Romance: The Sheikh Bear: BBW Paranormal Shapeshifter Romance (Sheikh Romance, BBW Paranormal Romance, Bear Shifter Romance)

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Romance: The Sheikh Bear: BBW Paranormal Shapeshifter Romance (Sheikh Romance, BBW Paranormal Romance, Bear Shifter Romance) Page 13

by Ashley Hunter


  Couldn’t a knight in shining armor come along? I shouldn’t think like that. Women don’t need knights anymore. But I need a relationship. No, not need. I want a relationship. Is it too much to ask? Does pining for it make me a villain for my gender? Where’s my John Wayne or Humphrey Bogart? Hell, where’s my Raylan Givens?

  Maybe I should not be thinking about fictional characters.

  Reality is stranger than fiction and I had always lived by that rule. But nothing in my life had happened that proved this axiom. That didn’t stop me from believing in it, but I had to agree that the strength of my conviction was waning, as is if often the case when you keep waiting for moments that never come.

  What happened in the next few weeks is beyond strange. I should never have doubted it.

  This is the story of what happened.

  II.

  The Beginning

  It was a dark and rainy night. It really was, I am not stating a cliché of noirs. Thor must be having one hell of a party.

  I had been held back at my office due to a sudden crisis in the Middle East. I worked for a political think tank and due to the uncertain global condition; our work hours usually didn’t limit themselves to Pacific Standard Time.

  I had my umbrella open but it wasn’t doing much good. The rain seemed to be coming in from all four directions; the wind sure wasn’t helping. There were no taxis to be found and it wasn’t a surprise.

  Who would be willing to risk driving in weather like this? I kept on walking, the cold biting my skin like a sharp teethed animal. The thought of finally reaching home, in my warm cozy bed was all that kept me going. If only I had somebody to cozy up to. Hmmm. Wouldn’t that be nice?

  I mentally shook myself. This wasn’t the time or the place to think about such thing; though I couldn’t help but playback the lyrics of the famous song in me: Let me kiss you hard in the pouring rain. Truer words had rarely been said.

  Maybe this was the reason or maybe it was the water pummeling the leaves of the trees and the streets and the buildings that I didn’t hear anything whistle by near me.

  If it had been a quite night, I surely would have noticed something. But this being the night that it was, I didn’t feel someone walk up behind me. I didn’t feel when they pressed a cloth over my face, the smell reminding me of hospital rooms and oddly, bars.

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