Billion Dollar Bear Read online

  Catherine Vale

  Billion Dollar Bear

  A BBW Dragon Paranormal Shifter Romance

  Copyright © 2016, Catherine Vale

  Published by Wild Hearts Press

  Website: http://www.CatherineVale.com

  All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.

  This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, locations, brands, incidents, and places are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction. The publication/use of these trademarks is not associated with or sponsored by the trademark owners.

  This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This book may not be resold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favorite book retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

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  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  About The Author

  Other Books By Catherine Vale

  Dragon Swag Giveaway

  Chapter One

  Going on a date was the absolutely last thing Jericho wanted to do right now.

  Grimacing, he adjusted the cufflinks on his deep red shirt. Emerson, his second-in-command, had informed him that red was Ravena’s favorite color, and had insisted he wear it in order to impress the she-bear. He glanced up at the full-length mirror in his bedroom and winced – he looked like some kind of wannabe Casanova, with his brown hair cut short, and the red shirt tucked neatly into a pair of slacks that were a little tighter than the ones he normally wore.

  All I need is a corsage, and I’ll look like a complete idiot.

  He turned to find a matching jacket lay across the back of a nearby chair, waiting for him to slip it on – and as predicted, a corsage lay on a nearby table, waiting to be pinned.

  Of course.

  This was definitely not his style, both in the type of clothing, and in his caring about impressing a woman with what he was wearing. He was impressive enough on his own. He was young, successful, and the alpha of a prosperous clan. What more could the she-bear possibly want?

  “Jericho? You almost ready in there? You’re going to be late…”

  Jericho bit back a growl at the sound of Emerson’s voice. He’d thrown his second-in-command out of the room in order to get ready, but he knew the bear was waiting just outside the door, anxious to get him out of the door, and one step closer to being mated to a woman the clan felt would be a perfect match.

  And by perfect match, they simply meant royal were-bears line, and family history. It had nothing to do with chemistry, attraction, or interest between him and this woman. He knew it was his responsibility to mate with someone that the clan would be comfortable with, whether he liked her or not, but damn, he hoped they could at least learn to like one another.

  “Give me a minute,” Jericho bit out, picking the jacket up off the chair and shrugging it over his shoulders. Buttoning it up, he muttered curses under his breath, wondering why on earth he’d allowed Emerson to choose the outfit in the first place. For God’s sake, he was the clan alpha – surely he was allowed to decide what to wear on any occasion, even one as important as this? He should toss the entire outfit aside, and choose a more sensible set from the myriad of suits and shirts lining his expansive closet.

  With a sigh, he reached for the corsage, and pinned it in place, knowing he couldn’t do that to Emerson. What he wore, and how he acted tonight didn’t just represent what Emerson wanted, but the best interests of the clan as a whole. He needed to mate with a strong she-bear in order to solidify the clan’s position, and it was well past time that he did so. Emerson was simply trying to make sure the courtship went as smoothly as possible, and he couldn’t fault his friend for looking out for the clan – and for Jericho.

  Still, the idea of mating himself to a she-bear he hardly knew made his skin crawl.

  Oh come on, a hopeful voice said encouragingly in his head. Maybe you’ll actually like her.

  Jericho chuckled at himself. He wasn’t exactly going to hold out hope for that. He’d met Ravena a handful of times while negotiating with the Kamchatka clan, and she’d struck him as cold and as cunning as her father, alpha Sergei Hastings.

  It could all be an act. You know, keep up appearances in front of the clan. Maybe she’s really warm, and softhearted underneath that tough exterior.

  “Jericho! We really have to get going.”

  Growling, Jericho stalked to the smoke-grey double doors and flung them open, letting Emerson into the room. “Does this work for you?” he said tightly, flinging out his arms as though he was expecting to get patted down.

  Arching a blonde brow, Emerson scanned him from head to toe with a critical eye. “Not bad,” he admitted with a grin, his pale green eyes gleaming in approval. He stepped forward to adjust the corsage, and then frowned as his gaze dropped down. “Where’s your family ring?”

  “I don’t want – ”

  Emerson raised a brow, and crossed his burly arms over his chest. He was dressed in a simple dark suit and tie, much like the kind of thing Jericho would have preferred to wear, but the suit did nothing to hide the massive strength and power in his body. He looked much more like a bodyguard than a chauffeur, the role he was intending to play tonight. And Jericho had no doubt that if he were anyone other than alpha, Emerson would be using those muscles to wrestle the family ring onto his finger.

  “Fine.” Cursing, Jericho stalked over to his closet. Flipping the light on, he moved to the back of the closet and, after some rummaging, retrieved the black velvet box where the heavy gold signet ring lay. The sole symbol was a bear fang-shaped ruby set in a circle of gold – symbolic of the Moon Bay clan, founded by his great-grandfather, over a hundred years ago in Italy.

  The ring had then been passed down to him by his father, and was a constant reminder of his father’s death. He avoided it at all costs, not because he missed his father so much, but because it brought back a thousand memories of sleepless nights when he was awoken to the sound of his parents arguing, his father always seeming to be angry at one thing or another. Perhaps it was the stress of being alpha that caused him to lash out at his family, but Jericho could not forget, nor could he forgive, even after his death.

  Resisting the urge to toss the ring against the wall, he reluctantly slid it onto his ring finger, then returned to Emerson and held it out.

  Emerson nodded, sadly. “Yeah, I know.” His eyes gleamed with approval and respect, which told Jericho that
Emerson knew the emotional sacrifice he was making, and appreciated it. “Now let’s get going before we really are late.”

  * * *

  Jericho took a deep breath as Emerson pulled up alongside the three-story red-brick Lake View mansion the Hastings’s called home. He’d never actually been to Sergei’s residence before, and was surprised the man had chosen such a warm looking dwelling to call home. The warm glow of lamps spilled out from the mullioned-windows, highlighting the reddish-brown bricks that made up the structure, and calling attention to the two chimney stacks that ran up the façade of the house on either side, jutting out past the slate roof. It was the home of a family man, not a ruthless chieftain with a taste for blood.

  But then, he supposed Sergei might think of himself as a family man. After all, he had a mate and several children of his own. A fact that likely made the alpha think himself a few steps above Jericho.

  Gritting his teeth, Jericho opened the passenger side door. “Don’t forget the flowers,” Emerson chuckled quietly, and Jericho growled in response, as he reached behind to snatch the bouquet of blood-red roses – apparently, another favorite of Ravena’s – before exiting the vehicle. Once on the street, and in sight of whoever might be watching from the windows, he smoothed the ire from his expression and approached the door, leaving Emerson waiting beside the car.

  Holding the flowers as a sort of shield in front of him, he pressed the doorbell, his sensitive ears picking up on the bell-like ‘gong’ that reverberated throughout the inside of the house – a sound which he found quite ostentatious.

  The door opened to reveal one of Sergei’s bears, a brown-haired, muscular man wearing a butler’s uniform. His blue eyes were frosty, but his thin lips curved into a polite smile as he regarded Jericho. “Welcome to the Hastings household, Mr. Knight. Please, come in and allow me to call Ravena down for you.” A hint of a Russian accent flowed through his words.

  “Thank you.” Biting back a sigh, Jericho stepped into the foyer, already tired of the pomp and ceremony. He would bet money that Ravena was quite aware of his presence already, but he allowed the butler to see to his duty and fetch his date. While he waited, he scanned the foyer, once again marveling at the old-world décor that Sergei had chosen.

  A beautiful chandelier hung from the ceiling, illuminating the dark wood paneling the walls and casting a shadow on the rich, emerald green carpet beneath his feet. A large mahogany table that supported an ornate floral arrangement, clearly meant to draw the eye, and discourage ocular wandering to the rooms beyond, dominated the center of the foyer. A coat rack stood to his left, and a gleaming mahogany table to his right, no doubt where guests could leave their purses and bags, and other belongings during social gatherings.

  He wondered what kind of social gatherings a man like Sergei might host. Then again, it was probably only Ravena who entertained that kind of company – ever the socialite.

  The creak of footsteps at the top of the stairs beyond caught his attention, followed by the faint scent of some kind of expensive French perfume, mixed with Ravena’s own darkly feminine scent. He imagined the combination was deeply seductive to most men, and felt the requisite stirring in his loins.

  After all, he was a man. Or at least part of him was.

  The first glimpse of Ravena was that of a long, toned leg and gleaming red heel that, for a moment, had him wondering just how short her dress was. But as she took another step, a swathe of silky red appeared, briefly covering the leg until she took another step with it, and he realized there was simply a slit in the dress.

  Swish, swish, swish. She glided down the stairs with deliberate grace and panache, revealing the rest of her body in a lengthy manner that made his beast stir within. Gradually, the sweetheart-shaped bodice of the red satin dress appeared, exposing a generous amount of cleavage, followed by a swan-like neck draped in a ruby choker. The elegant bones of her face finally appeared – a face most would consider stunning, but that was just a little too sharp-edged for his liking.

  “Jericho,” she purred with a familiarity that unsettled him once she alighted the stairs, the butler close behind. She inclined her head, the mass of blonde curls piled atop her head in an elaborate up-do gleaming in the light cast by the chandelier.

  “Ms. Hastings,” he said softly, inclining his head respectfully.

  “Please,” she laughed, a tinkling sound that sounded like crystal glasses clinking together. “Call me Ravena.”

  “You got it, Ravena...” He said it as though he were tasting her name on his lips, and was about to offer his arm so he could usher her out the door, when he remembered the roses in his hands. “For you,” he said, forcing a smile as he handed them over. “So I hear you love roses?”

  “Oh, yes, how lovely. What girl doesn’t?” Her eyes gleamed, not exactly with pleasure, but rather a kind of triumph, as though she’d won some kind of small victory. His back stiffened, and he forced himself to relax as he watched her bury her perfectly straight nose into the flowers. “Thank you so much.” She handed them off to the butler so he could put them in a vase of water.

  “Are you ready to go?” Jericho asked her with measured patience.

  “I am,” Ravena replied, a gleam in her eye as she surveyed her date from head to toe. He helped Ravena into her coat, then offered her his arm and led her down the steps to the waiting car. Emerson greeted her, holding the door open as they made their way into the vehicle before he returned to the driver’s seat.

  As they drove off, Jericho saw the non-descript sedan that had been parked a few cars away slide effortlessly into traffic behind him – Ravena’s bodyguards. And as Ravena already began to sidle up to him in the confines of the car, he knew this was going to be a very, very long night.

  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.