ROMANCE: Awakened by the Alpha Bear (Werebear Fantasy Billionaire Romance) (New Adult Contemporary Alpha Male Bear Shapeshifter Paranormal Romance Short Stories))

BOOK: ROMANCE: Awakened by the Alpha Bear (Werebear Fantasy Billionaire Romance) (New Adult Contemporary Alpha Male Bear Shapeshifter Paranormal Romance Short Stories))
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Copyright 2015 by Kylie James - All
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Awakened
by the

Alpha Bear

 

 

 

 

 

By: Kylie James

Awakened by the Alpha Bear

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One

 

“I don’t know about this, Mrs.
Wilder,” Ariel said.

“I told you, it’s Madeline,”
the older woman responded. Her dark hair a stark contrast to her very pale
skin, and gray eyes. “I know it’s a bit out of the ordinary for you, but this
is no ordinary job. You can’t decorate a house unless you know the personalities
that dwell there, can you?”

The woman did have a point.
Ariel’s green eyes squinted in concentration and she ran her manicured fingers
through her auburn waves, while puckering her pink lips. Expelling a deep
breath, she caved in. “I’ll move in tomorrow, but I don’t work past six and I
don’t work on Sundays,” she informed her new client.

Ariel Vega was an interior
decorator who sometimes dabbled in landscaping as well. Her business, being
new, she welcomed the client, especially one from such a prestigious family.
She was glad that she’d done such a fabulous job on her last assignment that
the Richardsons recommended her highly.

Now here she was, sitting
across from Madeline Wilder, the founder of the Wilder Foundation, mother of
Gael Wilder, known as the executive of the year. She’d never met Gael, but from
what she heard, he was a force to be reckoned with. He owned most of the real
estate in North Weston, Massachusetts, along with several companies that made
billions of dollars in profit. She’d seen Mikael, the younger son at a function
or two, but have yet to meet him in person.

No wonder she was shocked when
the woman walked into her living room, which she doubled as an office. The
Wilder family fortunes were well known. Madeline’s husband founded one of the
biggest pharmaceutical companies in the country. After his passing, her son
Gael took up the reigns of the business and it seemed their fame and fortunes
exploded tenfold.

“Okay, I’ll have them ready
your suite. I’ll put you in the west wing. You’ll have the entire floor all to
yourself,” Madeline smiled and stood.

Ariel reached out her hand and
the woman took it, shaking it briskly, “Thank you, I’ll do my best,” Ariel said
to her.

“I know you will,” the woman
replied, turned and walked out the door.

A suite?  
Ariel
asked herself. She knew that the family lived in a mansion, but she had no idea
how huge it was. A room was what she expected, not an entire floor!

This was an unusual assignment,
but what was she to do? This was the Wilder mansion and her job was to decorate
every part of it. The pay alone from this gig could support her for an entire
year and give her a vacation to boot. She could easily pay off her student
loan, buy a new car and put something away for a rainy day. Good thing she had the
penthouse her mother left her, so she didn’t have to worry about rent.

Her mother died of cancer two
years prior when she was just finishing college. There was no money left after
her mother’s cancer treatments so she had to make do on her own. There was no
money to rent an office, but she liked working from home. There was more than
enough space for her to do whatever she needed to do.

After Madeline left, she
gathered all her color swatches, fabric samples, catalogues, sketchpad,
notebooks, pastels and everything she could think of. By the time she was done,
the living room looked a mess. She had to pack the stuff in boxes and placed
them in the car. Next on the agenda was gathering a few items of clothing. She
had no idea what to pack, so she threw in a few pairs of jeans, t-shirts and
sweaters.

She then rifled through her
closet and chose a cocktail dress, just in case, and a couple of dresses, to
wear at the dinner table. Madeline promised that she would be a working guest
and she would be expected to have dinner with the family.

She had no idea how long this
particular job would take, so she threw in a few more pieces of clothing and
finally, her underwear. She must admit that she had nothing fancy enough for a
Wilder function, and perhaps her clothes were far too casual for even their
dinner table, but they had to suffice. She was there to work, not gallivant.
The best thing she had was the jade green cocktail dress and matching shoes,
but she doubted she’d get a chance to wear it.

It took about an hour to gather
her things. By her estimation, it may take up to three months, maybe more, to
complete the decor and whatever renovations were needed in the mansion. She was
not looking forward to it, but she was grateful for the opportunity.

She took a shower, had some
cereal and went to bed. Tomorrow was going to be a long day.

 

Two

 

She left Brighton at about
seven in the morning, turned onto Washington Street, which led her onto The
Massachusetts Turnpike. Then she travelled west, and then north which led to
the Wilder estate. She had some clue that she was venturing into unknown
territory and she dreaded what she may find. Within ten minutes, she was inside
Weston, and it took her an additional fifteen minutes to get to her
destination.

After getting into Weston, she
stopped once to check the address again. Heading north, the houses got thinner
and for about a mile there were no houses visible. There were no detours or
side roads and it took her a moment to realize she was actually on Wilder
property.

As she reached the entrance to
the residence, at which was stationed a security post, the huge white iron gate
opened and a Jaguar shot through. She barely got a glimpse of a dark hair
person behind the wheel.

“Can I help you, ma’am?” the
security personnel walked over as she slowed her Nissan.

“I’m Ariel, Madeline is
expecting me,” she replied.

He waved her through and she
slowly ascended the rest of the drive. It wasn’t a mansion, more like a palace!
She gasped at the enormity of the white building that stood before her. She
could easily get lost in it, and briefly wondered if there was an elevator
somewhere in there. From her uninformed calculations, there must be six floors
there.

She parked close to the front,
not knowing where to hide her five-year-old Nissan, which stuck out like a sore
thumb beside the splendidly manicured front garden. Everything looked like a
fairy-tale from the outside and she felt like Cinderella. Even the buzzer was
made of glass, which she hesitantly pressed, expecting a handsome prince to pop
out of nowhere.

Her heart was racing at a
million miles per hour as she waited the couple minutes for the huge double
doors to open. A man, probably in his late forties, exceptionally groomed,
opened the door.

“Welcome Mizz Vega, Madam is
expecting you,” his accent was weird, a cross between French and British. She
suspected him to be an American.

“Thank you, and it’s Ariel,”
she smiled. The man’s eyes twinkled at her but he kept his stoned expression as
if forbidden to show any emotion.

He led her through the large
portico and into the reception room. Ariel was surprised and delighted that the
place had a ghastly décor. She could see why Madeline was so adamant about
changing the entire look of the home. She could not describe how distasteful
the furniture and wallpaper were.

“Who the hell decorated this?”
she murmured to herself.

She was engrossed in her
scrutiny while she moved around the room, her creative mind working at top
speed. She took out the notepad she carried in her handbag and started making
notes.

“What the hell?” She bumped
into something hard, and a gruff voice broke through her planning.

“I’m sorry,” she raised her
eyes and met steely gray ones.

“Who the hell are you? For the
umpteenth time, no reporters!” With that, he grabbed her arm and propelled her
through the entrance she came earlier.

She tried to pull away, but his
grip was too firm, “Let me go, how dare you manhandle me!”

“I’ll handle you anyway I like.
I hate reporters,” they’d reached the front door. “Is that your…
car
? Get
it off my property and take yourself with it!” He shoved her through the door
and was about to lock it when Madeline appeared.

“Gael! What are you doing?” She
asked.

“Getting rid of the garbage
Mom, you know I hate reporters,” he answered.

He towered Madeline as Ariel
watched in fury. His eyes bore their steely cold presence into her soul as he
never once took his eyes off her. Gael was every bit the aggressive man she’d
heard so much about. His stature was built to intimidate, but Ariel was no pushover.
She estimated him to be about six feet three inches.

She had a mind to get into her
car and drive back to Brighton and to hell with this job.  His mother spoke
quietly to him, at which he turned and walked away. She watched him retreat,
his muscular arms and shoulders bulging beneath the dark jacket of his suit.

“Come Ariel,” Madeline cajoled
with an apologetic look.

She was seething inside and her
hand smarted where Gael had gripped her so firmly. How could he think her a
reporter?

“Don’t mind Gael, he spends
most of his time at the office and when he is here, he’s in his study,” the
woman told her.

She led her into her own little
studio off the portico. This was where Madeline spent her time when she was not
organizing charitable events for her foundation. There were paintings leant
against the walls. They seemed to be children’s paintings, but the woman
proudly exclaimed that she was dabbling and these were her handy work. She,
herself, was an art student and could see that Madeline and recently taken up
art as a hobby.

They spoke about the house, and
Ariel gave her some ideas for the reception area. The hard parts would be
redoing the bedrooms and Gael’s study.

“He’s somewhat of a…,” she
could not seem to find the words to describe her son.

Jerk?
 Ariel
wanted to say, but instead, “Tough guy?”

“Yes, that’s it. He’s quite the
macho man, he hates girly stuff and he hates the fact that I’m redoing the
house, so he’s going to give you a hard time. Now Mikael is another matter,
he’s quite the sweetheart, so you watch out for him, he has a thing for
beautiful women,” Madeline blinked one eye at her.

Was that a compliment from
Madeline to say that she was pretty? Ariel never thought of herself as
beautiful, attractive yes…but, then she got an answer when the woman added,
“Not that you have anything to worry about.”

They talked about the plans for
the house and that each room needed a makeover. Some rooms would be totally
renovated, including cupboard spaces and bathroom. By the time they finished
their little meeting Ariel was convinced that she would be old before returning
to Brighton. There were at least five floors of living spaces, the ground floor
and an attic! How would she get through all that?

“Oh, we need to discuss the
gardens as well, but you settle in today and we’ll talk about that at a later
date,” Madeline added as Ariel got up to leave.

“The gardens?” she asked.

That was not in the original
agreement. Though they hadn’t settled on a fee, doing the landscaping would see
her living at the mansion for at least nine months. When she packed the night
before she had planned on three months at the most.

“Yes, I’ll need a new coy pond
out back and a really nice waterfall. Do you think you can manage that?”

Ariel shook her head and left.
She was in a daze. She had help in the form her freelance work crew. She’d
called them up the night before and they all jumped at the opportunity to work
with her, but the work was enormous and she was not looking forward to spending
that many months under the same roof as the ‘master of the mansion’, Gael.

The butler was waiting for her
to take her to her suite. As he mounted the enormously winding staircase a man
dressed in slacks and a white shirt with sleeves rolled up to his elbows was
descending. His dark hair was neatly cropped and soft blue grey eyes appraised
her. She breathed a sigh of relief when she realized it was not Gael, but his
younger brother Mikael.

“Hi, you must be the designer,
I’m Mikael,” he took her hand, though she never offered it. “Wow, a flower
among the thorns,” he added.

She could see why he was such a
hit with the ladies, he had that special charm she so recognized, but it did
nothing for her. Maybe she would have been more affected by him had they met in
neutral territory.

“Ariel,” she offered.

As if sensing someone she
looked up and met those hard gray eyes and felt a rush of hot liquid run up her
neck, scorching her cheeks. He was just standing there staring at her with a
dark look on his face. His angular jaw was set and she could see his jawline
clench and unclench beneath the day old growth of hair on his face. He would
have been quite handsome had it not been for his angry look he gave her.

What the hell was he staring
at? She wanted to scream. Her pulses quickened as she remembered how he handled
her earlier, and her anger flared. She could feel her ears getting hot and
wondered if steam was coming from them.

He descended purposefully, each
stride like an animal about to devour its prey, “You’re still here,” Gael
stared pointedly at her, his voice wrought with venom.

“Excuse me?” Ariel asked.

He walked passed her without a
word while Mikael dropped her hand and followed. Ariel wanted to scream at him,
but she restrained herself. After all, she was a guest in his house and she
really wanted to make a good impression on Madeline. If she did a good job,
there was no telling how many of her rich friends she would send her way.

She followed the butler up the
stairs and she could feel both pairs of eyes on her, but for some reason she
knew that only one pair was admiring her butt.  The suite of rooms Madeline
gave her consisted of her own living room, bathroom and bedroom. The furniture
was nice, but the wallpaper seemed to be peeling. There was also a little nook
with bookshelves.

She spent about an hour in her
‘suite’, thinking about her next move and unpacking her boxes. By the time she
was done, her main room looked like a studio with swatches, fabrics and
sketchpads all over the place.

Her imagination was limited,
with no idea of the rooms in the mansion so her next move was to take a tour.
The butler already told her which floors were occupied by the men and which was
Madeline’s so she knew where to avoid. She was staying on the fourth floor,
with Mikael on the third, Madeline on the second and Gael on the fifth. That
left the attic on top.

The floor above the ground was
where she started, there were just a few guest rooms there, no suits and a set
of offices. She could easily tell Madeline’s office because it had more flair
and drama. Her pink cushions on her plush beige daybed, and of course a huge
painting of her and her late husband gave it away.

Next was a huge study with
wall-to-wall bookshelves, a super huge mahogany desk, black leather armchairs
and a shelf dedicated to trophies. Curious, she ventured in. The trophies were
for various sporting activities including soccer, swimming and kayaking.

“It’s you again,” she turned at
the now familiar voice.

His mood seemed to have
mellowed a bit, but his manners quite lacking, “Sorry, I didn’t know anyone was
in here, she moved to exit but he was blocking her path.

His presence was so poignant
that she felt a bit scared. She gave herself a mental shake and reminded
herself that she was never scared of anything. There was something about him,
maybe his male scent which penetrated her nostrils or his heat, which she could
feel a foot away, that made her step back.

Gael stepped forward, liking
that he was making her uneasy. He found himself unusually intrigued by her
green eyes and obvious feistiness. It angered him a bit, that she took him by
surprise with her presence that morning. He was used to scouting the prey
beforehand and timely capturing them. With her, it was not so, when he gripped
her arm that morning, her scent penetrated his senses awakening the animal in
him. He’d never felt it that with a mere woman before.

“Scared?” he smirked, admiring
the way he affected her, even if it was in anger.

“Why would I be scared?” Ariel
asked, infuriated that he was blocking her from leaving. “Let me pass.”

“And if I don’t?” Her back was
now against the desk and he was dauntingly towering her. She surmised that this
was his study, it reeked of him.

“Then I’ll just have to paint
this room in pink,” she looked around the room and smiled. “You’d hate that,
wouldn’t you?”

“You wouldn’t dare,” he growled
in a low tone.

“Try me. Now move,” she stated
firmly.

He stepped aside and she
retreated quickly, her heart racing at a million miles per second. She made a
mental note never to venture into that study unless she was certain that Gael
was not home.

It was Thursday, her first day
at the Wilder mansion and she’d already made an enemy. However, she was
determined to make the most of it. She told herself that she’d be civil to him
as long as she was under the same roof; it was his house after all.

Ariel spent the rest of the
afternoon taking notes. She’d skipped lunch and dinner was just her and
Madeline. Apparently, the boys had gone out and would not be back until later
that night. There were two dining areas, one reserved for dinner parties and
another room, closer to the kitchen was where the family sat together. She
could see this was a recent addition, as the room looked recently painted.

After dinner, Madeline
retreated to her studio and Ariel was left to her own devices. She took a bath,
scrubbing her pale skin until pink and glowing.  She also took the opportunity
to wash her hair. It was summer and the temperature had risen above the
eighties, so she donned a yellow chiffon dress that had belonged to her mother.

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