Billion Dollar Bear: BBW Paranormal Billionaire Romance (Bad Boy Alphas) (2 page)

Chapter Two

“So, how did it go?” Emerson asked
eagerly as Jericho slid into the backseat.

About the same way things go when a car
gets hit by a freight train
,
he thought to himself. He felt like a wreck, all gnarled and twisted up inside,
and he imagined it was going to take quite a few hours to straighten himself
out again.

Ah, if only alcohol affected his kind.
Then he might actually be
able to drown the mental agony of the last few hours in a few ounces of liquor.

“As expected,” he said, doing his best to
keep the tension out of his voice.

“Well, it seemed as though you two were
heating up a little,” Emerson said hesitantly, glancing at Jericho in the
rearview mirror. Jericho knew Emerson sensed the discord in his heart –
after all, Emerson was his cousin as well as his second-in-command, and knew Jericho
better than anyone else. “I mean, she let you kiss her on her doorstep, and
everything.”

“That’s true,” Jericho said, biting back
a snort. The idea that Ravena had ‘let’ him do so was a bit of a stretch
– the she-bear had yanked him to her, and practically shoved her tongue
down his throat.

A chill swept through him as he recalled
the kiss. Though he hadn’t been able to help the spark of fire that lit in his
loins as she swept her tongue through his mouth, and pressed her young, willing
body against his, he knew that the kiss hadn’t been one of passion, or even
desire. It had been an attempt to claim him, to mark him as her own, and he
didn’t appreciate the gesture at all.

“Dev, if you don’t want – ”

“I never said that,” Jericho interrupted.
“I just… haven’t made a decision yet.”

“Okay.” Emerson let out a relieved sigh.
His death grip on the steering wheel, which Jericho hadn’t noticed up until
now, relaxed. “It’s just… you’ve already rejected the other two possibilities,
and if you don’t settle on Ravena we’ll have to start looking out of state.”

“I know,” Jericho said gently. And he
also knew that the pickings for mates got much slimmer once he crossed state
lines because were-bears were loathe to give up their daughters to a mate that they
were not familiar with. They were extremely territorial and protective of their
families… as they had a right to be.

As Jericho would be once he had his own
daughters and sons.

Biting back a sigh, Jericho closed his
eyes and leaned back against the seat, trying to banish the throbbing headache
at his temples. The truth was, he did want cubs of his own, and had wanted them
for quite some time. It was just that he also wanted the right mate by his
side. His own parents had married out of duty rather than love, and the ugly,
late-night fights had taken a toll on Jericho throughout his childhood years.
He didn’t want his cubs to have to deal with the heartache that came from being
forced to stand by and watch as two people they loved tore each other apart.

Sometimes he wondered if it was the
fighting that had robbed his mother of the strength and will to live, and why,
during the war, she’d allowed herself to get caught in the crossfire and
killed.

“We’re here, Jericho.”

Jericho opened his eyes, and looked out
the window at the modern, Lincoln Park townhome of limestone and glass he’d
called home in Chicago for the last twenty years.

“Goodnight, Emerson,” he said to his
friend before closing the car door and heading for home.

 

* * *

Once within the limestone walls, he
quickly changed into a t-shirt and jeans, then headed for the safety of his
office. Settled behind his desk with a glass of bourbon, he began to delve into
the pile of real estate paperwork and listings that constantly demanded his
attention.

And then abruptly realized just what it
was that had bothered him so much tonight.

It hadn’t just been the possessive
touches, the claiming kisses, and the constant airy, flirtatious chatter that
held little to no meaning. Nor was it the utter lack of honesty, the high gloss
of shine and subterfuge, all meant to allure and entice him willingly into her
bed. He’d known that Ravena was a seductress, and had expected all of those
things. He had also prepared for it.

But what he hadn’t expected was just how absolutely
bored he’d felt during the whole thing.

While he’d turned half an ear toward her
prattle, pretending to be interested in whatever attempt at witty conversation
she was trying to engage him in, his mind had drifted constantly toward his
business. His brain consistently churning out potential scenarios for wheels
and deals he was trying to move toward, for all the meetings he was scheduled
to have for the deals he already had on the table, for all employees he had to
manage and cultivate, many of which were clan, others which were not.

Most men would have been fantasizing
about a woman they really did want to be spending time with, or at least the
fantasy of one. And many of them would have at least considered trying to find
a way beneath Ravena’s skirt without having to give up their souls.

But he had only been concerned with
business.

What’s happened to me?
He wondered, leaning back in
his chair, and running a hand through his hair, tousling chestnut brown locks.
Staring up at the recessed ceiling, he propped his feet on a corner of his desk,
and sincerely pondered the question. He hadn’t always been such a workaholic
– back in the day, before the clan war had started, and he’d rebelled
against his mother and father’s wishes in retaliation for their constant
fighting, he’d lived the high life, riding fast cars and faster women, going on
wild, carefree adventures with Emerson and his friends whenever they could get
the chance, and reveling with some of the hottest night club in Chicago.

Of course, things were a little different
back then – both more dangerous and less restrictive in a lot of ways. But
still, he no longer found excitement in that sort of thing.

He knew the reason he’d shunned that life
and thrown himself into the roll of leader and entrepreneur had been his
father. The man had died shortly after the war, his injuries too great to
sustain him for long, leaving him what was left of his real estate business and
a fractured, broken-hearted clan that had lost many of its brethren. Though Jericho
had been ill equipped for the role, he’d seen the clan as his responsibility,
and in keeping with his vow to never treat his family the way his own parents
had treated him, had thrown himself wholeheartedly into both the clan and the
business. He’d given the clan much-needed unity and strength, and had built his
father’s business into a billion-dollar empire that would provide both himself
and the clan with financial security for the rest of their lives.

But apparently that wasn’t enough,
because now he had to force himself to marry a she-bear that was the antithesis
of everything he wanted in a mate. Though he acknowledged the clan was well
within their rights to insist on it – he was well past the time he came
of age to take a mate, and the longer he waited, the higher the chances were
that he’d be killed without producing any offspring – he still chafed at
the idea of being forced to do something he didn’t want to do.

Most people looked at him and simply saw
the wealth and power he commanded. Seldom did they ever look down to notice the
chains that bound him to that wealth and power, denying him the comforts of a
simple life

Oh stop being so melodramatic,
the voice in his head argued.
It’s not like you.

No, it wasn’t like him to wallow in
self-pity. Doing so never accomplished much of anything except a raging desire
to drown his sorrows in whatever manner he could – and since the only
manner available was work, that was always what he turned to.

But maybe, just maybe he could allow
himself a distraction of another sort. A throwback to the days of fun and
mayhem where he didn’t have a care in the world – or at least he ignored
them. Surely if he was going to bind himself to Ravena, he was allowed a little
bit of a wild spree first, wasn’t he?

The wheels in his head began to turn,
driving the headache away as a true smile lit his face for the first time that
day.

 

* * *

“I’m sorry, you’re going where?” Emerson
sputtered.

“Paris.” Jericho leaned back in his chair
and put his feet up on the corner of his desk so he could get a better look at Emerson.
His second was standing in front of the bank of windows that lined his corner
office wearing a white button-down shirt and grey slacks, and an expression
that could only be described as complete and utter shock. Behind him, the
rising sun hovered over the Chicago skyline – a spectacular view that,
being the boss, he enjoyed every day with a nice cup of coffee from his office
window.

With any luck, he’d be missing out on
that view for at least a couple of days. And he couldn’t wait.

“There’s got to be some kind of mistake
here,” Emerson said, whipping out his phone to check the calendar. “I don’t
remember putting you down for any meetings in Paris tomorrow – ”

      “Emerson,”
Jericho said gently, trying not to sound too amused at his cousin’s frazzled
behavior. Here at the office, Emerson was his partner, and therefore knew about
any meetings or business trips they had planned. “This isn’t something you
overlooked. I’ve just decided to take a break from everything for a few days.”

      A frown
drew Emerson’s dark blond brows together, and he crossed his arms, instantly
morphing from confused partner into annoyed second-in-command. “You? A
vacation? You haven’t taken any time off in years, and that last time was only
because you had to attend a mating ceremony out of state.”

      Jericho
bit back a wince. He really was a workaholic. “Yeah, well, I figured it was
time for a change. I’ve been working so hard for so long that I’ve forgotten
what it means to have fun. I figure I’ve busted my ass long enough for this
business, and for the clan that I can afford to take a little time off, don’t
you?”

      Emerson
stared at Jericho as if he’d grown a second head, then surprised Jericho as a
huge grin burst onto his face. “I never thought I’d hear those words!” he
exclaimed, clapping Jericho heartily on the shoulder. “Man, Ravena’s turning
out to be a great influence on you!”

      Jericho’s
mood instantly darkened at the mention of the she-bear’s name. “Yeah, whatever
you say Emerson,” he said lightly.

      If Emerson
noticed the dip in Jericho’s mood, he chose to ignore it. “Good for you, buddy.”
He reached for his phone. “I’ll have to fill in for a few of your meetings.
I’ll go ahead and get that all set up, but do you need me to book your flight
or anything?”

      Jericho
held up a hand. “No,” he said, suddenly feeling antsy. “I’ve got it all under
control.”

      Emerson
frowned. “Okay, but– ”

      “Really, I
got it,” Jericho said firmly, arching a brow.

      Emerson
snapped his mouth shut. “Of course,” he replied, a grin spreading across his
face. “This is going to do wonders for you, Jericho. You’re gonna be a new man
when you get back.”

      Jericho
couldn’t help but smile back. “I’m counting on it.”  

Chapter Three

 

“Ladies and gentlemen, at this time, we
request that all electronic devices be turned off for the time being. We will
notify you when it is safe to use such devices.”

Jericho sighed as he powered off his
phone, grateful for the flight attendant’s announcement. He’d made it all of
three minutes before he’d whipped out his phone to check his email, which had
quickly turned into responding to emails, which in turn had lead into
researching market reports, which had then turned into…

 
Stop it
, he berated himself
as he started to take out his phone again. To remove himself from temptation,
he took the device from his pocket, and stored it in his carry on bag in the
overhead luggage compartment.
There
, he thought to himself as he
returned to his seat, ignoring the flight attendant’s scowl – he was
supposed to be all buckled up by now.
Now I can’t do any work during the
entire flight.

Resting his head against the seat, he
closed his eyes and waited for the flight to take off. His ears filled with the
sound of the plane rumbling across the lane, of the turbines roaring as they
powered up, of the wind shrieking as the plane’s wings sliced through the air,
and then they were up, up, up, rising into the sky.

Headed for Paris.

His eyes popped open, and he glanced out
the window, watching as Chicago slowly began to recede from view. He’d done it.
He was on his way to Paris. Excitement filled him at the thought of spending a
few days alone, without any responsibility on his shoulders at all. It was
quickly chased by a hefty douse of fear, for his company and his clan. Would
they be able to manage without him? What if they were attacked in his absence?

Don’t be ridiculous
, he scoffed at himself. None
of the clans were at war with each other right now, so there was no need to be
concerned about that. Emerson was as easy going and laid-back as they came, so
there was no way he was going to do anything to get their clan riled up in a
conflict while he was gone.

Stranger things have happened
… a voice reminded him slyly.

Jericho clenched his jaw.
It was time
for him to stop worrying about his responsibilities and kick back, relax.

Looking around, he noticed that several
passengers were already pulling out books and e-readers.
Ah, reading.
An
excellent idea. He was just about to reach into his pocket for his phone, and
then cursed aloud when he remembered he’d stowed it away so he wouldn’t be able
to work while on the flight.

“Are you alright, honey?” The elderly
woman next to him slowly turned, her milky blue eyes blinking slowly as she
regarded him through huge spectacles.

Jericho winced as he realized he’d drawn
attention to himself. “No, I’m fine,” he assured her hastily. “I apologize for
disturbing you.”

The old lady smiled sweetly at him. “It’s
not a problem at all. Why don’t you tell me what’s got you all worked up?”

“It’s nothing really,” Jericho replied,
but he relented under the woman’s kind gaze. “I just forgot to pick up a book
before I got on the flight.”

“Oh, I see.” The woman nodded sagely,
then reached forward and produced what looked like a hand-knitted drawstring
pack, woven from multicolored thread. “Well lucky for you, I always bring a
couple of different books with me on a flight. Why don’t you borrow one?”

“I don’t – ” startled, he took the
paperback thrust into his hands, and his mouth dropped open at the sight of a
gaudy romance novel cover featuring a burly, bare-chested warrior holding a
half-naked woman in his arms. “I can’t take – ”

“Oh please, I insist.” The old woman
patted his knee reassuringly. “Don’t worry, I trust you’ll keep it safe during
the flight.”

“Thank you,” he replied, unwilling to
spurn her gift by telling her he’d never in a million years read a novel like
this. Unsure of what to do, he opened the book and stared at the pages without
really reading the words, trying to think of what to do. He supposed he could ask
the flight attendant for headphones and watch TV –

‘He slid a hand beneath the bodice of her
gown, and gently cupped her heavy, round breast, eliciting a sharp, indrawn
breath from her.’

Wait. What?

Jericho blinked as the sentence jumped
out at him from the page, and before he knew it, he was reading more. ‘His
thumb flicked back and forth across her nipple, teasing the nub into a taut,
aching bud, and he smiled as he felt her knees wobble. It didn’t take long
before her legs threatened to give out from beneath her, and when that happened
he swooped her into his arms and carried her to the bed.’

Jericho chuckled. What kind of book was
this?

‘He laid her gently atop the feather tick
mattress, taking a moment to admire the way her reddish brown tresses gleamed
in the firelight as they spilled across the pillows, the way her whiskey eyes
shone with desire, the way her pink lips glistened moistly, swollen with his
kisses. Kneeling on the bed, he slowly pushed her skirt up her legs, drawing it
past her hips to expose –‘

Good God!
Jericho whipped his eyes away from the
page before he read more, swiftly glancing around at the elderly woman out of
the corner of his eye. What was the matter with her? Was she trying to torture
him by making him suffer through a raging hard-on for the rest of the flight?
For that matter, how on earth did she sit here reading this stuff without
getting worked up herself?

Don’t even go there
, he thought, a shudder going
through him at the very idea. But still, women of all ages apparently read
these things. He’d seen plenty of them reading romance paperbacks at bus stops
and train stations, and yes, most certainly during flights, but he’d never even
opened a book like this himself.

Sighing, he checked the time on his
watch. It was going to be another four hours before they landed in Paris. Resigned
to his fate, he settled back in his chair to read about lustful tales of
barbarians and wenches, and hoped to God he’d eventually fall asleep and spend
the rest of the flight in a state of blissful unawareness.

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