ROMANCE: Bear Naked Passion (Billionaire Bear Trio Book 2) (5 page)

“Yes. I know Grace quite well.”

“Grace?” Her forehead wrinkled and he waited her out, knowing she’d connect the threads eventually. Sooner rather than later, he was certain. She was a highly intelligent woman. “Aunt Grace?”

He nodded, leaning casually against the wall of the main living area of the suite, a room away from her. She stayed right by the door, twitchy but not ready to run yet. He needed to make sure she wouldn’t.

“You’re not the ‘fine young man
’
that my aunt keeps talking about, are you? You run a beer, cheese, and wine shop?”

“I do.” It was one of many businesses he owned, and when he’d been told his mate was in Milwaukee, it hadn’t been hard to establish a presence there and his shop did a wonderful business.

“Oh. Then I guess you’re not exactly a stranger,” Heather said. “She’s told me about the wonderful guy who lets her knitting group meet there for ‘Wine Stitch Wednesdays,’ is that you?”

“It is,” Dante replied. “Grace is a lovely lady and she her friends helped the shop turn a profit on their quietest days. She’s also running a book club there on Thursday nights. She’s one of my most loyal and treasured customers.”

Heather was starting to relax; Dante could sense it. “So why, then, are you in Vegas the same week I am? That’s a little…strange.”

She had no idea just how strange things were likely to get for her, and how her world was about to change. He gave her an indulgent smile, waiting a few moments before answering. The unspoken language, Dante found, was often the most loud and most resonant.

Heather was speaking volumes. The way she looked at him, assessing him all the while, spoke of her intellect and problem-solving abilities, while her wariness telegraphed healthy caution. He wouldn’t have expected any differently from someone he was to be mated to.

“I had some frequent traveler miles and your aunt suggested I come out. I managed to get a suite and I was looking for you. She speaks so glowingly about you that I wanted to meet you and spend some time together.”

“Oh.” That single word spoke volumes as well. She was clearly telegraphing her thoughts, letting him know that she always compared herself to her friends, and many times, she came up lacking. Not to him and not in his world. Her curves would be revered just as much as her intellect.

“Is it so hard to believe a handsome man might want to spend time with a beautiful woman?”

“I guess not.” She still seemed unconvinced and he moved closer, step by measured step, as if he was gentling a wild animal and not trying to become very intimately acquainted with his mate.

“Heather, I know enough to realize Jake is not the man for you. Do you want that life with him? Do you need him to be the one you take care of, or are you ready for a different kind of relationship, even if it isn’t with him?”

Her eyes widened at that. “He’s a robe.” She said, and Dante just watched her, not following her train of thought.

“A robe?”

Heather threw up her hands into the air and started pacing. “A robe. One of those threadbare, comfortable, a robe you’d never take out of the house, but when you’re depressed, you put it on and it feels right. Do you know what I mean?”

He thought he did, and nodded. “Who is the robe then? Jake?’

“Yeah.”

“Robes are okay,” he agreed with a nod. “But do you want that same threadbare robe in your life when you’re seventy?” Or a hundred seventy, he added silently. “Wouldn’t you rather have a little black dress that makes you feel sexy and empowered? Possibly with a pair of red pumps that you’d look phenomenal in? Wouldn’t that be much more exciting in the end?”

He knew she was thinking of this whole robe analogy hard, when she leaned back against the door and stared at the ceiling of the suite. “I’d love a little black dress, but I’m not sure I’m the type.”

“Can you be sure? Don’t settle for the robe without trying on the little black dress and those great shoes.”

“Do you know where I can find one?” she asked in a whisper.

“Right here.”

Had he really said that? Heather figured she had to be mistaken; there was no little black dress around, literally or figuratively. If he was a piece of clothing, he’d be…Gosh; she couldn’t even begin to suggest what he’d be. But it would be expensive and probably from a designer she only heard of in passing. And way,
way
out of her price range, financially or emotionally. Because if he was saying what she thought he was, there was just no way. He was so far beyond her league that it didn’t even bear discussion. It was like putting that threadbare robe with those pumps she could only imagine on her feet.

“What are you saying?
”
she asked, willing him to just spell it out.

“I’m your little black dress. Try me on.”

The word filtered into her mind and Heather swallowed hard, the adrenaline and something else entirely mixing. She swayed before resting against the door with a little
thunk
, the force of her arousal taking her by surprise. This didn’t happen to her. It just didn’t. She was a slow burn and the flame out girl, not a raging inferno begging to be stoked.

Or stroked. God, those long fingers would feel like heaven on her. Wait! What was she thinking?!?

Stop that!

“Stop what?” he asked, examining his hand as if he’d known what she was thinking. But wait, had she told him to stop it or herself? She had no idea any more.

“Do you have some water?” she asked, frantic for something to drink. Maybe she’d had too much alcohol or maybe not enough water beforehand. Weren’t the stories that you should drink a glass of water with every drink to stave off drunkenness? Yeah, she hadn’t done that at all. There had been wine with dinner, and mixed cocktails afterward, and a combination of the two at the club and…

Yeah, that was it. She was clearly very, very drunk.

“You’re not, but if you’d like some water, I can get some for you.”

There it was; he’d answered a question she hadn’t thought she’d asked. Or in this case, she’d known she hadn’t asked it. “Who are you?”

“Dante Ford,” he said easily. Too easily; there was something she was missing here, something very important.

“What are you, then?’ she asked quietly.

Bingo! She’d hit on something there. His eyes widened for just a moment, but she’d been staring at him so intently that she hadn’t missed that look.

“Yours for the taking,” he told her, opening his arms up. That wasn’t the entirety of the answer, but it was enough for now. It had to be enough for now, because if she didn’t sooth the shockwaves of desire running through her body, she was done for.

“And what does that mean?
”
she asked, hating the way her voice sounded so breathless and needy.

“Exactly what it sounds like it means. One night only or longer if you like. Shouldn’t you try the black dress on for size before settling for a lifetime with a holey yet comfortable-enough robe that could fall apart in a couple of years? It may convince you that the robe was at the end of its life.”

She hated that he was right, but she understood where he was coming from. “I want to try on the dress.”

“Good answer,” he whispered. He flicked a switch and music started playing, something romantic and jazzy she hadn’t heard before. She glanced over to the couch and saw a boom box there. Nice touch, hotel! Or was this Dante’s choice? Somehow she had a feeling it was more of the latter and less of the former.

“Dance with me,” he said quietly, reaching for her hand. She slipped hers into his much larger one and he pulled her close, one hand resting on her lower back. She leaned in, accepting his embrace, her body already out of control. She wanted to plaster herself to his chest, to devour him inside and out, to merge to…

Oh God. There it was, he had an erection and it felt so much thicker than Jake’s. She wasn’t marrying Jake for his sexual prowess or his anatomical size but…whoa, this felt impressive.

Heather pressed inward a little bit, craving the feel of him—all of him, not just the ridge she could feel through their clothes. Dante rubbed her back and she nestled in surer in this moment than any that this would be perfect. That she needed to do this for her own sanity, for…

Her future.

Ahead of her were two paths. The safe robe fluttered in the horizon, and in the other, a black dress, red shoes, and all sorts of possibilities.

“I won’t make love to another man’s woman,” Dante said to her, pulling back and taking her hand. “I will not have you wear this ring while with me.”

He gave her a significant look and she nodded, taking the ring off and handing it to him. She’d made her decision; she just didn’t know what it all meant.

Dante broke away from her and placed the ring carefully down by the boom box. “If you want this afterward, I won’t say no. You can take it and leave and we’ll never speak of it again. But if you do want it, we cannot be together. This is your choice. And if you want to leave me afterward, you have free will.” He flashed her little smile. “Though I hope you won’t go. I need you here with me, Heather. I can give you the world.”

She sighed, almost wondering if she’d misheard him. That was a line out of a movie, nothing that a flesh-and-blood man would utter to a rather average woman. Like her. What was in it for him?

“Who are you?” she asked, repeating her line from earlier. It was vital that she learned whatever she was missing before taking the plunge. Literally.

“Dante Ford,” he repeated quietly. “From Milwaukee.”

“Why me?” This was so frustrating. If he didn’t give her a true answer, she’d just walk right on out that door.

“Because we’re meant to be,” he said quietly and she had a vision of him with much shorter hair standing on a cliff, tears running down his face.

“Go figure?” she said, not sure what she was asking. The image had thrown her a bit, and she wasn’t sure what it meant. Had she had a dream about him, or what?

“Open your mind,” he told her. What the hell did that mean? How did one open a mind, anyway? Was he telling her to explore options or not be so stringent in what she thought?

“Here, I’ll help you.”

Dante took Heather’s hand and led her deeper into the suite, into the bedroom. “Have a seat,” he told her, patting the bed. She sank down into the pillowy surface and he knelt before her. “Just look into my eyes, Heather. Don’t let go of my hand. I promise, it will make sense to you.”

She stared at his eyes, noting the miniscule flecks of gold in them that brightened the near-black to a dynamic brown.

“There, relax.”

Heather felt something inside her break apart and suddenly she was swamped with images, scenes—memories? There was Dante in all of them, sometimes dressed in a Roman outfit, others in a kilt or chainmail, in old-fashioned woven clothes, in dusty leather. And there was a woman at his side. Sometimes she looked different, but there was something innately “Heather” about all of them. Without understanding or even a general sense of what was transpiring, she pulled her hand out of his, cradling it to her chest.

“I need…”

“Water?” he asked, and she fanned her face, unable to reply quite yet. This was all too much, all shaking her foundations on the night she needed them to be shored up.

“Please?” Heather glanced over to the outer room, wondering if she ought to make a run for it. That would make the most sense; put space between her and this strange man, to just go back to the robe rather than looking ridiculous in the hot black dress.

Safety or the unknown, which way to turn?

“You can leave if you want,” Dante said conversationally. He was crouched in front of the bar fridge, hair shining glossy on his shoulders, back solid and broad. He represented not only a beautiful dress but safety.

Yes, safety.

He handed Heather her water and they both winced when her cell phone rang. “It’s in my purse,” she told him, not sure exactly sure where her purse had gone, or even if she’d brought it along with her. She had to have if the cell phone was ringing, right?

“I’ll get it for you,” Dante promised, rising and handing her water before going in search of her purse.

“The person hung up before I could open your purse,” he told her apologetically.

“It’s okay.” How could her voice seem so calm? She uncapped the water and took a swallow first, then handed the bottle off to Dante and pulled her cell phone out of her purse. “One missed call. Shelly. She’s probably just worried about me. Let me listen to her voicemail.”

“By all means.”

Heather didn’t know why she did it, but she put the phone on speaker, so that Dante could hear the message as well.

“Heath, know you were kind of out of sorts down here. Sorry about that, you know how Pat and Tanya like to get loud and add Roxi in and we have a big mess of dancing, and drinking and stuff. Anyway, I just got a call from Steve, and he said Jake got arrested. He um…got way too close and personal with one of the dancers at the club they were at, and he got his sorry drunken ass arrested for assault. Can you believe it? I’m sorry, hon. This is the last thing you need tonight, but I wanted you to know. Steve will be in touch about bail and all. I guess you’re paying it, huh? Sorry, sweetie. Love you.”