Romance: A Virgin For The Tiger: BBW Paranormal Shapeshifter Romance (BBW Shifter Romance) (2 page)

 

Chapter 3

 

 

The next week was a series of foibles and insults. He never name-called directly, but he was a master of speaking to her as though she were an idiot.

 

Of all things, Bernadette considered herself a quick study. It was how she made it through school, and how she took to bartending so well.

 

Louis Delacroix was a particular man, but he wasn’t nearly as complicated as he wanted everything to believe. There was an air of mystery about him, however, and one that she had trouble cracking.

 

No one knew where he went at night, or exactly where he lived. He had mail come in from all over the world, some of it arriving at the office, others in various post office boxes around the city. Some only received letters, while others only received packages.

 

He never opened any of the mail in the presence of anyone, and only asked Bernadette to send his outgoing mail for him. He was consistent, however, and punctual.

 

As long as she stay on top of the schedule, anticipating his needs became intuitive. Coffee, notes, and mid-afternoon readings of that morning’s notes as he’d forgotten what he’d said just a few hours ago.

 

By the end of the week, she started to find the groove. He stopped talking to her like she was a moron, and she’d figured out his habits well enough to keep up.

 

Thursday night she found herself at the supermarket picking up a few emergency food items when she passed by the pharmacy, specifically, the vitamin aisle. The idea came to her, and though part of her suspected he might fire her on the spot, another insisted he’d find the humor in it just as she would.

 

Bernadette couldn’t afford to lose this job, but neither could she keep up a façade of demure secretary for much longer. That shell was going to crack, and when it did, he’d be forced to deal with whom she was. And this, right here, was who she was.

 

Bernadette snatched up the pill bottle and decided that whatever happened was going to happen tomorrow, and best it be over with if it was going to happen.

 

Friday morning she was just a few steps behind Louis as he came in. As he hung up his jacket and sat at his desk, she placed his cup of black coffee on the coaster and set down the pill bottle next to it. The sound of the pills rattling in the bottle got his attention.

 

“What’s this?”

 

“B12. For memory. It’s a vitamin deficiency most notable in old people.”

 

When he looked up at her, she added, “Or people with severe bowel disorders.”

 

It was everything she could do to keep a straight face as she pulled out her notepad and pen, ready to write down whatever he said.

 

Louis leaned back in his chair, his tongue probing the inside of his cheek as he looked at her and then the pill bottle.

 

“Do you know how many secretaries I’ve had in the last three years, Bernie?”

 

“My name is Bernadette. And no I don’t. Sir.”

 

The barest hint of a smile pulled at the corners of his mouth, a sign that he struggled to keep a straight face just as much as she was. “17.”

 

“Holy shit.”

 

Louis’s eyebrows shot up and he looked at her.

 

Bernadette sucked her lips into her mouth, embarrassed at the outburst, and then added, “Sir.”

 

“Holy shit, indeed,” he said.

 

“And not one of them was,” he paused and ran his tongue over his front teeth, “thoughtful enough, shall we say, to provide me with a vitamin supplement.”

 

“Will there be anything else?” she asked, pointedly adding in a belated, “Sir.”

 

“That will be all,” he said, finally smiling and turning to his paperwork.

 

Bernadette left his office feeling far more confident than she had all week.

 

It was another two weeks before anything significant happened, but during those two weeks, there were a number of small things. Small sidelong glances she caught of him, looking at her when her back was turned. He started thanking her in the morning when she brought him his coffee.

 

Of all the things, that was the most noticeable by the other employees. In all his time as their boss, no one could ever recall him thanking anyone for anything. Naturally, this led them all to assume she was sleeping with her boss, but Bernadette adamantly refused.

 

Mary backed her up on this, fortunately, siting the fact that her entire town had been trying to get in her pants since she’d come of age. Some of the creepier ones not even waiting that long.

 

Of course, this story spread throughout the office building, and it wasn’t until the end of those two weeks when it finally came around to bite her in the ass.

 

The rule was that if he worked late, she worked late. Fortunately for her, this rarely came up as he was strict in his use of time outside of the office.

Twice, however, this rule had been invoked, and she’d lost her entire evening to sifting through papers and answering emergency phone calls.

 

Chapter 4

 

 

It was the second time, as they were looking through records for a particular series of transactions that he very bluntly started a conversation.

 

“So. You’re a virgin, I hear.”

 

The clicking of Bernadette’s keyboard slowed to a stop and she looked over at him. “Is this appropriate office conversation?”

 

“Oh please,” he said with a scoff, never looking away from his screen.

 

“We’re both adults here. It’s 7:30 at night, and there’s no one else here but us. Besides, you’ve already had this conversation with the other employees. What makes me exempt?”

 

“Hiring and firing power.”

 

Louis laughed and finally looked away from his work to see her.

 

“I promise, no matter your answer, I’m not going to fire you. At least, not for that.”

 

“Oh, so there are other reasons you’ll fire me?”

 

“There’s a list.”

 

“A list?”

 

“Huge. Massive.”

 

“Massive?” she said, feigning astonishment.

 

“Laundry lists look at this list with a mix of awe and horror.”

 

“My,” she said, turning to her screen, “I had no idea my transgressions were so voluminous.”

 

“Voluminous. Look who has a vocabulary.”

 

“Tell you what,” she said, pausing her work again.

 

“I’ll tell you the truth, the real honest truth about exactly how many men have touched me, have taken off my clothes one piece at a time, and seen me naked…”

 

Louis looked at her from the side of his eye and then back to his screen, but she noticed the way he licked his lower lip as he said, “Mhm.”

 

“… but you have to answer a question for me first.”

 

“I pay your salary. I don’t have to do anything.”

 

“True, you don’t.” She turned back to her screen and continued searching for the transactions.

 

Her heart near beat out of her chest as she waited in the silence that hung between them.

 

“Oh,” he said, drawing out the sound. “I see. We’re doing that then, are we?”

 

“Mhm,” she said, pulling her lips between her teeth.

 

“All right, I suppose fair is fair. Ask me your question.”

 

“You’ve this reputation. I think I can spare us both the hassle of describing your reputation among your employees.”

 

“Indeed. I know of it well. One could dare say I’ve cultivated it, carefully, like a garden.”

 

“Right, so, with your garden of hate firmly implanted… why are you so nice to me?”

 

Louis removed the glasses he occasionally used to read the small text on the screen and stretched his neck out to the side. “You’re not afraid of me.”

 

“Yes I am,” she said, unable to believe he’d say something so off-the-wall.

 

“No, you’re not. You’re afraid of losing your job, but not of me.”

 

Bernadette looked at him, fully intending on arguing the point, but she realized he was right. As he looked at her, those light blue eyes peeking out from perfectly sculpted eyebrows, she realized she’d never really been afraid of him. It was always just the job.

 

He’d always struck her as more an entitled child, but in the weeks she’d gotten to know him, she realized it was all an act to keep everyone at bay.

 

Louis Delacroix stood on a social island of his own creation, alone due to his own orchestration. But Louis Delacroix was not a scary man.

 

“There,” he said, “you see? Even the way you’re looking at me now.” He sighed and put his glasses back on. “Face it, you’re smitten.”

 

Bernadette gasped, once more opening her mouth to argue… and finding herself unable to.

 

“Your turn,” he said.

 

“None.”

 

“Really?” He sounded more impressed than doubtful.

 

“Really, really. No one’s come along that convinced me I should.”

When he looked over at her, she made sure to wait just a half-second too long before looking back at her screen.

 

Facing forward, she focused on her peripheral vision and saw the small smile on his face before he turned back to his.

 

The rest of that evening passed in silence, but Bernadette felt a line had been crossed. Exactly what that meant, she couldn’t be sure. But things were changing.

 

After that, there were glances. Smiles. Embarrassed by her own feelings, she did her best to hide it, but apparently this just made it even more obvious, because everyone in the office had something to say about it.

 

They accused her of trying to sleep her way up the corporate ladder, or trying to land the big fish, the golden goose.

 

Mary knew better, though. She took Bernadette out to lunch and pounced on her. “He likes you too,” she said, as giddy as she used to be back in high school.

 

“Really?” Bernadette asked.

 

“Oh, please, it’s so obvious. He denies it, but he’s been in several meetings about his “romantic ventures” because the stock holders are worried about his financial stability. Pfft, whatever that means.”

 

“That doesn’t mean he likes me, though.”

 

“Doesn’t it?”

 

“No,” Bernadette said matter-of-factly. “It means he’s a slut and needs to keep his dick in his pants. Thanks for lunch.”

 

 

Chapter 5

 

 

The next day, Louis called her into his office. She was there, pen and notepad ready, but disillusioned with what Mary had unintentionally spilled to her.

 

“I have a meeting out of town tomorrow,” he said, filing some papers into folders. “I need you to come with me.”

 

“Tomorrow’s Saturday,” she said.

 

“I’m aware of what day it is,” he said, looking up at her with a smirk. “And tomorrow, Saturday, I have a meeting out of town.”

 

“It’s my weekend.”

 

“It’s your job.”

 

“Maybe,” she mumbled, and scribbled on the notepad.

 

“What was that?” he asked, setting his hands on the desk.

 

“Nothing.”

 

“I’m sorry, have I done something to offend you? I don’t like this meeting any more than you do. It’s my Saturday as well, you know. But I have to go, and I need you there with me. I want you there.”

 

“Why not take one of the many other girls your stock holders are concerned about?” The words were out of her mouth before she could call them back.

 

“Excuse me?” he asked, surprised, but with a smile on his mouth. It was the smile that threw her off the most.

 

“I know all about your meetings because of your romantic escapades. Can we just drop the act?”

 

Louis held up the papers and tapped the bottom of the stack on his desk. Once the papers were neat and orderly, he slipped them into a folder, set the folder to the side, and interlocked his fingers. “

 

The rumor mill is alive and well, I see. The meetings you’re referring to are about an attempt at an arranged marriage between myself and the daughter of one of our stockholders.”

 

The pen fell from Bernadette’s hand, and she bent down quickly to pick it up again.

 

“A, ah, uh, arranged m-marriage? Huh. I didn’t, I mean…”

 

“Yes. Preposterous as it may seem, it’s actually not that uncommon. Marriage has always been a political contract between powers, and it applies now just as it did back in, shall we say, less civilized times.”

 

“I had no idea,” she said, feeling ashamed at having jumped to the worst possible conclusion.

 

“Not a worry,” he said. “The way I see it now, we’re even.”

 

Bernadette chanced a smile and nodded. “I suppose that’s fair.”

 

“So, tomorrow. The meeting.”

 

She nodded. “I’ll be there.”

 

“Actually, meet me here, and feel free to dress casual.”

 

The next day, Bernadette stood out front of the building, pacing and checking her phone frequently. Despite his insistence on almost militant punctuality, Louis was already fifteen minutes late.

 

Just as she started to suspect this was some sort of cruel practical joke on an enormous scale, his luxury car pulled up.

Bernadette stood with one foot out to the side, and rested a hand on her hip to display her disapproval. The driver-side door opened, and he popped up looking as fine as ever in his perfectly tailored grey suit, sunglasses, and gelled hair.

 

“It’s not my fault,” were the first words out of his mouth.

 

“Mhm,” she replied.

 

“It’s not my fault,” he said again, and then pulled up a box from the car. It was black with a glossy finish, a big yellow ribbon and bow tied around it.

 

“They’d said they had it in your size, and I had someone confirm it for me, even.” He came around the front of the car and stood in front of her.

 

“When I get there, they had absolutely destroyed the hemline. I demanded they fix it right then and there, double-time, for half the pay.”

 

Bernadette bit her lower lip, looking at the box yet somehow afraid to touch it. Did he actually buy her a present? “And did they?”

 

“I threatened to buy the store and burn it down while making them watch. Yeah. They did it.” He removed his sunglasses and looked her in the eye.

 

“I’m sorry I’m late. This is for you.”

 

“You’re making it impossible for me to be upset with you.”

 

“Fantastic,” he said with a grin. “That’s the goal.”

 

“So a hemline, huh? You bought me a dress?”

 

Louis shook the box in front of her. “One way to find out.”

 

Reluctantly, she reached up and took the box from him. As she unwrapped the ribbon, he walked to the front doors of the building and unlocked them.

“I thought we were going out of town?” she asked.

 

“We are. I figured you’d want to change first,” he said, indicating her grey sweatpants and t-shirt.

 

“What?” she asked. “You said dress casual. This is damn casual.”

 

Louis laughed and held the door open for her. “It is indeed casual.”

 

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