Midnight in Monaco: A Billionaire Romance

by Raina Wilde

  The rest of the house was furnished in mostly new, but some well-worn old, pieces, and one of the two small bedrooms upstairs was converted into an office. The first night she spent in the finished house after checking out of the hotel was wonderful. She had never felt so settled. She made an elaborate ravioli dinner, rolling the pasta out, then cutting circles with the rim of a glass. Then she carefully scooped spoonfuls of mushrooms and cheese into the dough and slipped them into the pan to cook. She plated them with a side salad and brought a bottle of wine into the living room, where she curled up on the couch to watch television.

  The next morning, on a whim, she pulled into Shane's driveway again. His house was dark, and the lawn looked like it hadn't been mowed in weeks. The grass was tall and weedy, and fallen pine needles littered the gravel paths. There was a single light on over the garage, but otherwise the place looked abandoned. Evita got out of her car and approached the house carefully. She felt on edge, and a little like she was trespassing, but she took the stairs up to the front door anyway. She tried the doorknob and found that the house was unlocked. She stepped inside timidly, and called Shane's name a few times. The house was silent except for the hum of the kitchen appliances and the tick of a clock on the wall. She pulled her phone out of her pocket and dialled Shane's phone number. She heard the faint sound of a phone ringing and followed it. Through a set of sliding glass doors that led out to a wooden deck on the back of the house, Evita could see a pile of clothes left on a table. There were several leaves on top of them, and they looked damp. She opened the sliding glass door, which was unlocked too, and stepped onto the back deck. Shane's clothes had been folded and left on the table, and his boots were under it, his socks balled up and shoved inside. She stepped forward and dug through the clothes until she found his phone and wallet. The phone battery was almost dead, and he had 5 missed calls. She felt like she was intruding but scanned through the calls anyway. The earliest one was from almost a week ago. A knot of anxiety curled in her stomach. His phone, a simple pay-as-you-go burner you could buy at any gas station, hadn't been touched in a week.

  She took his clothes and boots inside and left a note asking Shane to call her if and when he got home, and that she was worried. She left the note on top of the clothes and then went back to her car. Nothing in the house or outside looked amiss. Shane was simply gone. While she backed out of the driveway she dialled the local police and reported him missing. They submitted a missing person's report, but after a few days when Evita called to ask how the investigation was going, they said there were no leads and it wasn't a high priority case.

  She sat at her desk after hanging up from the police with her head cradled in her palms. She checked her phone for the hundredth time that day, hoping that maybe he had sent her a text or a call. The bell above the door rang and she looked up. It was the biologist from a few weeks ago.

  "Hi," he said, stepping up to the counter.

  "Hi," Evita replied, standing up. "How's your dog?"

  "He's doing much better, thanks. At home for a couple months. I'm training a new puppy today," he said, pointing out the door to a puppy sitting on the front seat of a green pick-up truck. The puppy jumped, barked and wagged its tail at the attention.

  "He's cute," Evita said.

  "Thanks. I was wondering if you could insert an ID chip into him," he said, leaning over the counter.

  "Yeah, of course," Evita answered. She handed him the paperwork to fill out.

  "I don't think I properly introduced myself last time I came in," he said. He leaned further over the counter. Evita could feel him studying her.

  "No, I don't think you did," she replied.

  "I'm Isaac," he said, holding out his hand for her to shake. She took it and he rubbed his thumb across her knuckles. He was attractive, in an academic sort of way—the way she sometimes thought her professors were attractive. He was a little disheveled and wore glasses. Evita smiled at him and pulled her hand away. She knew there was nothing really going on between her and Shane, but somehow the idea of flirting with another man made her feel guilty.

  "Why don't we go get that little guy from your truck?" she asked. He smiled politely and gestured for her to lead the way.

  #

  That evening Evita made herself an elaborate dinner of salmon en croute with twice roasted potatoes and a salad. She even made dessert, something she tried not to do very often, but tonight she was going to treat herself to a cherry cobbler and ice cream. She had been working non-stop lately, and deserved a treat.

  She queued up a few podcasts on her phone and flipped on her bluetooth speakers. She preferred listening to the radio to eating in front of the tv, but living so far out in the woods meant her choice of radio stations was limited.

  While washing up her dinner dishes she heard what sounded like a roar from outside. She froze, turned the water off, and turned off the speaker. The house was silent except for the ticking of the pipes. After a few seconds she heard the noise again, this time quieter. It sounded like it was coming from near the front door. Evita clutched her phone and snapped the outside lights on. She peered out the window and what she saw made her gasp. Shane was lying near the front steps. He was face-down and covered in blood. She unlocked the door and rushed out to him. He was breathing, but unconscious, and she wasn't sure she would be able to lift him into the house.

  "Shane!" she exclaimed. "Shane wake up!" When he didn't answer she pulled out her phone and dialled 911. Just as she was about to speak to the operator Shane lifted his hand and took the phone from her. He hung it up just as the operator was answering.

  "Shane," Evita cried, "you need to go to the hospital. You've been shot," she checked his vitals, and although he was pale his heartbeat was strong.

  "Bring me inside," he said. He stood up, shakily but at least he was walking.

  "Come downstairs," she said, and led him to the basement door. "Do you think you can walk down the stairs?"

  "I'll either walk or fall," he said with a laugh. Evita wasn't in the mood to joke, and just helped him manoeuvre down the steps.

  She got him to the table and helped him onto it. He was too tall to fit on it properly, and she had to pull the table she kept her surgical tools on so she could prop up his feet.

  "You need to turn on your side," she said. He was dripping blood on the floor and she was afraid he would need a transfusion. He turned and she inspected the wound.

  "Shane, you've been shot!" she cried when she cleaned the blood and dirt away and could clearly see the bullet hole.

  Shane laughed, "I've been shot twice," he rumbled.

  "What?" Evita said.

  "Once with a bullet, once with a tracker," he said. His voice was growing weaker, and before Evita could answer his breathing changed and he slipped into unconsciousness once again. She cleaned his whole back and saw he did have another wound on the other shoulder, although that one wasn't as bad. She pulled the bullet fragments from him, slowly and carefully. She had taken bullets from dogs on a few occasions, but never a person. When the fragments were out she stitched and bandaged him, and then went to work on the other side. Shane had been right, there was a tracker in his other shoulder. It was about the size of an over-the-counter pain medication capsule, and as she rinsed it and held it under the microscope she saw it had the insignia of the university printed on it along with a serial number. Beneath that were the words ursus americanus, the latin classification for bear.

  #

  Shane slept for almost five hours, and it was well past midnight when he finally woke up. Evita brought him some water and, when he said he felt strong enough, some food. She couldn't help but think that he recovered faster than anyone she had ever seen. Normally a gunshot wound like that would keep someone down for at least a day, and they would be sore for several weeks after until the muscle had a chance to heal itself. But Shane seemed to be up and ready to go just a few hours after surgery. His color was better, and after he ate he managed to stand up and wal
k upstairs.

  "What happened?" Evita finally asked after she made him some tea and they were sitting on the couch.

  "It's a long story and you wouldn't believe me," he answered.

  "Try me," she replied.

  "I'm a shifter," he said.

  "A what?" Evita asked.

  "A shifter. I shift from human to bear. I can always shift when I want to, but sometimes it happens when I don't want it to. Especially when there are... disturbances nearby," he said.

  Evita laughed, "What kind of disturbances?"

  Shane shrugged, "Something as simple as a pack of coyotes passing through. Loggers on my land have done it..." he said, "hunting season," he laughed ruefully. Then he looked her in the eye and said, "A beautiful woman I want as my mate."

  Evita set her cup of tea down. For some reason this made her angry.

  "Are you hitting on me?" she asked, but there was an edge to her voice.

  "It's a little too late for that," Shane replied with a laugh. Now Evita was seething.

  "If you're well enough to sit here with me in my living room, I think you're well enough to leave," she said and stood up. Shane stood up and walked after her, a little wobbly at first but after a few steps he found his strength.

  "You don't believe me?" he asked.

  Evita balked at him. "Of course I don't believe you, it's ridiculous."

  Shane sighed and ran his fingers through his hair.

  "Can you go into your bedroom?" he asked.

  Evita's mouth dropped open. "To do what?" she demanded, her hand on her hip.

  "Watch me through the window," he said, and he walked toward the front door.

  Evita, against her better judgement, went into her bedroom and sat on her bed. After a few seconds she watched Shane walk around the side of the house and stand a few feet from the windows. Suddenly his shoulders began to broaden and he dropped to his knees as if in pain, and Evita gasped. She was about to bolt out the door to help him when she saw his hands transform themselves. His palms blackened and extended, his fingernails sharpened to points, and a mass of fur suddenly spread over his skin like a rash, sprouting and splitting the surrounding skin. His face was still human, but barely, and Evita watched in part horror and part fascination as it morphed into the face of a bear. He roared in pain and power, now completely bear, his pants ripped and bloody, left on the ground. The bear sat back on his haunches and licked at its fur. Then it stood on its hind legs and waved its paws at Evita in a friendly and comical way. She laughed nervously, covering her mouth.

  Suddenly, headlights swooped into the yard, illuminating Shane, who was now a bear. Evita watched as Isaac, the bear biologist, leaned out of the truck window and fired a shot at Shane.

  "No!" she screamed, running for the door. She heard another gunshot and started to cry. Then she heard the bray of dogs and she knew that Isaac had released a pack of hunting dogs eager to hunt Shane down and tear him limb from limb.

  Evita grabbed a tranquilliser and her own handgun from the locked cabinet in the basement operating room. She loved animals but was under no delusions about the power they had when they were scared and injured. She still bore the scars on her arm where a dog with a broken leg had lashed out at her. The gun was just for precautions. Just incase. But she needed it now.

  When she got back outside the pick-up truck had taken off down the road, but she still heard the bray of dogs in the distance. She hoped Shane had found somewhere to hide, but before she worried about him she needed to get Issac off his trail. Clutched in her hand was the tracker she took out of Shane's shoulder. She knew she was as much a target of Isaac's wrath as Shane, because right then she looked like a tagged bear on any equipment Isaac had in his truck.

  Evita spent the next four hours hiking through the woods, occasionally hearing the far off bark of dogs, but she was unsure if they were Isaac's dogs or if she was so far into the woods that she had crossed into a different town, about to pop out into someone’s backyard.

  Finally she saw what she knows is a bear den. She kicked debris at it, hoping there was a bear inside that would come out. A thought crossed her mind that perhaps all bears were really humans. And maybe a lot of humans were infact bears. The thought made her shiver. Finally she heard a snuffling from the den entrance and a medium sized black bear emerged. She aimed her tranquilliser and shot at it. It roared back in anger, and then turned tail and ran. She spent the next 20 minutes tracking it, and when she found it it was fast asleep.

  "I'm so sorry," she whispered to the bear as she cut a small incision into the shoulder. She didn’t know what kind of wrath this bear would face from Isaac, but at least it would buy Shane some time. She sewed the tracker into the bear, and then took the tranquilliser dart out of it's shoulder.

  She hiked back to her house, the forest silent, and Evita exhausted. She collapsed on the couch when she was inside and fell asleep with her boots on. She woke several hours later and heard a noise on the front steps. She looked outside and didn’t see anyone, but there was a hand carved wooden bear sitting on the steps. She lifted it up and found that it was a piggy bank with a note inside.

  The note was from Shane. Inside, he confessed that he loved her, and that nothing could keep them apart. But he needed to get out of town for a while. Tears sprang to her eyes as she read it. Shane had gone to Canada for a few months, and he told her to do everything she could to get Isaac out of town. She sat on the front steps and cried into her hands, both from relief and from sadness that Shane had left town.

  Finally she lifted herself up, took a hot shower, made a pot of coffee and started cultivating her plan for getting Isaac out of the picture, and getting Shane back in her life.

  #

  A few months later she was in Quebec hiking up a mountainous trail. Three days earlier she had received a postcard from Shane. It didn't say where he was, but she recognised the view. The only time she had been on the east coast growing up was a trip to Quebec. Her French class spent all year fundraising to take it, and they had spent two days in Quebec City and a day hiking La Mauricie National Park. Now she was three hours into a hike along the Deux-Criques trail, one of the most demanding, and picturesque, in the park. But it was the only clue she had to where Shane could be.

  Finally she reached the first lookout point and stopped to rest. It was late in the season, and this far north it could start snowing at any time. She had a feeling Shane might be doing what all bears do in the winter, hiding somewhere and hibernating. She just hoped that she could find him in time, although she wasn't sure exactly how.

  She started hiking again; the days were short now and she had to keep moving to make progress before dark. There weren't many other hikers on the trail, and she hoped that if she had any chance of seeing Shane, it would be now, when the trail was empty and the tourists had dwindled for the season. She had spent the past few months thinking about Shane and getting lost in her work. Isaac had disappeared from town, and any attempt she made at contacting him at the university was met with stony silent professionalism. They weren't at liberty to say where he was, just that he no longer worked for them.

  When she got to the second lookout point the sun was even lower in the sky. She worried about being out on the trail late at night. She was only halfway along, and didn't like the idea of spending the night in a tent. Far off in the distance the sound of coyotes echoed off the mountains. She shivered. Usually coyotes only called at night, unless they were desperately hungry. She began walking again, and after she heard the coyote call twice more she realised they were getting closer. A knot of dread grew in her stomach. If she had been back in Maine she would have had a gun with her, but out here, in this foreign country, she only had her flashlight and a club.

  After a half hour the trail descended into a heavily forested area. The path was littered with pine needles and they were soft under her feet. However they silenced any noise she had been making before, and the thick forest around her was eerily quiet. She quickened
her pace, eager to get out of the darkness of the forest. Then she heard the snap of a twig to her right. She stopped, heartbeat pounding in her ears, and strained her eyes to look through the trees. She couldn't see anything. Evita pulled the flashlight from an exterior pocket of her pack and shined it into the trees. On her second sweep the light caught on two glowing yellow eyes. And then two more to the left. She heard a low throaty growl behind her. She turned to see two more coyotes emerging from the trees. Their lips were drawn back in a snarl and they were hunched low to the ground. She knew if she tried to run they would catch her easily, being known to sprint over 40 miles per hour, and leaping 13 feet. Usain Bolt on his best days could only run 28 miles per hour, and Evita knew she was no Usain Bolt. She closed her eyes and, for one of the only times in her life, prayed. She prayed that either something or someone would interrupt what was happening—or for the coyotes to make her death quick and painless. The more logical part of her brain knew both of those things were unlikely to happen. Fear began to build inside her.

  Then, from the forest stretching out in front of her came a crashing sound. She was frozen in fear, thinking it was the rest of the pack. However a long low growl made the four coyotes surrounding her start to back away. Their snarls gave way to whimpers, and all but one of them fled to the cover of the trees. Evita watched as an enormous black bear emerged from the trees. One coyote stood its ground, growling and snapping at the bear. They circled each other, with Evita in the centre. She stood, frozen in fear, watching the animals eye each other, ready for a fight.