Zeke kissed Molly on the cheek.
“I’ll call you later?” he asked.
“Sure, sweetie.” Molly said.
Zeke headed for the door, then stopped and turned back to Sierra.
“You’re not gonna tell Joe about this, right?”
“I don’t think so. No.” Sierra said.
Zeke smiled with relief and scrambled out the door.
“He’s a little young for you, isn’t he?” Sierra said to Molly.
Molly stretched out of the couch.
“He is.” She agreed with a smile. “He’s young, and energetic, and very eager to please.”
She sighed in a self-satisfied way and sipped her wine. Sierra rolled her eyes.
“Well, I think he’s also in love with you. Be gentle with him, ok?”
“Noted.”
Sierra returned the potted cactus to the corner and kicked off her shoes.
“I saw you on the news. Along with the cute, fluffy puppy.” Molly said.
Yeah, Joe thought I should be there for the adoption.” Sierra said.
She walked into the kitchen to pour herself some wine.
“I thought you said he already got a dog. Not was getting a dog.” Molly said.
Sierra froze with her back to Molly, wine bottle in hand. She had rather hoped Molly would overlook that slight continuity issue.
“He had got a dog already. It just took a few days to organize the press conference. He didn’t want to announce it until then.”
“Oh.” Molly said.
There was something in her tone Sierra didn’t like.
“What?” she asked her.
“Nothing.” Molly didn’t sound the least bit convincing. “Just seems like an odd choice. Hiding a dog for a week. It can’t take that long to call some reporters.”
“Well…you know…politics….” Sierra said. She grasped frantically for a change of subject. She settled on looking over the half-finished painting propped up on the easel.
“So…” she said finally, “Why’d you paint him blue?”
*
“Have you seen him yet?” Kelly asked.
Sierra was pouring cream into her “No Coffee No Workie” mug in the break room at The Post. She’d had yet another night of nightmare-plagued sleep and really needed the caffeine boost.. At least this time she hadn’t woken up with claws.
Kelly was helping herself to a yogurt cup from the refrigerator.
“Seen who?” Sierra asked.
“The new owner.” Kelly said.
The office had been buzzing for days about the new majority shareholder, Dorrian Taylor. He was some rich guy from New York, who apparently just got it in his head last week that he’d like to own a newspaper.
“He’s here?” Sierra asked.
Kelly nodded.
“I guess he wanted to see what all his money bought him,” Sierra . “So you haven’t seen him yet?”
“No. Why? Does he have a really bad comb-over or something?”
Kelly gave her a knowing look.
“Just wait till you see him.” She said, grinning.
Sierra returned to her desk, coffee in hand. Joe had gotten her yet another new desk. This one was a black maple with silver hardware. She kept a picture of her and Joe at his cabin in Sleuth in one corner. The silver frame perfectly matched the desk. The surface was a mess of post it notes and crumpled paper.
She was working on a story on the mayor’s mistress; a much younger staffer and BDSM practitioner. Sierra almost had the girl convinced she should sign the photo release. She picked up the phone to call her. Maybe she could take her out to lunch again. Some place expensive, with a lot of wine.
“Well you’re as breathtaking in person as you are in your photograph.” A man’s voice said from behind her.
Sierra wheeled her chair around. The man held out his hand to her.
“Dorrian Taylor,” he introduced himself. “It is a pleasure to meet you, Sierra.”
Sierra immediately understood why he had made such an impression on Kelly. He was young to be so successful, maybe early thirties, and knock down gorgeous. He had the most piercing blue eyes Sierra had ever seen. They were the color of the sky at midday in the springtime. He kept his golden blond hair neatly trimmed and styled. The orderly
hairstyle went well with his custom tailored suit. The fit of it nicely accentuated his thin, muscular frame.
Sierra found herself momentarily speechless. Finally, she managed to choke out, “You’ve seen my picture?”
“Sierra, darling, the entire office has seen your picture.” He indicated the nearby framed photograph on the wall.
It was the picture of her being attacked by Eric. The one that brought her first front page byline.
“Right.” Sierra was embarrassed.
“Not to mention you’re sleeping with the Washington State Governor and that makes the press ever so fond of snapping your picture. I’m certain everyone is quite familiar with your visage at this point. And yet, I maintain that all those photographs fail to do you justice.”
“Th-Thank you.”
“I’d like to take you to lunch. Does one o’clock work for you?”
“Ummm…” Sierra seemed to have temporarily forgotten how to make words. “Is this a work related lunch?”
“Whatever else would it be?” he asked.
He said it was work related, but the way he smiled at her said anything but. She didn’t really like the way his eyes seemed to drill into her, either. Still, you didn’t exactly turn down a work lunch with the owner of the paper.
“One is fine.”
“Perfect.” He flashed her another million-dollar smile and walked away.
Sierra turned back to her computer, still feeling like his eyes were on her.
Kelly shot her a knowing look from across the room. Couldn’t he go hit on Kelly instead? Kelly, who, unlike Sierra, was not in a loving, committed relationship with a man who could, quite literally, rip Dorrian’s head off should he feel sufficiently compelled to do so?
Sierra stared at the picture on her desk and wondered what Joe would think about this “working lunch”.
After some consideration, she decided it would be fine. She could handle herself. Having a gorgeous stranger shower her with compliments was not the end of the world. If things really got really out of hand, she could always nail his ass for sexual harassment.
Or, she thought with a smile, she could always rip his head off herself.
She turned to her phone, intending to call the Mayor’s office, then paused. She looked over her shoulder. Dorrian was stepping into the editor’s office, not likely to sneak up on her again. It couldn’t hurt to do a little digging on her lunch date.
She opened up her web browser and queried “Dorrian Taylor”.
Dorrian was old money. Very old money. His great great grandfather was a railroad tycoon. Tristen Taylor had died young at age thirty-eight from TB, leaving his considerable fortune to his estranged son, Cyrus. Each subsequent generation of Taylor men had gown the family fortune to its now considerable sum.
Dorrian Taylor was worth billions. He’d made a name for himself in corporate takeovers, ruthlessly buying out companies and then restructuring them as he saw fit. Sierra was rapidly getting the impression that this was a man who liked to own things. And to be in charge, at least for a while. He would actually manage most of the companies he purchased for a few years. Then he would put someone else in charge and move on to his next acquisition.
Birth records showed that he had a 12-year-old son who lived with his mother in Greece. He wasn’t married, or, as best as she could tell, dating anyone. That basically made him the most eligible bachelor in the United States. He’d even been approached about doing one of those trashy harem reality shows last year, but had turned them down.
Sierra hurriedly closed her browser as Dorrian stepped back out of the office. He flashed her another smile as he glided by her desk.
S
ierra cursed herself for staring at his perfectly sculpted ass as he walked away. She was going to have to be careful about this man.
CHAPTER 11
Dorrian chose the place for lunch. It was a little café that specialized in gourmet cheeses and wine. It was the kind of pretentious foodie place that Joe would hate, but Dorrian was perfectly at ease there. He ordered them a bottle of French wine and a platter of assorted cheeses with figs, marionberries, and a crusty, fresh baked baguette.
“Tell me something, Sierra,” he said as he spread rosemary chevre on a piece of bread. “You seem like a sophisticated, metropolitan woman. Am I right?”
“I suppose so,” Sierra replied cautiously.
“I’m curious about your relationship with Governor Joe. A man whose reputation is built on his appeal to the rough and tumble, everyman demographic. He hunts and camps and gets his hands dirty. What on earth do you have in common?”
Sierra sipped her wine and considered the question. It was true that on the surface they didn’t seem to have a lot of common interests. Sierra wasn’t much for going camping and Joe didn’t exactly spend a lot of time in galleries and museums.
But what he didn’t understand was how liberating spending time with Joe was for her. With him, she felt like she could relax, let her hair down. She put so much pressure on herself every day to succeed that sometimes she felt as if she would burst from it. When she was with Joe, there was no pressure anymore.
“That doesn’t sound like a work related question.” She replied coolly.
“Oh, it absolutely isn’t.” he replied. “I’m curious, that’s all. As attractive as you are, surely you have your pick of men to choose from. And while dating the Governor surely has its advantages, wouldn’t you rather spend your time with someone who knows how to order wine in a nice restaurant?”
“Well,” Sierra said, “as it turns out, I am perfectly capable of ordering my own wine. I don’t enjoy being kept as much as you seem to think I do. Now did you plan on bringing up a work-related topic any time soon? Or are you just here to flirt and insult my life choices?”
Dorrian was obviously taken aback. Perhaps he was unused to women talking back to him. Anger flashed in his blue eyes and he took a few moments to compose himself before replying.
“Work. Yes. I brought you here to discuss business.”
“Then let’s discuss business.” Sierra replied. “What are you planning to do with The Post?”
Dorrian didn’t answer. He sipped his wine and chose another piece of fruit. He ate the fig slowly, never taking his intense gaze off her. “Do you know what kind of man I am, Sierra? What sort of business it is that I do?” he asked.
“You buy things.”
“I covet,” he said. I covet the things that I want, and I acquire them. Sometimes by buying them.”
He reached across the table and took her hand.
“And I am a man who, by and large, gets what he wants.”
Sierra snatched back her hand and stood up.
“And you want me, is that it?” she spat at him.
To her surprise, he laughed. He laughed as if at a private joke he hadn’t let her in on yet.
“You,” he said, “are lovely. And deliciously strong willed. I’d like to throw you down right here and have you until you cum screaming. I’d do it not just because I find you attractive, but because I enjoy taking things that don’t belong to me. Having you would be a treat…”
He paused and sipped his wine.
“You are not what I want.”
“Then what do you want?” Sierra asked him.
He smiled.
“I want Sleuth.”
Sierra froze. She felt her heart skip a beat.
“Sit down,” he told her calmly. “You’re attracting attention.”
*
Slowly, Sierra sat back down in her chair. Her mind was a whirlwind of panic. She did her best to contain her emotions, and not reveal anything he might not already know.
Summoning her best dumb blond expression, she said to Dorrian, “You want what?”
“Don’t do that,” he told her as he helped himself to more cheese.
“Don’t play dumb with me, Sierra. You don’t need to give me a reason to hurt you.”
Sierra found herself thinking about how her claws had easily sliced through tree bark. She stared back at him fearlessly.
“I very much doubt you could hurt me.” She said.
Dorrian chuckled.
“Ah, yes. You newborns always think you’re invincible. Tell me, Sierra, are you capable of running without careening into the trees yet?”
“I don’t know what you’re-”
“Don’t do that.” He told her again. “It’s tiresome. Now, if I deigned to, I could tear your heart out with my teeth and eat it faster than you could even dream of shifting. So please, stop playing coy, and let’s talk business.”
He said this as calmly as if he had been discussing the weather.
With dawning realization, Sierra said, “You were the one in the woods that night. You were watching us.”
“Clever girl. Yes. Myself, and my associates witnessed your little tumble in the woods.”
Sierra decided not to ask if he was referring to her falling down or making love with Joe. His creepy smile suggested he might well have meant both.
Her heart was pounding in her chest. Looking into his eyes, she didn’t doubt that he would kill her right there just to make a point. There was something sociopathic about the way he could so coolly describe eviscerating her while sipping his glass of Bordeaux.
Around them, life proceeded as normal. The café patrons chatted happily with each other, read newspapers, and ate their baguettes, blissfully unaware of the danger.
“Do you believe in anarchy?” he asked her.
“What?” Sierra asked, bewildered by the shift in conversation.
“Do you believe that society can remain civilized in the absence of government?”
“No.” Sierra said after some hesitation. She wondered where on earth this was going.
“Nor do I.” Dorrian replied. “Which is why I believe it is a mistake that shifters in this country remain largely ungoverned. They tend to fall into loose geographical conglomerations. Most of those are overseen by an Alpha or sometimes a council. But those Alphas are not held accountable by anyone. They all make their own rules. And that’s not even accounting for the many shifters living outside the pack structure.
It’s chaos. Such ineffective management is what could lead to our discovery. What would have happened if someone shot the shifter who attacked you in the street? I hear you were just admitted to the hospital? We simply can’t have mistakes like this occurring if we wish to continue to avoid human detection.”
“Those things weren’t Joe’s fault.” Sierra protested.
“Joe’s Alpha.” Dorrian countered. “That makes it his responsibility to ensure accidents like these do not occur. Still, I can’t expect constant perfection, and he’s doing a better job than most. The pack I acquired last week in Savannah were eating so many humans the police thought they had a serial killer. So if he agrees to my terms, I would be willing to keep him on as Alpha.”
“What are your terms?” Sierra asked.
Dorrian smiled and reached into his briefcase. He produced a legal document at least forty pages long and passed it to Sierra. He then produced a second document twice as long as the first. The first was headed “Merger Agreement”. The second “Constitution of the Shifters Alliance of the United States”. Sierra scanned them briefly.
“I currently control fifty-eight packs in the North Eastern and Central United States. Sleuth will be the first of many Western packs. Each pack is managed by their independently selected Alpha, but I set the laws and maintain the authority to remove and replace that Alpha if I think it is necessary.
As Omega, I oversee all the packs, make sure they follow the laws, pay taxes, and provide for them as needed.”
“And what if we don’t want to join your little totalitarian state?”
Dorrian paused. He set down his wine glass and looked her in the eye.
“Then I will slaughter one third of the population of your little town and leave one of my own people in charge. And I’ll take you back to New York with me, where I’ll keep you in a little cage and use you as I see fit.”
And then he smiled.
Dorrian stood up. He carefully set some money on the table for the check, finished off his wine, and turned to go.
“Tell Joe he has a week to think it over.”
He brushed one long finger over her bare shoulder as he walked out. Sierra’s skin crawled under his touch. The door shut behind him with a faint tinkle of the welcome bell. Sierra was left at the table, alone, clutching the papers in shaking hands.
*
The end table made a perfect arc as it sailed through the air before connecting with the wall with a bang. It shattered spectacularly, breaking into at least six separate pieces that tumbled to the floor. It left behind a significant dent in the wall. Plaster dust rained down on the broken scraps of wood.
Joe had not been happy to hear about her lunch date with Dorrian.
In a rage, he seized upon a chair and went to hurl that as well. There was a very tentative knock on the bedroom door.
“Sir?” the meek voice of one of the maids intoned from behind the door. “Is everything alright?”
“It’s fine! Go away!” he shouted.
Sierra heard the maid’s footsteps retreating. Joe proceeded to rip the upholstered chair in half and throw each piece to the ground. Fluffy bits of stuffing drifted around the room. Joe grabbed the hope chest sitting at the foot of the bed.
“Okay! Enough!” Sierra shouted at him.
She yanked the big trunk out of his hands and took a brief moment to marvel at how easily she could lift it.
“I know you’re angry! Stop taking it out on the antiques!”
Joe collapsed into the remaining armchair in a huff, clutching the documents Dorrian had passed along.
“THAT SON OF A BITCH CAN’T JUST WALTZ IN HERE AND-”
“I know.” Sierra said. She knelt next to him and took his hand.
Simply Bears: A Ten Book Paranormal Bear Shifter Romance Collection Page 90