long as they kept their distance from Bree and her pregnant belly.
One by one the shifters accepted their certificates of citizenship. Several important people spoke, but Blake found his attention wandering away from their speeches. They didn’t care if shifters had rights and citizenship. The government was only concerned with the containing the backlash that had resulted from the undeniable leak of their incompetence at shutting down their own illegal labs.
Bree smiled up at him, but the grin didn’t reach her eyes.
“We’ll be okay,” he whispered in her ear and nuzzled her neck. “They can’t take this from us. They’re nervous. They might outnumber us, but we’re all energetically engineered to be able to wipe out humans easily. They were our prey all along. If they try something we’ll give them the same end that CASO received. I promise that our cubs will grow up in safety. They won’t live lives like ours, Bree. They won’t have to look over their shoulders and sniff the air for threats before turning a corner and they certainly won’t have to fight armed gunmen just to go to the market.”
“Just remember you’re not in this alone, Blake,” Bree kissed him on the cheek.
“I’ll fight with or without them,” Blake said leaning his head towards a large group of shifters.
“I wasn’t talking about them,” Bree smiled. “I’m here too. We’re in this together. I’ve got your back. Do you know how dangerous and angry a she-bear is when she’s pregnant?”
Ignoring the crowd, Blake put his arms around Bree’s waist and pulled her close to his body. He nuzzled her neck and took a long slow deep breath to inhale her scent. When their eyes met, his hungry mouth claimed hers. He ignored the catcalls coming from the shifters and the humans alike.
“I love you, Bree.”
“I love you too, Blake, just remember. It’s not you against the world. It’s you and me against the world.”
THE END
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BOOK THREE
THE PLAYBEAR BILLIONAIRE
A Paranormal Shifter Romance
MARIA AMOR
Copyright ©2015 by Maria Amor
All rights reserved.
About This Book
“When A Billionaire Playboy Werebear Meets His Potential Mate...”
Alexander Oberon is the Billionaire CEO of Oberon Industrial. He is also a Werebear.
Since he is young, good looking and very wealthy he can have almost any woman he wants and he knows it. Hence, why he has no interest in finding a mate.
That was, until he met the beautiful and curvy Daphne Jackson.
For the first time ever, Alexander feels he might have met a potential mate and he wants to make Daphne his. However, when a face from his past shows up things are not going to be that simple.
Can Daphne really be the one to tame this PlayBear Billionaire? Or is a bear like him impossible to tame?
READ ON TO FIND OUT WHAT HAPPENS...
CHAPTER 1
“Alex, eventually you’re going to have to find someone to settle down with.” Alexander didn’t quite brush past his mother as he came into the house; he wasn’t surprised to find her waiting for him. He closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead. Ever since his father passed, his mother had brought up the subject of him finding a mate at least once a day.
“Ma, I have an event to get to,” he said, turning to face her. Jessica Oberon was a tall, slim woman—not as tall as Alexander’s father, who had seemed like a giant to Alex when he had been younger, but above average height, with fine features and the piercing blue eyes that Alexander had inherited.
“You’re always so busy,” she said, not quite complaining as she followed him up the stairs towards his room. “If you’re not working late, you’re out all night partying.”
“That would be because I inherited Dad’s company when he passed and because I enjoy partying,” Alexander countered.
“You’re the only heir, Alex,” Jessica said, her voice somehow full of patience and vehemence at the same time. “Your father worked very hard to bring his company to where it is now. You’re doing an excellent job, but there are a lot of people out there who’d love to take it over.”
“You talk about it like I’m a king of a country,” Alexander said. Jessica stayed in the sitting room attached to his bedroom, while Alexander went into his room to change.
“Being the CEO of a company as big as the one you’ve inherited is the modern equivalent,” Jessica said from her position on the couch.
Alexander slipped off his suit jacket and loosened his tie, opening the door to his closet. He was soon heading to a charity gala—a celebration and an attempt to get more donations for one of the causes closest to his heart: animal rights.
“Mom, I’m in my twenties still. I will find a mate when I find a mate—and yes, I am more than aware of the fact that there are matchmakers available to help me make a choice.”
“I just want to see you happy, and I want to see your father’s legacy pr
otected,” Jessica said.
Alexander quickly stepped out of his trousers and tossed his work clothes aside. He knew that technically speaking, the clothing he’d worn into the office was appropriate to the occasion at hand, but after hours of living in it, sweating in it, Alexander wanted nothing more than to get it off.
He went into the master bathroom and splashed water on his face. One of the few things that Alexander had long before decided he could do without—among the traits he had inherited from his parents—was the higher-than-normal body temperature that came along with their special gift. He splashed more water across his chest and dried off quickly, going back into his bedroom and taking a sharp, pared-down tuxedo out of his closet.
“I promise you, mother,” he said, changing into the tux as quickly as he could, “I’m not avoiding finding a mate, I’m just taking my time to do it. I want to be sure I’m with the right woman. You and Dad didn’t get together until you were both thirty.”
“The stakes weren’t as high for us as they are for you,” Jessica reminded him. Alexander sighed, scratching lightly at his scalp. He twisted and folded his bowtie, tying it blindly with the ease of much practice. He put his jacket over his arm and stepped out of his room.
Jessica stood and looked him over, her bright blue eyes warming at the sight of him. “I find it hard to believe that you have any lack of choices,” she said, stepping closer to him and straightening his bowtie slightly.
“It’s not a matter of the number of choices, it’s just that I haven’t found anyone yet.” Alexander paused and took his mother’s hands in his, bringing them up to kiss them. “Please, can we drop this for at least a week or two?” Jessica took a deep breath and sighed.
“Okay, fine,” she said, brushing imaginary lint off his shoulders. “I won’t mention it again for a week. You can hold me to it.” She stood up on the balls of her feet and kissed him on the cheek. “Have fun tonight, dear.”
Alexander gave his mother a tight—almost crushing—hug, kissing her on the cheek. In spite of his increasing frustration at his mother’s near-constant reminders of his bachelor status and her desire for a grandchild from him, Alexander couldn’t really be angry at the woman herself. He understood that she was looking for some thread of continuity from the husband she had lost. As the only child, Alexander was responsible for making sure that the family business stayed afloat, and that there was someone to inherit after him.
His mother’s chauffeured car was waiting for her at the door to the house, and she gave him a pat on the back as the driver opened the back door for her. Alexander watched her settle in the seat as the driver went to his post; his own limousine was parked behind, waiting to take him to the charity event.
In a moment, her car was pulling away and Alex’s driver was pulling up. Alex took his phone out of his pocket and checked the time. He would arrive a little after the festivities started—perfectly in keeping with his normal habits.
During the drive to the gala, Alexander considered his mother’s insistence on him finding a woman to settle down with. He could see her perspective on the issue, but he’d had more than his fair share of warnings to be very careful in his dating life. Alexander Oberon, the wealthy son of a powerful CEO and billionaire, had never lacked for woman for bed partners. But he had only allowed a few women to truly get close to the essence of who he was.
When the changes had started happening during his teen years—when he came to terms with the destiny that his father had told him about from childhood—Alexander had suffered through insecurity and shame, knowing that if most of the world outside of the special prep school he had gone to knew the truth about what he was, they would label him a freak.
The first time he had transformed, around the age of sixteen, Alexander had decided that he would never date a woman seriously who wasn’t of his own kind. He couldn’t imagine ever being able to completely trust anyone who didn’t share his secret—who didn’t feel the pull of the moon every month, who didn’t have the urge to hunt and bury themselves in the safety of the deep woods to answer the call of an essence that was far from human.
If he had wanted an arranged marriage, it would be easy; he would only have to apply to one of the matchmakers in the community and he or she would give Alex a list of eligible and interested potential matches, all of them shifters like himself, all of them from good families. But Alex—in spite of his normal pragmatism—wanted more than just a marriage with someone who happened to have compatible interests. He wanted someone who he could trust not just with his animalistic secret, but his human mind as well, someone interesting and able to keep up with him. He wanted someone who would understand every level of the being he was.
In college, studying, and partying alike—and his father had encouraged him in both pursuits—Alexander had started to see regular human women casually. He would go on a few dates, invite them to stay the night at his apartment in the city, and then break up with them before anything serious could happen.
The one time he had let himself veer from that course, the one time he had let a human woman in past his normal level, she had seen him partially transform in the grip of a nightmare—had seen the fur burst through his human skin, his hands begin to shift into broad, blunt paws—and had been terrified.
He had managed to convince her, since it had been late at night and she had been sleeping too, that it had been her own terrible dream, but once she had put the thought of him becoming, in her own words, “some kind of creature” out of her mind, he had carefully ended the relationship.
Since he had assumed control of his father’s business interests the year before, Alexander had felt the need to live up to the image of a bachelor CEO, seen about town with women of all types on his arms—dates he hired from a modeling agency. Some of them he slept with off the official clock, some of them he sent back to their own apartments in his personal limousine. He never lacked for physical comfort, but in spite of the fact that he was terrified of the prospect of settling down, Alexander had to admit to himself that it would be nice to come home to someone.
The limousine pulled up to the entrance of the hotel hosting the gala and Alexander stirred himself. He was prepared to make a more lavish donation to the Animal Rights Coalition—ARC—because it was a cause that was very important to him; maybe, if he was lucky, he would run into someone interesting at the party. It would at least liven up my evening, he thought.
As he stepped out of the car, Alexander put on a perfunctory smile, hearing the snap of photos and seeing the flashing of lights immediately. He wasn’t the biggest celebrity of the evening—there were actual celebrities who worked with ARC—but he was an interesting enough target that the paparazzi would be glad of a few pictures of him walking into the gala. He made his way up along the walkway leading to the entrance, waving a few times, thinking to himself that in some respects losing the prestige and power he had inherited would almost be welcome.
The party was well underway when he walked into the ballroom, scanning the crowd for anyone he might want to avoid. His first glance around the room told him that it was mostly safe; there were a few bores who had known his father, but there wasn’t anyone who held a particular grudge against him waiting to start a fight.
“Alex, it’s so good to see you.” Alex turned to see the president of the nonprofit, Amelia Blaise, walking towards him.
“I’m sure it is,” he said with a slightly more genuine smile. “Don’t worry; I brought my checkbook with me.” Amelia rolled her eyes.
“We’re not out for just money tonight, Alex—we want spokespeople. You’ve always donated so generously to us in the past; why won’t you do us the honor of speaking for our cause now that you’re in the public eye so much more?”
“I made an agreement with myself never to promote anything other than myself,” Alexander said with a wry twist of his lips. “Tell me how much you need, Amelia, and I’m happy to give it, but I’m not cut out for the spokesperson role.”
“I know one person who can convince you otherwise,” Amelia said, with a little self-satisfied smile.
“I would like to meet her, then,” Alexander said, shaking his head. “I’ve already decided against it and I’ve never gone back on a decision in my life.”
“Well, we have a new recruitment hire—and I personally think she could convince a T. Rex to speak for us.”
“This could be fun,” Alexander said, smiling slowly. “Lead the way.”
*
The woman who Amelia led Alexander to was in the midst of a conversation; as they approached, Alex studied her with a practiced eye. She clearly wasn’t a shifter—she didn’t have the body type he associated with shifters, or the energy that seemed to crackle around his kind. She was a regular human, but the animation in her face, in her gestures, was enough to get Alexander’s attention.
She was tiny, but somehow even knowing that objectively didn’t quite seem right. She was easily a foot smaller than him, dressed in green and black velvet, her dark hair pulled back into a fashionable style that gave no clue as to its real length. Her short frame was as curved as an hourglass—the neckline on her dress was only a few crucial steps away from outraging modesty, not because she had deliberately chosen it, Alex thought, but because her bust was so full that it would be difficult for her to pull off dressing demurely.
“Daphne,” Amelia said, calling the younger woman’s attention away from the person she had cornered. The woman turned and Alexander briefly felt himself caught by her big, dark eyes; up close he could smell the scent of her body and the mingled combination of her young, pixie-like face and her scent almost distracted him.
She smelled faintly of soap and perfume, but the fragrance she had chosen was unobtrusive—probably a natural scent, he thought, not some complicated, overpowering perfume made of synthetics. The underlying smell of her body was warm, almost spicy, and Alexander had to exhale sharply—almost sneeze—to get it out of his head.
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