Bear Prince: Shifter Paranormal Romance (Royal Bears Book 1) (3 page)

CHAPTER

3

The cab Andrew called was there in record time. Andrew instructed the driver to drive to the nearest grocery store with the specification of avoiding small corner markets. The nearest store happened to be a Whole Foods, and Hannah’s heart sank the moment the cab pulled into the parking lot.

“Andrew, I can’t… this place is too…” she stammered, afraid to tell him this place was far outside the realm of affordability.

Andrew withdrew a wallet from his pocket, stuffing a wad of bills into the driver’s hand. “Wait here.”

The cabbie glanced at the cash in his hand and shrugged. “Whatever you say, man.”

Hannah followed Andrew into the store, pausing as he snagged a shopping cart. She trailed him as he made his way around the store, worrying about his migraine, worrying about the cost of the groceries.

He shopped like a madman. She’d never purchased that amount of food before- produce, fish, gourmet breads… her mouth watered at the thought of eating something other than the ramen noodles and sandwiches that were the mainstay of her diet. Her eyes fell onto a package of croissants as they passed through the bakery toward checkout. Andrew placed it into the cart. Had he noticed her eyeing them? She couldn’t be sure. Pale eyes glanced briefly in her direction. Maybe he’d seen the hunger in her eyes. The greed.

Her back stiffened. There was nothing wrong with good Christian charity but her mother would be leery of this... excess. She opened her mouth to protest, but it had been so long since she’d tasted the buttery, flaky layers of her favorite indulgence. How could she refuse if he meant to get them for her? How
couldn’t
she refuse? If she allowed the price of her simple kindness after he’d defended her to be a month’s pay in food… what did that say about her character and the scarcity in the world of simple humane behavior?

***

Andrei smiled inwardly. He’d noticed Hannah staring at those croissants as though she might devour the entire package right there in the store. It felt good to help her. She was clearly in no shape financially to afford such luxuries for herself. At nearly six dollars for a package of four, it was a mere pittance to him, but to her, he was certain it would be a treat she’d never buy. From what he’d learned of dancers over the years, they kept to very strict diets. Hannah’s figure was curvier than most, but the lushness seemed to be her natural body type rather than a lack of exercise or poor eating habits. She was all woman, and fit. His Bear approved.
He
approved.

He could hear her stomach rumble. It wasn’t so much that her stomach was grumbling loudly; his hearing was far better than that of a human. He wondered how long it had been since she had a proper meal, especially given the fact that he could smell very little food in her tiny apartment.

They approached the checkout counters. He wondered what else she might have a craving for that she couldn’t afford, but he didn’t want to come right out and ask. He was afraid she might, at any moment, realize he was shopping more for her than himself. The last thing he wanted her to feel was like a charity case. He only meant to help her. And, if he admitted it to himself, he rather liked the feeling of being ‘domestic’. He’d spent his entire life being catered to and served. It was a pleasant change to engage in an activity as homey as grocery shopping with a beautiful woman unspoiled by life.

“Andrew,” she said, husky voice hesitant. “I really don’t need all of this. Maybe pasta and salad, but…”

He ignored her. Not that what she was saying wasn’t important, but it was her misplaced pride speaking, not common sense. In his country there were areas humans still farmed for a living, close to the land, eschewing modern luxuries for the purity of a simple life. They understood the value of aid with no strings. Accept a gift now and pay it forward later. That was what neighbors, countrymen, did.

Bear agreed.
Learn to stock food for lean winter. Silly human. Teach her.

Indeed. How many times had he wished he could shuck his crown and find a mate, settle down and raise crops? Let his Bear wander the forests deep in the mountainsides, fishing and grazing. The cubs playing in the sunlight, his mate at his side. Or home baking bread. He suppressed a grin. He did enjoy his little daydreams.

He eyed the cart. What else did women crave? Sweets, certainly, so he turned and went back to the bakery, bagging a selection of breakfast pastries while the clerk boxed a cake and few dozen of the specialty cookies according to his instructions. Hannah stared at him, liquid dark eyes wide and wary, glancing between him and the cart. Poor girl. Her thoughts passed over her face as clearly as if he’d spoken aloud.

“I hope you don’t think I’m a glutton for sweets,” he said, injecting apology into his tone. “The sugar actually helps me regain my strength after a migraine.”

That silenced her burgeoning protests- though she watched his carefully blank face closely. It wasn’t a complete lie
-
his migraine was already beginning to wane and he needed the extra calories to fuel his recovery. He looked forward to digging into the feast with her- he dreaded the thought of leaving her apartment. It must be the taste of freedom- the chance to be normal. He’d never spent time in an average home with a common woman who didn’t expect him to be Prince Andrei Sahakian. This chance to be just Andrew was priceless and he would wring every moment out of time with her that he could.

***

“Hi, how are you?”

The bright, bubbly blonde cashier at the register froze the moment her eyes fell Andrew. The girl swallowed hard. Hannah’s eyes narrowed, back stiff, though she couldn’t think of a single reason why she’d react that way to a girl she’d only just encountered. She felt almost territorial. Andrew nodded politely, but said nothing to the clerk.

“We’re fine, thank you,” Hannah said.

What was she doing? At Whole Foods shopping with a man she’d just met, didn’t know, but felt as if she’d been friends with for years… it was weird. The blonde noticed her for the first time. She glanced at Hannah, and then back at Andrew. It must have registered, finally, that the two of them were there together.

“Um… that’s great,” the cashier said.

Their groceries were scanned and bagged quickly, the girl stealing occasional glances at Andrew. Hannah bristled, then balked at her own reaction. She wasn’t married to this man, and even if she got to know him, he was clearly way out of her league. She could tell by the way he spoke, the way he carried himself, that he was different. Maybe an executive. Maybe an heir of some sort. Certainly not from America.

He was clearly in bad shape physically, even if he tried to brush it off. That was the only reason he was staying with her. The migraine had made it difficult for him to go anywhere… except to the store. Wait a minute. The more she thought about it, the more confused she grew. Why was he buying her groceries instead of going home? He’d said so they could have a quiet meal indoors together while he rested. That didn’t make any sense. Her lack of fear didn’t make any sense.

Maybe he intended to buy these groceries because he realized she had so little food and he was trying to repay her hospitality. That’s all it was. It was his misguided attempt at repaying her, when it was she who felt the need to repay him.

That meant he’d be leaving once they got back to her apartment. He’d likely help her inside with the groceries and then tell her goodbye. She’d never see him again. Hannah’s fingers clenched into a ball. She deliberately relaxed, wondering why the thought of never seeing him again sent tiny, shooting pains into her heart.

CHAPTER

4

Andrei opened the door of the cab for Hannah and then loaded the groceries into the trunk. Once the cart was returned to the corral, he returned to the car and slid in beside her. He would have to get her to relax- her posture sitting in the cab was
perfect
. Even Miahela would have been impressed. He wondered, distantly, what his sister would think of this human. And wondered what Hannah would look like standing next to his mother and sister, a modern day tiara nestled in her curls, clad in traditional Sahakian dress. She would be stunning, a goddess in the gold embroidered sapphire and purple robes.

“Back home,” Andrei said. He realized, with some degree of satisfaction, that he’d called Hannah’s apartment home as naturally as if he really lived there. Closed his eyes and imagined a life where he actually
was
returning home with his mate after an evening of mundane shopping. They would prepare dinner, eat with a glass of wine. Maybe he’d get some work done on his laptop while they chatted. After the meal a little evening television, only
one
conference call and then…

He inhaled sharply, firmly pulling his mind away from the direction it wanted to go. He couldn’t allow himself to think such thoughts. Not about this girl. He’d be leaving soon, and she clearly deserved more than a casual fling. No matter his growing desire. No matter Bear’s growing desire.

Hannah was silent as the cab wound its way through the more upscale part of the city and back toward her neighborhood. How he wished he could read minds. But he barely even picked up a scent from her. Just the natural coconut soap she’d used, and a simple lotion. Nothing… else. Disappointing. Normally a woman’s desire was the first thing he noticed about her. So many women in his life had wanted him- well, wanted Prince Andrei and the benefits of being in his bed. But this quiet beauty was worried she was taking advantage of him by accepting a week worth of groceries. He snorted. How sweet.

“Do you mind if we stop at the market on the corner?” Hannah asked as they neared her apartment. “I forgot I’m almost out of shampoo. I can walk if it’s…”

“No trouble at all,” Andrei said.

The cab pulled up to the curb outside a small, run-down market. Andrei stepped out of the cab to escort Hannah inside. He didn’t like her living in this depressed neighborhood, not a woman with an obviously soft nature.

“Hannah! Hey, girl. Haven’t seen you in a few days,” the older woman at the cash register said.

“Been busy,” Hannah said, grabbing an inexpensive bottle of shampoo and taking it to the register. “How’s Mr. Wilder doing?”

“His back’s still acting up. Who’s your friend?”

“Umm… he’s a friend of mine.”

“Friend, huh.” She leaned across the counter and lowered her voice, whispering. “Awfully fine looking man to be just a friend. You sure you know what to do with all that?”

Hannah’s head dipped as she slid a few bills under the Plexiglas. “Thank you, Mrs. Wilder,” Hannah said. “Have a nice night.”

“Not as nice as yours, I’ll bet.”

Andrei glanced down as they left, a pop of color catching his eye. The breath sucked from his lungs. A headline splashed across every tabloid by the front counter bore his picture, with the headline “Missing Prince!”

Shit.

He tugged the collar of his shirt upward in a hasty attempt to hide himself from prying eyes. A quick scan of the shelves and he grabbed a cheap pair of sunglasses and a baseball cap off a display paying for them as Hannah waited, bewildered. He pulled the cap tightly over his head and stuffed the sunglasses over his eyes before quickly ushering Hannah from the store.

The remaining ride was short. Andrei paid the cabbie and they loaded their arms with bags and lugged them up the stairs as the cab pulled away.

***

She was already heavily laden with bags of groceries, so Hannah had to sit some of the sacks down while she fumbled in her purse for her keys. She unlocked the door and retrieved her bags. Andrew carried twice what she carried as effortlessly as she might have carried her pillow. He brought the bags to the kitchen and began to put away groceries as though he’d lived there half his life. Before she could say anything, he began pulling pots and pans from the cabinets and placing them on the stove.

“I hope you like Italian food,” he said.

“I do, but…”

“I’m starving, aren’t you?” He smiled, cajoling. “You won’t tell me I can’t cook, will you?”

The gnawing ache within her felt raw and empty, but it wasn’t immediately identifiable as hunger. She sighed and slid onto a stool at the breakfast bar, watching him as he moved about the kitchen as if he belonged there. He pulled off his new cap and glasses and tossed them onto the counter before rolling up the sleeves of his shirt, revealing strong forearms lightly dusted with dark hair. She bit her lip and tried to conceal the fact that she was ogling his arms like a hussy. She peeked up at him through her lashes as she feigned interest in the phone she held in her hands.

How long was she going to let him stay in her apartment? He seemed so comfortable. She shuddered to think what her parents would say if they knew. But how could she toss him out when he might not be fully recovered from his migraine? He must need the quiet, and so far he’d behaved like the perfect gentlemen. He hadn’t even touched her once. Not a suggestive look or sultry sigh.

Her eyes followed him, admiring the way his shirt tightened over firm muscles. He glanced over his shoulder at her and she tried to pretend she hadn’t been staring. She could have sworn she noticed the corner of his lip curve upward before he turned back to his cooking.

“I’m going to go take a shower,” Hannah said, sliding off the stool. “I’ll just be a few minutes.”

“The meal will be ready when you’re done.”

The cool water of the shower was a welcoming distraction from the swarm of emotions that swirled within her brain. She leaned forward, her head resting against tiles as water streamed over her body. Her eyes closed, the picture of Andrew’s perfect back, broad shoulders, and round backside burned into her eyelids.

It would be wise to get him out of her apartment as quickly as possible. It wasn’t proper to have sensual thoughts about a man who wasn’t her husband. She’d promised her parents she would lead a life of virtue as close to their core beliefs as possible, a promise she’d made amidst the arguments and disappointment over her choice to leave.

Hannah was yanked from her thoughts by the sound of metal crashing into the floor. She stepped out of the shower, drying herself off hastily and throwing on a pair of pajamas.

“Is everything okay?” she asked.

Andrew was kneeling on the kitchen floor, scooping something into a pan with his bare hands. Hannah stepped toward him and began to bend over beside him.

“Here, let me help,” she said, reaching toward the mess on the floor.

Andrew grabbed her wrist and growled, “Stop! Hot!”

She froze, her eyes noting the appreciable amount of steam rising from what she now identified as pasta. It was the first time he’d sounded harsh with her. Pale eyes… glowed… for a split second before he veiled them with thick lashes

“But you were…”

“I have tough hands.” He shrugged, scooping the remainder of the pasta into the pot and then depositing it into the trash. “Sorry, sweet. My head just twinged for a second, took me off guard.” He stared at the floor, brooding. “They’re getting worse.”

She grabbed the pill bottle from the counter and handed it to him, watching as he dry downed two of the tablets.

“My apologies for the mess,” Andrew said. “I’ll take care of it.”

Hannah shook her head. “You’re not feeling well, I can clean it up while you lie down. Anyway, a man shouldn’t-” She stopped.

His brow quirked. “Were you going to say a man shouldn’t cook?”

Her mouth pursed. “I don’t think I ever saw my father or brothers cook anything. They did the work with the crops and animals, and my mother and I-” she faltered. There was no girl to help her mother anymore. She’d been the only daughter.

“You’re a farm girl?”

Hannah raised her eyes to Andrew’s. He sounded intrigued. By a farm girl? She shrugged. “Yup. Cows, chickens, the whole nine yards.”

“That’s wonderful.” He sounded like he meant it. What a strange man.

She busied herself with a new pot of water for the pasta. Added salt and oil. When it began to boil, Andrew dumped more pasta into the pot. It looked handmade, from a small package rather than the mass produced stuff she was used to eating. Then he lifted the lid off a pan of bubbling sauce to taste it. The smell wafted toward Hannah, who inhaled deeply. Her stomach rumbled.

“I guess I’m hungrier than I thought.”

“Eight minutes,” he promised.

He retrieved a bowl of salad from the fridge, filling two small plates already set out on the counter.

“Come,” he said. “Sit down. Green things first. Then pasta.”

He seated her at the tiny kitchen table, placing the salad plate and a fork in front of her.

She took a bite. “Mmm. This vinaigrette is tasty.”

“Homemade. My mother’s recipe.”

She took a second bite, and a third. The burst of flavors were sudden and delightful, reminding her of her mother’s kitchen garden and the fresh salads they’d had with nearly every meal. It had been weeks since she’d tasted anything so delicious.

“This is so good,” she said. “You said this is your mother’s recipe?”

“Yes.”

He was frowning at his plate, though she didn’t get the sense she’d said anything wrong. Something was bothering him, though she supposed being holed up in a strange, little apartment with a stranger would do that to anyone. She wondered how long he wanted to stay, but couldn’t quite bring herself to ask. She didn’t want to know the answer.