by E A Price
Cecile was sorely tempted as her body heated under his ministrations, but… “You need to eat,” she breathed, even as her swan snapped at her in disappointment.
Boris grunted into her neck as his hand cupped her breast.
“I mean it,” she laughed. “I made you a huge steak with all the trimmings.”
“You spoil me, woman.”
“Nonsense.”
She dismissed it but she flushed in pleasure as she tugged him into the kitchen. He attacked the meal with the zeal of a real bear as Cecile sipped at a cup of chamomile tea. Occasionally he fed her a bite of steak and her cheeks bloomed pink.
They both worked for the Los Lobos branch of the Supernatural Enforcers Agency, Cecile as a director and Boris as a security guard. Boris worked shifts but Cecile set her own hours, and usually tried to fit them in with Boris. But given that she was pregnant, Boris insisted she cut back and he didn’t like her hanging around the office when he was working late. She had worried that Boris would be unhappy at the fact that she earned more money than him. Given that Boris was the epitome of an alpha male, she feared he his macho pride would be hurt. But she was pleasantly surprised that he couldn’t give two figs about that kind of thing - one of his many endearing qualities that set him apart from her two ex-husbands.
Cecile just hoped she could show her family how wonderful he was. They were spending the weekend at her mother’s house up the coast to celebrate Mother’s Day. It was really just an excuse for the family to get together, but her mother had always encouraged Mother’s Day celebrations. She loved her family but… they could be kind of pompous. She adored Boris, but she feared her family would take one look at his rugged face, numerous tattoos, thick muscles and write him off as a brute – which would be completely unfair.
Cecile cut a huge piece of chocolate torte and placed it in front of her mate. He pulled her onto his lap and virtually inhaled it.
“I hope you don’t mind, I packed a suitcase for you.”
“Why would I mind?” he asked between mouthfuls.
“Some men are particular about clothes.” Male swans certainly were.
Boris’ eyes flashed in amusement. “Pair of jeans, couple of t-shirts, I’ll be fine.”
“No underwear?” she teased.
“I can manage without,” he said, rubbing her thigh.
Cecile bit her lip. “Are you looking forward to meeting my family?”
“Sure.”
“Really?”
“Sure, why not?”
“My family can be really… snooty and rude. I hope they don’t do anything to offend you.”
“Offend me?” he chuckled. “Do they talk dirty like you?”
Cecile slapped his shoulder, playfully. Fart was pretty much the worst swear word she could manage. She was far too refined for real curses.
“Pretty sure I can handle anything they throw at me. Besides, I already knocked you up, they can’t get rid of me.”
“No,” she murmured. Her swan clucked in disapproval and Cecile hushed her.
“What?”
“It’s nothing, I just…” She sighed. “I haven’t told my family I’m pregnant yet.”
“Why not?” he growled and she could sense his anger through their bond.
Cecile sighed again and pushed away from him. Reluctantly, he let her and she set about washing his dishes. He waited quietly for her to answer.
“I didn’t purposefully not tell them, but I didn’t want to get their hopes up, or mine for that matter.” She sniffled and Boris silently walked to her and snaked his arms around her. “I was pregnant before and I made a huge deal out of it. My family bought me baby clothes and a crib, and I lost the baby. After that, I tried, but I couldn’t conceive. I’m not a young woman anymore, I just don’t want to disappoint my mother again.”
Boris kissed the top of her head. “It’ll be okay.”
Cecile twisted in his arms and looked up through tear soaked lashes. “You don’t know that.”
He brushed a large thumb over her cheek. “Whatever happens, it’ll be okay. I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
*
Boris let out a whistle. His bear raised his head, huffed in disinterest and returned to his slumber.
“Damn. Fancy house.”
He knew Cecile’s family was raking it in, but double damn. Not that he really gave a crap about that kind of thing. He knew Cecile had money in stocks and shares and shit like that, but he let her get on with it. Cecile lived pretty modestly and thankfully she didn’t try to put him in designer clothes or a sports car. Although she had absolutely insisted on buying him some new t-shirts – she said the holes were just too much. He was proud of the fact that she accepted him just as he was. Just as he accepted her. Not that there was anything that needed changing – his sweet swan was perfect.
Cecile yawned as she blinked awake. She had dozed for the entire journey – something Boris had thoroughly approved of. She needed all the rest she could get, especially after he kept her up half the night making love to her over and over. Yes, as sappy as it sounded, it was making love. Those were words he’d never entertained before he met Cecile. Before her, he fucked, plain and simple. But Cecile was different, he loved her, she was his mate. She deserved more. She was like a princess, and he felt like a damn ogre compared to her.
He knew she was hesitant about the pregnancy, but he hadn’t realized how much until last night. They were newly mated, and there was a lot they didn’t know about each other yet, but he didn’t know she had struggled to conceive before. Hey, they weren’t even trying – she just got pregnant on their second night together. His bear was full of macho pride about that fact. But he was going to do everything he could to make her pregnancy easy.
Cecile rubbed her eyes. “My mother always complains about the house. Something always needs fixing. I suggested that she move to a small, more manageable house, but she won’t hear of it.”
“You grew up here?”
“Yes.” She blushed. “I’ve had my share of bad luck over the years, but overall I have been very fortunate. But I’ve been especially lucky since I met you.”
Boris cocked her a grin and caught one of her hands, pressing his lips to her wrist. “I’m the one who’s lucky.”
His bear yawned and started taking an interest as a very dapperly dressed man stepped out of the house – or rather, mansion.
“That your dad?”
“No. Since my parents divorced, my father spends most of his time in Europe. He won’t be here. That’s my mother’s butler, Dawson. ”
A mirth-filled snort escaped him. “Your mother has a butler?”
“Yes,” she sighed. “And a cook, a driver, two maids, a housekeeper, a gardener, a groomsman for the horses and I believe the housekeeper hires extra people to come in on a daily basis.”
“Damn. Dawson doesn’t look too impressed by my truck.”
Cecile pursed her lips. “That’s his problem. This is one of the safest vehicles on the market.”
Boris kissed her wrist again, ignoring Dawson’s frown of disapproval. A few weeks ago, the amount Cecile knew about cars could be written on a postage stamp, but she had found him fixing his truck and had taken an interest. He had to admit he enjoyed teaching her. She was a good student, and the session ended with her sprawled over the hood screaming his name as he pounded into her. His bear smirked. Yes, that had been particularly enjoyable.
“I suppose we really ought to go in,” she breathed, even as he scented her burgeoning arousal. “I’m sure Dawson would blow a gasket if we really started making out in the car. He’s known me since I was eight.”
“He never caught you with a boyfriend when you were a teenager?” His bear grumbled at that question.
“Never. All my dates were arranged by my mother… and she chaperoned them all.”
Boris hooted with laughter and his bear thoroughly approved. “Sounds like my kind of woman. We have a daughter, I’
m doing the same thing.”
Cecile smiled and instinctively rubbed her stomach. “Come on, I can’t wait to tell her about the baby.”
*
After a brief fight between Dawson who wanted to carry their bags and Boris who wouldn’t let him, they were inside the house. Cecile smiled at her burly mate. She perhaps should have told him to drop it and just let Dawson do his job, but she didn’t. She didn’t want to chastise her mate or try to change him, and there might have been a naughty little part of her that enjoyed the outraged look on Dawson’s face as Boris argued with him. Dawson was far too stuffy for his own good. Her swan honked in agreement.
“Darling!”
Her mother, Marianne strode towards her and took her hands, kissing her on both cheeks. They exchanged a few pleasantries before Marianne’s eyes widened on seeing Boris.
Cecile dropped her mother’s hands before slipping an arm around his waist. “Mother, this is my mate, Boris. Boris, my mother, Marianne.”
Boris grunted out hello and held out his huge paw.
Marianne, for once was speechless. She took in Boris’ boots, jeans, tight t-shirt, myriad of muscles and tattoos and then slowly shook his hand.
“It’s a pleasure,” she said softly.
Her mother’s eyes were particularly drawn to the tattoos on his hands. Cecile didn’t know what her mother would make of them, but she loved them. At night when Boris wrapped his arms around her, she liked to trace the small designs as she fell asleep.
Marianne seemed to be giving her some kind of signal, but Cecile pointedly ignored it.
“Let me introduce you to everyone,” she said finally. “I’m sure everyone’s dying to meet you.”
*
“Mother, how could you?” hissed Cecile, feeling angrier with her mother than she could ever remember. Her swan flapped her wings and snapped her beak.
She found Marianne in the kitchen fussing over the dinner menu.
“Darling, I don’t know what you…”
“How could you invite him here? The fact that I was coming alone should have stopped you, but you knew I was bringing my new mate.”
Yes, her mother had invited Cecile’s ex-husband to the party. That would be ex-husband number two. Both husbands cheated on Cecile. Her first with an old girlfriend who he loved more than Cecile – their marriage had been arranged. The second because Cecile couldn’t conceive and the vain male had wanted to carry on his family line. Both of them were complete… complete… poopholes! The second ex-husband was at the party and had graced her with a superior smile that incited some very alien feelings of anger within Cecile when Marianne introduced Boris to everyone.
Marianne took her hand and led her out of the room, away from the straining, interested ears of the cook.
“I am sorry, darling. Your cousin Louise invited him. You know she is running for a seat on the council, and Edmund’s family has a lot of influence. Apparently, he hinted he wanted to come and she didn’t feel like she had a choice.”
“I wish you had told me in advance.”
Marianne pursed her lips in a very pretty way. Everything Marianne did was perfect. Like Cecile, she was tall and willowy, but her silvery-grey hair was styled into a bob. She was nearly seventy but could easily pass for a woman twenty years younger. She put it down to good manners and poise – things that Cecile tried to attain but never seemed to master entirely. But then for all her gentle pursuits – like flower arranging – Cecile did enjoy things like softball and loved learning about how to fix a car from her mate. These were things that would horrify Marianne.
“Are you saying you would not have come if you had known? We are celebrating Mother’s Day, darling.”
Her swan wasn’t altogether happy, but no, she would never have disappointed her mother. Other people may not believe it, but they had a very loving relationship.
“I would at least have warned Boris.”
Marianne arched a perfect eyebrow. “He appears to be able to take care of himself.”
Her swan clucked. “You don’t know him.”
“He’s a lot larger than I thought he would be.”
“I told you he was a bear shifter.”
“And are the tattoos really necessary?”
“I think they’re very artistic. You like art, Mother.”
“Don’t be flippant. How old is he?”
Cecile felt her cheeks heat. “What does that matter?”
Marianne smiled gently. “So he is younger than you.”
“Only by five years, it’s nothing.”
“And I understand he has no family or money.”
Cecile clenched her fists together. “He doesn’t care about money. He cares about me. I love him and we’re having a baby!”
Marianne blinked at her. “Darling?”
“I’m sorry, I was waiting for the right time to tell you,” she stammered.
Her mother softened and hugged her. “Oh darling, I am pleased.”
“It’s still early days but we’re excited.”
“Is that why you chose him? His virility?”
“Mother! He’s so much more than…”
“I was joking, darling. I am sure we will become friends. At the very least for our little cygnet’s sake.”
Cecile coughed. “Or cub.”
“Why, yes, of course. Now let’s get back to the party. I wouldn’t want the father of my grandchild to be scared away by too many barbed put downs.”
The inner swan balked at the thought. “Oh, I don’t think he’d run away. I think his reaction would be a little more… pointed.” Like with pointy claws.
*
The bear curled his lip at the paltry offerings. Cucumber sandwiches? Who the fuck ate cucumber sandwiches? Cucumber was a garnish you put on the meat, but only in such a small amount that it didn’t detract from the taste of the meat and because your mate insisted you eat some vegetables. And they cut off the freaking crusts – they were the best damn bit!
He gave the skittish looking maid a doubtful look and she tried to smile reassuringly. “I could ask cook to make something else,” she whispered.
Yes – a roast beef sub the size of his arm would be welcome. His bear licked his lips at the thought. But no, it wasn’t a hotel. He wasn’t about to demand they wait on him.
“Nah, don’t worry about it.”
He scooped twelve sandwiches onto his plate. The maid did a kind of curtsy and moved on. He ignored the wide-eyed looks from Cecile’s cousin or something – he’d forgotten most of them already. In their pastel linen suits and dresses, they tended to blend into one drab forgettable bunch. The only one who stuck out was Edmund. Cecile had been infinitely unhappy when she saw him, and he wasn’t sure why. Ex maybe? Either way his bear was pissed and waiting impatiently for Cecile to return so he could grill her.
He smashed four sandwiches into his mouth and looked around the room. There were about twelve other people there for the party. Although this was unlike any party he’d ever known. There was a lot more bland food and a lot less booze.
Apart from a red panda shifter, the other guests were all swans. She was small and petite, but everyone else tended to be slim and fairly tall. They were mostly relatives but a few weren’t, like Edmund who was currently staring at him. The others flicked nervous glances at him – perhaps fearing he was there to rob them – but they didn’t let their gaze linger. Edmund was something else. Boris didn’t react to the stare, but he couldn’t help it as his eyes turned to black and his bear cracked his jaws.
“So, Boris, what do you do?” asked a silver haired man with a pleasant, open face.
“Security guard,” he rumbled.
The man smiled politely and Boris was reminded of Cecile. No matter what, she was always kind and feigned interest no matter how tedious the subject. They had gone to a retirement party for one of the other security guards last week – much more his kind of party. Old Wally had lectured Cecile five ways from sundown about keeping pigs and
not once had her attention wavered or did she look bored.
“Oh, where do you work?”
“SEA.”
“Ah, so you met my niece at work?”
Boris grunted. Right, he was Uncle Roderick or something. His bear bristled as Edmund got up and sauntered in their direction. Boris supposed he might be considered attractive in a pretty boy kind of way. He was dressed in a cream suit with a – fuck – paisley pocket square and matching tie. God, even Director Sanders – who in Boris’ opinion dressed like a pansy – drew the line at paisley. Boris’ eyes tracked him and he was pleased that the pristine swan flustered a little under the scrutiny.
Edmund slapped Roderick on the back. “Roddy, how’s the horse business?”
“Ed,” said Roderick, tightly, “very good. I train racehorses,” he explained to Boris. “Are you interested in horses?”
“Placed a few bets. Think I might have eaten one at a fancy French restaurant.”
Roderick guffawed as Edmund looked away in distaste.
“Boris, if you are interested, I’d be glad to show around my stables,” said Roderick. “Ed, I’m surprised to see you here. I understood it was a family party.”
“Technically I am family.” Boris didn’t fail to detect the look of annoyance that flashed over Roderick’s face but Edmund didn’t seem to notice.
“So, Boris,” started Edmund, “how long have you and Cissy been together?”
His jaw ticked at the nickname. His bear snorted. Cissy? Did she really like that?
“A while.”
Edmund waited for more, but Boris just glared at him - he sure as heck wasn’t going to get more.
The red panda shifter – Mindy, maybe – wandered over. “Hello Ed, I was sorry to hear about the divorce.” She smiled sweetly but there was a hint of malice behind it.
The male chuckled in return. “Yes but, divorces aren’t always bad things. Sometimes they just point you in the right direction, and they don’t always last forever.” He looked directly at Boris.
“Spoken like someone who’s had lots of practice,” murmured Mindy.
Boris sensed his mate before he saw her. The bear growled happily as she came into view, rushing to him, her cheeks slightly pink. He stood up and held out his hands to her, and she handed him an enormous meat-filled sandwich.