An Heiress For The Bear (Sarkozy Brothers 2)

by Meredith Clarke

  CONTENTS

  Title

  Copyright

  1. Kat

  2. Lukas

  3. Kat

  4. Lukas

  5. Kat

  6. Lukas

  7. Kat

  8. Lukas

  9. Kat

  10. Lukas

  11. Kat

  12. Lukas

  13. Kat

  14. Lukas

  15. Kat

  16. Kat

  17. Kat

  18. Lukas

  19. Kat

  20. Lukas

  21. Kat

  22. Lukas

  23. Kat

  24. Lukas

  25. Kat

  26. Lukas

  27. Kat

  28. Lukas

  29. Kat

  30. Lukas

  31. Kat

  SHAREBEAR Newsletter

  About the Author

  An HEIRESS

  for the BEAR

  (SARKOZY Brothers #2)

  MEREDITH CLARKE

  &

  PIA MILAN

  An Heiress for the Bear (Sarkozy Brothers #2)

  Published By Pia Milan

  Copyright © 2015 Pia Milan

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places or events are entirely the work of the author. Any resemblance to actual persons, events, or places is entirely coincidental.

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. Please purchase only authorized editions and do not participate in piracy of copyrighted materials.

  Cover art by MH Silver

  1. KAT

  KATRIONA BRANDON SLAMMED THE SMALL box down onto the counter so hard that she winced as her wrist twinged from the impact.

  "Kat?" Carson shuffled into the kitchen, pushing her unruly black hair from her face. "What's wrong?" Her voice was husky from sleep.

  Kat's heart-broken friend Carson Grant had been doing way too much sleeping since her return from the Klamath Mountains. Breakups sucked all round, even for the people watching from the sideline.

  Kat felt a ripple of guilt run through her. As yet, she hadn't revealed to Carson that Aleksander & Lukas Pro Bono were actually Aleksander and Lukas Sarkozy Pro Bono.

  She'd encouraged Carson to pursue a relationship with Marek, thinking he'd be good for her, but as it turned out, Sarkozy men weren't to be trusted.

  "Sorry." Kat winced and gave her friend a rueful smile. "I'm sorry I woke you."

  "Well, I'm awake now. So spill," Carson grumbled as she padded to the kitchen in her fluffy bed slippers to pour coffee into her silly mug. The misshapen mug bore the wise words of "Keep Calm and Sing a Song," and it looked like Carson had begun to take that very advice.

  Carson slid the decanter back into the coffee machine and glared at Kat, rapping her nails over the countertop.

  "Okay, Miss Grumpy Pants." Kat lifted a finger and shoved the rectangular black box towards her.

  Kat retracted the finger and used it to tuck a lock of her silky red hair behind her ear. Unlike Carson's clear complexion, Kat had been cursed with freckles, and only a good dousing of concealer hid the spots from the world. Her crowning feature, according to her step-mother Brianna, was her pale, silvery-blue eye color, which had been a sore point in itself, given that she'd inherited those gorgeous silvers from her late mother.

  Kat's mother Rachel Brandon had come from money. More money than her father H. Carter, Jr. and his entire family could dream of. Kat had known that one day her mother's fortune would come to her and her brother Wolf, and now, she watched as Carson caught the velvet box just before it skidded off the edge.

  "Geez, woman. It says freaking Tiffany's on the box and you treat it like that?"

  Kat rolled her eyes. "It's worse than Tiffany's. Trust me." She waited as Carson set her mug down and lifted the lid off the box. Carson's dark head remained bowed as she paused and stared down at the folded piece of paper. It fit perfectly, folded neatly in half, the crease smooth and tight, as if someone had run their fingernail along the folded edge.

  "It's not from Tiffany's. That's just a box he used to keep it in." Kat's fingers tightened into fists.

  Carson glanced up, her bright blue eyes wide. She pointed a finger at the letterhead. "Is that gold?" she asked, her voice less husky, more aware now that she sensed something big was about to be revealed.

  When Kat didn't answer, Carson reluctantly lifted the letter and flicked it open. Her eyes moved left to right, speeding through the missive before she set it down carefully and took a step away, as if it was entirely capable of springing up and chomping on her with very sharp teeth.

  Kat had felt the same way when she'd read that damned letter.

  Carson let out a breath. "Holy shit."

  "Yup."

  "Do you know what this means?" Carson's voice hit a pitch that was a little too high.

  "Yup."

  "You're a bajillionaire."

  "Yup."

  Carson narrowed her eyes at Kat. "Can't you manage more than just 'Yup'?"

  Kat ignored the question and waved a hand at the box. "There's more."

  Carson moved gingerly to the box and lifted the navy blue silk fabric to reveal the object beneath.

  "Holy shit." Carson struggled to shift her gaze from the box to Kat's face. "Do you know what that is?"

  "Yup."

  Carson let out a breath and stepped closer only long enough to grab her mug off the counter. After a sip, and an extended length of silence, she said, "What are you planning to do?"

  Kat sighed and reached for the box, pulling it closer. "This was part of my great grandmother Katerina's dowry. She was a Prussian princess, and this was a family heirloom." Kat gave a soft sigh and lifted the necklace of diamonds from its silk bed. She held it up to the light, watching the morning sunshine sparkle within the facets of the multitude of jewels. "Every single individual diamond on this is worth more than ten thousand dollars. Altogether, this piece could sell for eight, maybe ten million dollars."

  Her voice had shifted to a lower volume, her last words petering away into silence.

  "Why did he give it to you?" asked Carson, only now brave enough to move closer to study the choker.

  Kat shook her head. "I'm the oldest granddaughter. It was my great-grandmother's wish that the necklace pass down through the women of the family. Since my mother died, he's held it for safe-keeping until I came of age."

  "I think your age pretty much came and went." Carson lifted an eyebrow, her mind so focused on the necklace and Kat's new status as a bajillionaire that she'd forgotten her heart troubles.

  Kat smiled. "I refused to take it. There were too many strings attached to it. But he did tell say I'd never be able to hide from my heritage." Kat sighed and laid the necklace back onto the satin. "He's just proved to me that he's right."

  "He's dead, Kat. He's got no hold over you any longer."

  Kat pursed her lips. "He does. I've inherited most of his money, Carson. He... It's so out of character that it frightens me."

  Carson was pale. She'd read the letter too, and as Kat stared at the gold lettering, with its twenty-four-carat gold-embossed family stationery, she felt the chains begin to wind themselves around her again.

  "I swore I'd have nothing to do with their money."

  "It's now your money."

  "I don't w
ant it."

  "Not like you can give it back to him." Carson sipped her coffee primly, as if the sight of the necklace had stolen her ability to slurp.

  Kat lifted a shoulder. "He gave eighty percent of his wealth to the one grandchild who didn't want it. Franklin and Regina may want a share."

  Her cousins were both money-hungry users. She was in for trouble from the two of them.

  Carson snorted. "You've told me enough about them for me to know they won't leave this alone. So what are you going to do?"

  Kat sucked in a breath. "Well, they don't know where I am. I never told them where I worked. Only old Constantine. And he won't tell a soul."

  "That's not even funny." Carson glared at her, then took a slow sip of her coffee. "You heard of the internet? They can Google you, woman. And what about that brother of yours?"

  Letting out a ragged laugh, Kat said, "Wolf won't tell. He hates them as much as I do. And he got most of the remaining twenty percent too. So his ass is also on the line."

  "Where is he right now?"

  "Climbing Everest, I think." At that moment, Wolfgang Brandon-Carter was probably hanging off an icy precipice, daring death to take him.

  "Does anyone in your family do anything by halves?"

  "Apparently not," said Kat, staring at the shimmering diamonds.

  "So, you have all this money. What are you going to do with it?" Carson was watching her, probably waiting to see if Kat was going to go into hysterics.

  But Kat smiled. "I'll have to think about it. But whatever it is, it will be something that the late Constantine Brandon would abhor."

  2. LUKAS

  LUKAS SARKOZY SET HIS MOBILE phone on his desk and stared off into space. His mind had been so focused on his cousin Marek's near miss with The Legion that he'd paid little attention to the developments within the company.

  Offering free legal representation was one thing, providing additional support to the abused women who came to them was another thing entirely. They needed money to run their operation, and it seemed that their comfortable ride was well and truly over.

  "Everything is prepared for Friday night. I've sent out all the invitations and we've already received almost ninety percent acceptance." Alana Franc was pacing the wood floor, arms folded, tapping one manicured finger on her arm. Her dark beauty was startling, and he'd often wondered why he'd never found her attractive. A distant cousin, and a bear shifter too, Alana knew as well as Lukas that their family line was dying out.

  She'd made it clear that their legal relationship could be more if he wanted it.

  He hadn't.

  Right now, she was glaring at him, waiting for an answer.

  He sighed and got to his feet. "Let's hope this event will snag us a few new benefactors."

  Through the door, he could see his trio of lawyers, busy working on their next trials. There were three this week, from what he knew, and he'd landed Kat Brandon as his assistant on the Hernandez case.

  Kat, with her long-legged curvy frame and startlingly red hair, had joined them six months ago, and he was supremely glad that he'd been spending much of his time out of the office since she'd walked into Aleksander & Lukas Pro Bono.

  Her stunning silvery eyes had caught his attention the first day she'd arrived, and Lukas had marveled at the fact the Alana had actually employed a woman who outshone her in the beauty department.

  But they'd been desperate, and beggars weren't choosers according to Alana. Alana's cold, superior attitude toward Kat made a lot of sense. But Kat was passionate about every case, yet distant and cool.

  Which had been all well and good while he'd been busy with Delta Ops, and Marek and the fucking Legion who were shadowing them constantly. Just a few weeks ago, they'd shot at Marek, at close range no less. The organization had stepped up their efforts to take another one of his brothers, and the Sarkozys were making every effort to ensure that didn't happen.

  Despite those efforts, Marek had been shot again, this time on their private land in Klamath, and this time, they'd downed Marek with a more potent poison, putting one of the strongest bears in their clan flat on his back for weeks. Lukas was still waiting for the lab to call him with the results of the test.

  Alana snorted, cutting into his thoughts. "You say that like it's as easy as going down to the 7-Eleven." She threw herself onto the small sofa that sat against the wall beside the open door.

  Outside his office, Kat was sitting very still, her head shifting slightly in the direction of Lukas's door. He frowned.

  Eavesdropping now, are we?

  He cleared his throat. "It can't be that hard. You've chosen a good few wealthy patrons. And asking them to recommend their friends was good idea. We managed to find our current donors easily enough."

  Alana shot to her feet, her blue eyes flashing. "That was because your grandfather knows enough people. But both Roger Gardner and Mark Phillips confirmed they're putting their money into other causes as of next year." Despite her frustration, not a hair moved out of place from her pin-straight shoulder-length hair.

  Lukas said nothing. He'd taken over from his grandfather Aleksander Sarkozy, who'd run the place for decades. Lukas had joined fresh out of law school, and got his name added on to the old man's, an honor he'd not expected.

  But he'd done enough door-knocking of his own to acquire a handful of donors that had stuck with them over the last couple years. If he had to do it again, he'd start knocking today.

  Alana smoothed down the front of her skirt. Her suit, though severe, hugged the limited curves on her body. For a bear shifter, she certainly lacked in the curves department. "I have work to do."

  She stalked to the door and almost bumped into Kat, who'd come to stand at the threshold without either of them realizing.

  "Don't you have something to do?" Alana snapped.

  Lukas caught the tiny rise of Kat's eyebrow before she halted its movement. Interesting.

  Kat cleared her throat. "I heard you mention that you were looking for donors for the practice?"

  "What's it to you?" asked Alana, planting herself in front of the girl.

  Lukas tried to control his irritation as he said, "Alana, let her in. If she wants to say something, she's entitled to. Freedom of speech, right?"

  As Alana turned to glare at him, something clicked into place. Now he knew why he'd never entertained Alana as a possible life partner. Not that he was looking, but even in the women he did date, however casually, he appreciated a little more than a pretense of kindness.

  Alana huffed and stepped aside, glaring at Lukas as Kat glided past her and stopped in front of him. Her glasses tried and failed to hide her beautiful pale blue almond shaped eyes, failed to disguise the straight, patrician nose. He'd seen past her walls the first time he'd set eyes on her.

  He'd been drawn to her even then, but she'd thrown up walls higher and stronger than her silly glasses, and he'd been forced to observe her from a distance. It had helped that he'd spent all of two weeks on site since her hire.

  Today she stood not a few inches from him, and he felt a sizzle of heat run through him.

  Something of his feelings must have reflected in his expression because her eyes widened in alarm.

  "We don't have all morning, Miss Brandon." He kept his voice cool, which seemed to fluster her.

  She cleared her throat.

  "I can get you the money."

  3. KAT

  WHAT THE HELL HAD SHE been thinking?

  Kat swallowed, unable to believe how far her stupid feet had taken her before her brain engaged. She was standing in front of Lukas, so close that she could see the golden flecks in his green eyes, could smell the spicy cologne that he always wore.

  She shouldn't be anywhere near him if she knew what was good for her. The few times she'd seen him in the last six months had made a sizable impact on her libido. The man was sizzling, all broad shoulders and muscles that tempted her to caress them.

  Shut up. He's a Sarkozy, which means
he can't be trusted.

  Her heart was racing, and she clenched her fingers tightly.

  You're a lawyer, for God's sake. Why do you suddenly suck at stating your case?

  The way he'd spoken just now, that cool tone, had made her want to turn and walk away. She was used to that behavior from Alana, but she'd accepted it. Most women tried not to see Kat when she was in the room. She was the type who rubbed other women the wrong way, threatened them to such an extent that ignoring her was the only thing that made them feel comfortable.

  But right now, it was Lukas Sarkozy who watched her with that cool, emotionally blank expression, the light from the window glinting off his honey brown hair. She swallowed and nodded.

  "I mean I can get you a donor."

  He raised his eyebrows. "You can?" Lukas's voice had dropped, now low and almost husky.

  "Yes." Kat straightened her spine, aware Alana was standing behind her, silently watching as Lukas made fun of her. But she probably deserved it because this whole idea was insane.

  "And who is this donor?"

  Her heart thudded in her chest. Why had she spoken without thinking this through? This was what happened when she spoke without using her brain. What brain? Staring into Lukas's eyes, her brain seemed to go on the fritz.

  She forced herself to focus. "Anonymous." She whispered the word, glad that she'd managed to save herself in time.

  "An anonymous donor?" Lukas frowned.

  Kat nodded. "The donor wouldn't want me to divulge... their identity." Then she paused. "You don't really need to know, do you?"

  Lukas shook his head, although his eyes remained trained on her face. "No. We do receive anonymous donations every so often. It's just that it's not common for donors to hide. People usually like the publicity."

  Kat shook her head, suppressing a shiver as Lukas's eyes drifted to her lips. Was the man deliberately trying to push her off track?

  Why the hell is he looking at my lips?

  She blinked. "The donor doesn't need accolades."

  Lukas sat on the edge of his desk and folded his arms, the fabric stretching across his broad chest, revealing his defined pecs.