Bree looked at this man's suit and tie. They looked expensive. His shoes shined under the rays of the sun. The gold watch wrapped around his wrist—which was so large the band could barely fit—looked like a Rolex.
"Nowhere," she replied. Her voice was harsh, but she didn't care. This was exactly the type of man her parents would love, and the type she stayed away from. "Excuse me, I have to go."
She turned on her heel and left the man standing there, unaware of the twitching of his hardened jaw and the unnatural glow that burned behind his eyes.
Chapter 3
Blake stood with his back against the limo, waiting with the driver on the side of the road like a servant.
I'm no servant! I'm second in command!
It almost sounded good. Almost sounded powerful. But there was that pesky word that just wouldn't go away—second. Blake had always been second best. Even in high school, when the change had happened, it had been Jakob who had turned first. Blake had followed a mere week later, but that still qualified as second.
"Damn him for this!" Blake hollered, beating his fist against the glass. He felt the window give slightly and pulled his hand away before it broke.
The driver looked up from his cell phone. "It's not really Mr. Moore's fault the limo had engine trouble."
Blake glared at him.
The driver tried to hold his gaze against Blake's. He'd never liked Blake—he was a kiss-ass and he'd be damned if he'd let that sonofabitch think he was better than him—but soon the driver's steel faltered. Something in Blake's eyes made the driver fear being alone with him. He looked like he could snap at any moment, like... like he wasn't entirely human. But, that was ridiculous. Blake grinned at him, revealing teeth that were too sharp and too long for convention. The driver turned back to his cell phone.
Blake laughed. Jakob would never have allowed him to mess with the driver that way, but Jakob wasn't here. He'd left Blake with this servant and went off to the meeting alone. The meeting Blake had helped plan. The one that could bring them millions and ensure the livelihood of the pride for the next decade—hell, the next century. And, here Blake was, cast aside like a piece of rotting meat. It made him sick.
***
Bree hovered in front of the counter at the coffee shop, her cheeks flaming red.
"It was declined," the barista said. "Again." The girl, so young she still had acne, gave Bree an exasperated look.
"But, I know there's money in it. Try again." The barista sighed but banged some keys on her register and the credit machine reset. Bree swiped her card. It made a loud beeping noise and the screen flashed red: DECLINED.
"Do you have another form of payment ma'am?"
Ma'am? Did she just call me ma'am? Jeez, this day was getting worse and worse. First, there was the same tired struggle with her mother. Next, she crashes into a supermodel body builder who makes her skin tingle, and falls flat on her ass. Not to mention that as hot as he was, she walks away from him because she's too disillusioned to see any point in granting even a small flirtation. Now, this.
She vaguely wished she'd gotten his name. His eyes had been so intense. She felt them on her even now, those deep golden-brown orbs that had sucked her in, mesmerizing her like a magician. She knew she was probably idealizing him in her mind. No one was that perfect.
"Ma'am," the barista's voice rose. A line was forming behind Bree. "Are you gonna get the latte or what?"
"I guess not," she said, lowering her eyes a fraction of an inch. She could already taste the latte on her tongue.
"Allow me," a voice crooned from behind her.
Bree didn't need to turn around. The voice was unmistakable. It was too deep, too sultry to be anyone other than the model she'd left on the sidewalk only ten minutes prior. Her blood pressure shot up twenty points as he stepped towards her.
His shoes made soft clunks on the ground as he moved through the crowd. They parted for him like he was a celebrity coming down a red carpet, and he seemed to accept, no—expect it. Bree turned her head and saw the jaw on the girl behind her drop open and begin to salivate. He handed the barista a fifty. "Please, add the change to your tip jar." The girl blushed.
The supermodel smiled at Bree and when his arm brushed hers she felt her heart skip several beats. She took a great gulp of air and said, "You don't have to do that."
"I insist."
She couldn't stop the corners of her mouth from curving up.
"Did you follow me here?" she asked.
"Yes."
His honesty startled her. She wasn't sure whether she should be flattered or frightened.
"I'm Jakob Moore." He stretched out his hand and she took it again without thinking. It was almost as hot as the latte he handed her.
"Now," he said, leading her away from the crowd. His eyes followed her as she walked, watching her ample hips swish back and forth over her shapely legs, crafted, no doubt, to entice him. "Tell me your name."
"Oh," she said. "I'm... I'm..." Her brain wasn't working for some reason. "Bree," she finally spit out.
"Bree," he repeated. Her name rolled off his tongue like sugar. "Now that we've been introduced, you must do something for me."
Bree hesitated, searching his face for the telltale signs of a serial killer, but seeing none. "Yes?"
Jakob gestured towards her latte. "An exchange. Coffee for companionship."
Her reaction confused him at first. She looked angry.
"You want my companionship?" she shouted. Her beautiful blue eyes narrowed. "What do you think I am? Some kind of prost—" But Bree couldn't get the word out. The taste was too vile in her mouth.
Jakob immediately realized the miscommunication gaffe. "No," he said, "I didn't mean it like that. I only meant—"
She threw her coffee on the floor. It splattered against his legs and singed his skin, for a shifter a mere a bee sting that would heal in minutes. Bree was already to the door. He moved to follow her.
"Bree," he called. "Stop." His tone was commanding, the roar of a king, and she did as he said. Good.
She turned to him. "If you follow me again, creep, I'll rip your balls off."
She pushed the door open and left Jakob standing wet and alone, more startled than the crowd of coffee drinkers.
Chapter 4
Blake stared at Jacob, horrified. "You missed the meeting?"
Jakob barely looked at him as he shrugged out of his suit coat and tossed it onto the cherry wood bench lining the entrance hall of his pride’s home. All he could think of was Bree. How had he blown it? He didn't think that was possible. Once established, the connection with your mate could never be severed. Yet, she had run from him twice already.
Blake's anger overwhelmed him. He felt his body wanting to shift. His eyes glowed a golden orange and his fingers extended towards the floor.
"Pull it back in," Jakob ordered. "Now is not the time."
Blake forced himself to concentrate. Soon his breathing normalized and his eyes were once again a very average looking hazel. He was embarrassed at such an outburst in front of Jakob.
"Did you hear what I said," Jakob growled, "or are you so focused on money you can think of nothing else?" Blake did not respond so Jakob continued. "I found my mate."
Blake knew Jacob shouldn't be faulted for what had happened—when you found your mate, there was nothing so important as solidifying the bond—but he didn't care. If Jakob couldn't do close the deal himself, he should've sent Blake in his place.
Jakob sensed Blake's anger, and it unsettled him. Blake had always been loyal, but was that loyalty wavering lately? It upset Jakob to think that Blake, his oldest friend and second in charge, could show signs of wanting a blood draw. If Blake persisted, Jakob would have no choice but to put him in his place. Even if that meant banishment from the pride—or worse.
"Next time, I'll go to the meeting." Blake said.
Jakob's growl grew deep in his throat. "You are still second, Blake. You do not make demands. You ask p
ermission." He paused and let the strength of his will wash over Blake's own. All alpha's had the ability to force their will onto the male lions in their pride. It was for the safety of the pride this was possible—contradiction in a lion pride could quickly lead to death and destruction.
Blake tried to fight the power of Jakob's injunction, but it was stronger than his own.
"Forgive me," Blake finally said, because he had no choice. The words were bitter on his tongue.
Jakob nodded, dismissing Blake. He would deal with him later. For now, there were more important matters to take care of.
***
Jakob was hunting Bree. He found her scent easily in the air. Even from miles away, it could not hide from him. There was something else... a gentle tugging at the back of his brain that told him where she was. He'd heard the stories, of course, of sharing a connection with your mate so strong it was sometimes as though you were one person. He'd thought the stories were exaggerated. He knew now that they weren’t.
Jakob left his house early and followed Bree on her Saturday morning routine. She'd stopped first at a convenient store and come out carrying a bottle of water. She'd seen him, but he'd disappeared quickly, knowing it wasn't the right time to reveal himself.
Next, she stopped at the bank. She'd seen him again, and he smiled at her through the window and continued on his way, as if the meeting were mere coincidence.
Now he stood outside a coffee shop. Not the same one as last time. This one offered chocolate mocha volcano cups, whatever those were. He watched through the window as Bree placed her order.
***
Bree knew Jakob was outside. He'd been following her all morning. She didn't know if he thought she was too dumb to notice, or so confident that he didn’t think it mattered.
She tried to gather her thoughts. Call the police? No. Despite his trailing her everywhere, she didn't feel threatened by him. She felt flattered. A wealthy, sexy man was giving up his Saturday morning to follow her around as she ran menial tasks like going to the bank and buying coffee.
She looked at the latte in her hand—coffee was her one vice. She couldn't live without it—and knew she shouldn't spend the money on it. She'd had to transfer money from her savings to her checking account yesterday after work. Her savings was almost completely gone now. A couple hundred dollars and she'd be dead broke.
She watched Jakob pace outside the shop. He sent tingles up her spine, even as he stalked her. She couldn't stay in here all morning. She stepped outside. "Are you following me?"
"Yes." Jakob watched for her reaction. He didn't want her running off again, but he also refused to lie. There was weakness in lying, and Jakob was not a weak man.
"Why?" she demanded.
Jakob shrugged. "Because you're my mate."
His mate? Was he for real? However, as strange as the words sounded, they were kind of titillating. She'd dreamt of him last night. It had been a very vivid dream, charged with a sexuality almost as unreal as the muscles under his clothes.
"I want to explain about yesterday," Jakob said. "When I asked for companionship, I only meant the pleasure of your company." Her eyes narrowed slightly. "In a public place," he added. "I only wished to talk to you."
"Why?" Bree asked. She couldn't believe a man like this would have anything much to say to her. A man like him could have his choice from half the women in the city. Ok, his personality was a bit arrogant, but with looks like his, and his obvious wealth, Bree would be surprised if he didn’t have women falling over themselves to talk to him, or do anything else he desired.
Jakob could not believe how beautiful, yet how stubborn, this woman was. He knew she felt what he did. Why was she resisting? "I told you. You're my mate." Bree's heart thumped in her chest. "Go to dinner with me," he said. "Tonight. I want you to know me."
Bree felt herself giving in. "I have work stuff…," she murmured. The excuse sounding lame even to her own ears.
Jakob's eyes went black then lightened to an almost unnatural degree of bright yellow-gold. "This is more important," he said. "It's the weekend, anyway."
She couldn't fight the electricity that zipped over her skin just being near him. Her pulse was racing and in that moment, her heart overruled her brain by a miniscule margin, and she gave in. "Alright," she said, and gave him her address.
Chapter 5
Bree double checked herself in the mirror. Her dress was tight and clung to every voluptuous curve of her body. She especially liked the way her breasts rounded out to form a nice line of cleavage skinny chicks could never get without implants.
The light green of her dress highlighted the deeper green of her eyes, and she added a dash of red to her lips before pressing them onto a napkin to blot the excess. How long had it been since she’d gone on a date? She’d given up dating some time ago, and was surprised to find she was actually a little nervous about the evening. When the bell rang, Bree's startled so hard she almost jumped. Ok, maybe she was more than a little nervous. She shuffled down the hall of her apartment and slipped into some black heels before adjusting herself one last time.
Jakob stood outside the door, flowers in hand, feeling silly. The typical courting rituals weren't usually done when you found your mate. They weren't necessary. Mates were usually other lion shifters who instinctively knew they were supposed to be together. Things like dating and courtships were usually skipped. It went from claiming to having cubs.
Bree was making this more difficult than it should be, but he also found that to be something fascinating about her. He felt as though he already knew her, yet he could not wrap his mind around exactly what made her tick. She infuriated him in ways no woman ever had. Jakob had become accustomed to getting his own way, especially where women were concerned, and now he found himself having to work for his mate’s affection. It aroused the predator in him like nothing else ever had.
"So, you're not a model?" Bree asked after they'd been seated.
The restaurant they were in was far too fancy for her taste. Bree shifted in her seat. At the table next to them, a woman in a Valentino dress drank Dom Pérignon like it was water.
Jakob laughed. It was a rich sound that made her body tingle and long to touch more than just his hand.
"No. I suppose you could call me an entrepreneur. I own several companies, and buy other companies that I think will make me more money."
"That sounds… hmmm… exciting," Bree said, her voice betraying her white lie. She shuffled her hands nervously. She didn't like the idea of wealth. Despite the money her family had, she'd never been comfortable with it. Having money always made you want more money, and once you were on that hamster wheel, there was never enough of it to satisfy. She'd watched her parents spend more time with their money than they had with each other, or even her.
Jakob's face twitched. "I've worked hard for wealth. My work supports my family, and I like having control over my own life, a control that isn’t possible if one is always struggling from paycheck to paycheck to earn a dollar."
His words felt like a dig at her, but there was something else he'd said that was far more alarming. "Your family? Are you married?" She was horrified she hadn't thought to ask. Of course a man like him was married. She'd seen too many couples break up because of infidelity, and she would never allow herself to be a part of that, no matter how much Jakob made her head spin.
"No," Jakob said, taken aback, "I'm not married. I meant my brothers."
"Oh," Bree was surprised at the depth of her relief. She was definitely attracted to Jacob’s scrumptious body and sculpted good-looks. In fact, she hadn't thought it was possible for her to want a man so much, so fast.
The waiter brought champagne in an elegant gold bottle embossed with a lavish golden spade. The bottle looked more expensive than the watch Jakob wore on his wrist. The champagne was poured for them, and Bree read the label.
"It's Armand di Brignac," Jakob said. "Brut gold." He added these last words as if they should mean somet
hing to her.
She smiled and sipped the champagne. It was silky and creamy and Bree wanted to get rid of it. She would've rather had wine in a box than this stuff sitting in front of her. She picked up a menu, trying to relieve her mind of its discomfort. The menu prices were like a punch in the jaw. One hundred dollars for soup and salad! Was that for real?
Jakob caught Bree eyeing the bottle of Brignac and held his head high, proud that he'd made the right choice. Wealth and power were always an attractant to the fairer sex, and he possessed both in abundance. "It's one of the best champagnes in the world," Jakob said, intending to entice her further. "Only the finest restaurants stock it. Three thousand a bottle." The last part might have been considered a bit gauche, but Jakob was proud he could afford such luxuries. Soon Bree would have them too.
Bree dropped her menu. Her eyes were narrowed, and her lips were drawn together tightly. "What's wrong?" Jakob asked.
"How much did you say?"
"What?"
"The champagne. How much did you say it costs?"
"Oh," Jakob relaxed. His enticement had done the trick. She was impressed. "Only three thousand. You can buy it cheaper wholesale, but the way the restaurants mark things up..."
Bree snatched her purse from the table and slid her chair back abruptly.
"Are you going to the restroom?" Jakob asked, uncertain. He did not like uncertainty.
"No. I'm leaving," she snapped.
"Leaving?" he stood up now and reached out an arm to stop her. "Why?" He was shocked to find tears in her eyes.
"I knew this was a mistake. Why did you bring me here? Just to show off?"
"Well..." Jakob felt himself stumbling. He wasn't accustomed to such outbursts. "Yes."
Her mouth dropped open and her cheeks grew red. Jakob had no idea what to do. It angered him to feel so clueless.
Bears of Burden: THORN Page 14