Bearly Desire: A Bear Shifter Romance Read online

  Bearly Desire

  A Bear Shifter Romance

  Liza Lightwood

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Excerpt of Lion Lord’s Kiss

  Claimed Bride

  Arranged Bride

  Stolen Bride

  Paranormal Academy, Elite Deceit

  Copyright © 2017 by Liza Lightwood

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

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  Chapter One

  Josephine’s mother had chosen her name after seeing a gorgeous portrait of Joséphine de Beauharnais, the empress and first wife of Napoleon. History had been in Josephine Baxter’s blood since she was born. She was fascinated by it, obsessed with the small print of old texts in the library.

  Her body grew curves while she sat at a worn desk in her apartment. Men spotted her long mahogany curls and stopped to ask her for dates at coffee shops. She politely declined most of their requests, which were usually aimed at her ample cleavage in a V-neck sweater. Her girlfriends begged her to let them set up dates for her, but Josephine’s mind would wander during a happy hour blind date to the stack of journals sitting on her bookshelf.

  When Clara, one of her close friends from college, demanded a lunch date, Josephine hadn’t expected an offer for a different sort of date.

  “Roman Williams,” Clara said with a theatrical gesture of her hands. Her expectant look made Josephine frown.

  “Who?”

  Clara rolled her eyes.

  “I swear, if a man isn’t dead, then you wouldn’t possibly know about him. Weren’t you just talking about the “Den” thing last week?”

  Josephine’s gaped at her friend, shock and excitement warring in her chest.

  “The Midnight Den?” She asked. “Yes, the Den is supposedly a secret society. It’s been difficult finding any information about them.” She wasn’t sure if she was more surprised that Clara, a fanatic for fashion and not much else, had remembered her mentioning the elusive social club a week ago or that her friend might have information about them.

  She’d come across a few surprising references to them in the past month, but other than that, there was next to no information involving them.

  “Well, I’ve got a scoop,” Clara whispered excitedly over her glass of chilled white wine. “A handsome devil I used to date back in high school is a member. I ran into him the other weekend and he went overboard with his whiskey. He started blubbering about the Midnight Den and I played dumb to get some info about it.”

  Josephine could’ve tackled the other woman from across the table to hug her.

  “Your luck never stops,” she muttered. “What did he say?”

  “It’s a boys’ club, of course. Real secretive lot. Apparently the group has been run by a Williams’ son since forever,” Clara said, her face glowing with excitement over the fact that she’d learned some classified information. She was a marketing director, but she should’ve been a journalist.

  “Williams, Williams,” Josephine echoed under her breath. “Why does that name sound familiar?”

  Clara shrugged.

  “Don’t ask me, but I think they might be a military family. Old money, judging from Roman Williams’ townhouse. Get this,” she dropped her voice to a whisper and leaned in closer. “Apparently, Roman is in need of a historian. He wants someone to do some digging around in old documents. He’s trying to find some Den document that was lost a century ago.”

  Josephine raised her eyebrows.

  “Your old beau sounds like he was wasted if he spilled all of this to you.”

  “I might’ve mentioned that I had a history expert for a friend,” Clara said with an innocent flutter of her eyelashes. “I might’ve also handed him your contact information to pass along to Roman Williams, who is gorgeous heartbreaker, FYI.”

  An excited tingle ran through Josephine’s entire body, but not from the image of a supermodel employer. She imagined the beauty of having access to primary sources that were kept in a private family collection. If she found that document, she might be able to find a wealth of new information. The Den’s secrets could reveal a whole new world to her.

  “He might not call,” she muttered. Worry pinched at the back of her neck. Clara smiled slyly.

  “He’s going to. I have a feeling.”

  Chapter Two

  Josephine reminded herself to add ‘psychic’ to the list of other careers that Clara could hold when her phone rang on Monday morning.

  “Hi, this is Josephine,” she answered softly. Stationed in the corner of a cozy cafe, she strained to hear the person on the other line.

  “Ms. Baxter?” a nasally drawl asked.

  She frowned. “Yes, this is she.”

  “Oh, good,” the caller responded and she couldn’t help thinking that he sounded like an elderly man. She couldn’t remember giving her contact information to an older gentleman lately, so she racked her brains for who he might be. Maybe a source?

  “How can I help you?” she asked, watching a barista as she stocked cups on the counter.

  “My name is Robert,” he said in a chipper voice. “My employer would like to set up a meeting with you. Can I send a car to you now?”

  Her gaze darted down to her tight yoga pants and old top from a college club.

  “Um, can it be in an hour or two?” she asked, cursing herself for not washing her hair this morning.

  “Lovely. I’ll send a car to your address in two hours. Thank you, Ms. Baxter. My employer looks forward to meeting you.” There was a small pause. “Be advised that some people find him abrasive on the first meeting. He means well.”

  The call ended. She stared at the phone in her hand, hovering dangerously above her half-drained mocha latte. Was this actually happening?

  Clara squealed on the phone as Josephine jogged all the way back to her apartment.

  “I knew it!” she cried victoriously. Josephine hopped into the elevator, cradling her phone next to her ear, as she tried to think of what was clean in her closet.

  “Should I wear the black dress? Or is it too tight?” she asked while chewing on her lip. Clara giggled wildly.

  “This is the first time I’ve ever heard you worried about your outfit,” she commented. “You should wear the forest green one. It looks great with your hair. He’ll want to hire you and screw you.”

  Josephine nearly choked. “Clara! This is a job!”

  “Business and pleasure is the way to go.”

  It was hard to think about anything but business as she got ready. She flew into a hot shower to scrub her finest soap all over herself. For her hair, she pulled out her finest hair products. The green dress in her closet was miraculously free of wrinkles. She pulled it on with a pair of plain black pumps and rushed to her vanity to dust on some makeup.

  By the time the car arrived, she’d groomed every inch of herself and managed to arrange a makeshift portfolio of her work to show Williams. When she glanced at her reflection, immaculate and clutching all of
her hard work, she smiled. It was breakthroughs like this that got research for ground-breaking books started.

  She was already imagining makeshift titles and debating on footnotes or endnotes when the car rolled up to her apartment. It was a sleek town car, an elegant staple that she was used to seeing in movies lampooning the rich. But, here she was, about to slide inside on imported leather seats. A chauffeur with a shock of silver hair underneath his cap got out of the car. She nearly squeaked at his size. He was massive.

  His towering frame sidled up beside her.

  “Evening, Ms. Baxter. I’m Leo. Robert has sent me to retrieve you for our employer. Are you ready?” He asked. His smile was surprisingly friendly as she craned her neck to look up at him.

  “Um, yes,” she muttered and got in when he opened the door. His head nearly touched the roof when he got into the driver’s seat. She couldn’t help the remark that flew out of her mouth.

  “You’re as tall as a bear!”

  His only reply was the loudest series of laughs that she’d ever heard. They shook the car. He was nearly crying when they pulled away from the curb.

  “That was rude,” she moaned into her hands. He cackled in the front.

  “Not at all,” he muttered with an amused look at her through the rear view mirror. “You’re right about that.” His answer simmered with a hidden meaning that she couldn’t understand. She felt the warmth in her cheeks for the whole ride as she repeated apologies and he waved them off. Finally, she remembered their destination and stared at the portfolio in her lap.

  “Leo, Is Mr. Williams easy to work with?” she asked. The chauffeur shrugged his massive shoulders.

  “I suppose that depends on who you are. For a pretty thing like you, I imagine he’ll be awful sweet,” he said with a knowing wink. “But, he is particular. When he hires someone to do a job, he wants it done in a very specific way. He also demands a certain...privacy that some may find on the paranoid side.”

  She nodded in silence. They drove for what seemed like hours before Leo glided down a lonely immaculate street that led into rolling hills. She admired the scenery as it passed, feeling the nerves in her stomach grow as the car manoeuvred through the green landscape. Finally, a magnificent house arose in the distance. A gasp escaped her before she could stifle it.

  “It’s a beauty, isn’t it?” He chuckled. “Mr. Williams likes to escape to his country home for weeks on end. When you work for him, he can meet you at his townhome in the city.”

  When she worked for him. She bit her lip. It seemed as if her position had already been decided, but her mother always told her to never get her hopes up. She smoothed her skirt as they approached the massive stone mansion. It almost seemed as if someone had transported a modest European castle to the outskirts of an American city.

  As they went through the gate, she noted an emblem of a crescent moon on the wrought iron center.

  “Midnight Den,” she whispered to herself.

  “What was that?” Leo asked.

  She cleared her throat. “Sorry, I was just talking to myself.”

  As they approached, she noted two men in black suits with earpieces walking throughout the property.

  “Do I need to get out my ID?” she asked Leo as she eyed the towering figures.

  “No, no,” he said with a chuckle. “Mr. Williams is often contracted by the military for various projects. Every man in his family served at one point, and then they transition into contract work. I wish I could tell you more, but even I don’t know. But no worries, the security is fielding terrorist intelligence, not historians.”

  They parked in front of the house in a horseshoe driveway that was paved with polished cobblestones. Her heels clicked against them as he led her up to the house. The same crescent moon was carved into the doors. Her heart skipped a beat when he led her into a lounge to wait.

  “My employer will be with your shortly,” he explained with a small bow. “Robert will be by with some refreshments.”

  She settled into the plush chair as his footsteps faded. While she admired a painting above the mantle, someone strode in.

  “Do you take cream in your coffee, Ms. Baxter?” The casual drawl made her jump.

  A handsome older man with a thin scar down one side of his face stood in the doorway. He was dressed in a suit, looking as if he’d stepped from a storybook as the butler.

  “Are you Robert?” she asked.

  “I certainly am,” he answered smoothly. “Is that a ‘no’ to the coffee?”

  “Oh, please! Black is fine, thank you.”

  He nodded.

  “My employer will be here shortly. I’ll bring the refreshments up shortly.”

  She stared off into space after he left, feeling pinpricks of anxiety all over her body. It was odd. All of Roman’s employees had called him “my employer” for the most part. It seemed odd that they wouldn’t address him as Mr. Williams. Her mind churned. She clutched the portfolio close to her chest, suddenly feeling bashful that a slit of her cleavage was showing beneath her thin gold necklace.

  Who exactly was Roman Williams?

  And why did meeting him feel like being introduced to royalty?

  “Josephine.”

  A deep voice shocked her from her thoughts, the second time someone had snuck up on her. She jumped and whirled around. There was another entrance that she hadn’t noticed. From beyond the stranger’s shoulders, she could see that it was attached to a study. Her eyes came into focus on the body standing in the arched doorway.

  She inhaled sharply as his glittering gray eyes came into focus. His broad frame shifted beneath his sharp suit and a devilish smile spread across his face, rendering him both dashing and terrifying.

  “My name is Roman Williams,” he introduced in a velvety soft voice. “I only have one question before we begin. Are you afraid of the dark?”

  Chapter Three

  Job interviews had never sparked lustful feelings within her, but she’d never had a potential employer like Roman.

  “Your history is impressive,” he stated with a commanding tilt of his chin. His firm grip on her portfolio sent a shiver through her after she allowed herself the naughty thought of those strong fingers stroking her body.

  “I understand that you worked on the city’s restoration project two years ago?” he prompted and his question snapped her back.

  It’d been a project that she worked on after recently graduating college. As public interest projects went, most of the credit went to elected officials and her name wasn’t mentioned at all, despite her hours of hard work.

  “Yes,” she replied in a wavering voice. “How did you know that? I don’t remember mentioning it…”

  His smirk stoked a flame within her chest. “I have several associates in the public sector. You’d be surprised what a phone call can reveal,” he said. “Someone said you were incredibly dedicated to your work. Several sources have told me that your love for history is unrivaled. You don’t seem to be doing this work for anything but personal passion.”

  “I love history,” she admitted in a soft voice. “I’m dedicated to my interests.” A sweltering heat rose in the room. She skimmed her cool fingers against the back of her neck, a motion that he followed with laser focus.

  His eyes flashed. “What are you interested in, Josephine?”

  “Different things,” she admitted around the nervous knot in her throat. His eyebrows rose. The pause hung over her with a suffocating force. Yep, it was time to change the subject. “You asked me if I was afraid of the dark.”

  “You said that you weren’t,” he recalled with a nod. The curve of his lip twitched higher.

  “Why did you ask me that?”

  He chuckled, a deep delicious sound that filled the room. “You need guts for this job.” The formality in his voice waned, replaced by something wicked. “I’m an awful guy to work for, honestly.”

  She hummed with disbelief. “I find that hard to believe. Leo and Robert spo
ke highly of you,” she said with a shrug.

  “They have to love me,” he said with a lazy grin. “They’ve been with the family for a long time, you see.”

  The idea of having generations of servants was too foreign for her to comprehend. She wouldn’t know what to do with a maid if she were rich enough to have one.

  After several minutes of sitting together, something dawned on her. The air of elite mystery faded from Roman the longer they talked. His posture had grown more casual; his tall, muscular body leaned into the chair instead of sitting ramrod straight. When he tilted his head to gaze at her, her tightly wound nerves almost snapped from the added tension.

  She searched for a word to describe him. Overall, his tall, thick build said he was more suited to playing professional football rather than sitting behind a desk. But something else lurked, just beneath the surface, almost like an internal aura.

  Dangerous, her mind unexpectedly supplied. She bit her lip at the sudden revelation. He smiled, amused and calm, across from her and she found herself wondering if perhaps he could read her mind. She definitely hoped not.

  “If you work for me, I want my work to be your only focus. You’ll be living here with me in my country home until the project is finished. I have several locations all over the city that I want you to explore,” his explanation brooked no room for negotiations. He demanded what he wanted and expected her to agree to his terms. That told her that he was a man used to getting exactly what he wanted, when he wanted it.

  His face held a blank, brooding expression while she simply studied him. Confidence washed off him in large, rolling waves. He wasn’t a man to take refusal lightly. Yes, she wanted this job; however, she wondered if perhaps she could get what she wanted as well.

  “Can you agree to my terms?” he asked after a few moments of prolonged silence; a sudden impiety marring his face. “I don’t tolerate deception or slacking off. You should know that I’m very good at discipline.”