ROMANCE: LION SHIFTER ROMANCE: Luring The Lion (Lion Shapeshifter Paranormal Fantasy Romance) (BBW Lion Shifter Romance) (10 page)

    Jake understood the significance of it.  “Okay,” he said as he put on the skates.  He was always a good athlete, and never backed down from a challenge, but when he walked out onto the ice, he found it difficult to keep his balance.  “This isn’t as easy as you make it look.”

    “You are telling that to someone who got seriously injured from falling,” she said, as the irony was not lost on her.  “But I would do it all over again if it would make me see the light, and show me how much I do need you in my life.” 

    Katie stood on the end of the rink seemingly glowing with beauty, as the light reflected off the ice.  To Jake, she looked more precious than ever because of how humble and genuine her spirit had now become.

    “I’m going to teach you a few things,” said Katie.  “First, just try walking around, trying to keep your balance.”

    “Okay, I can do this, now what?”

    “Now just try gliding, slowly at first and then pick up speed if you feel comfortable.  The hardest part about learning to skate is finding a good coach, you know.  And you have the best.”

    Jake liked that.  “You really are the best.  Katie this is what you are going to do.  You are going to be a coach.  You will be back on the ice!”

    “Ya, that sounds right,” replied Katie as she felt grateful.  “I’m coming out.”

Katie wasn’t wearing her skates, but she walked slowly out onto the rink.  She walked into Jake’s arms.  He embraced her and they hugged on the ice.  The perfect moment turned into minutes and then a beautiful night, worthy of the wedding the next day.

    The following evening, on a small hill overlooking a valley, Katie and Jake stood waiting to exchange vows.  There were only a few guests in attendance.  But they were all genuine friends of Katie and Jake, and that is what mattered. 

After they professed their love for each other and became officially married, Jake grabbed Katie’s hand and turned her around to face the valley.  The sun was just about to set.

    “We have seen views just like this one before, haven’t we Katie?”  Jake thought back to that night in the alps under the stars.

    “Yes we have, and do you remember what you asked me on the night we first met?”

    Jake smiled in remembrance.  “And when you look on your future, what does it look like?”

    Katie didn't hesitate. “It looks pretty good Jake, pretty good indeed.”

*****

THE END

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BONUS BOOK 3

Love Set In Stone

A Billionaire BWWM BBW Romance

Diane Greenstone

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Love Set In Stone

Marissa sighed.  Another day, another shift at her job at the local café that she worked at.  She was mainly doing this job because she didn’t feel secure about wanting to go into modeling.  She looked at the trendy French girls coming in, the guys who would fawn all over them and have their photos taken with them, but then, she realized that she would never have that.  She just worked in some café in Paris, and as she looked out the window with the Eiffel Tower in the distance, she could see the young people all gathering around one another on the street corner.  Most of them spoke French, and she could hear the din of their chatter while she made someone another espresso.

“Merci,”
the customer in front of her said in a blunt manner.

The customer ran off before she could say anything else.  Great, she thought, another person with their head stuck up their ass.  She came here about three years ago as an exchange student, and she decided that after she got her degree in business, she would come back over.  She did so, but when she got here, she was too afraid to go through with her desires.  She wanted to be more confident, but being 25 years old and working in a café seemed to be where she was now.

Gerald, her old colleague from a previous job came in, smiling broadly in his normal, jolly way, dressed in his gaudy, purple overcoat and yellow sneakers. Melissa took off her apron for a few minutes and poured two cups of coffee. They at down at the corner table, and instantly Gerald started telling Melissa about what an exciting day he’d been having, visiting art galleries and museums, and all the French girls he’d been making passes at. Mellisa listened half-heartedly, looking out the window.

Gerald looked at her. “So, who may boyfriends have you had this week?”

Mellisa shook her head, looking down into her coffee cup.

Gerald sighed dramatically and sat back in his chair. “Dear, dear, we need to find you a man, and fast.”

“Unfortunately, men who like, or even look at me with interest don’t seem to exist,” she said.

“Of course they do,” said Gerald, taking her hand in his. “Keep the faith. The love of your life might well be the very person whom you serve next.”

Melissa started laughing.

Gerald gathered up his jacket to leave. He winked at her. “My grandmother told fortunes, and a bit of it has rubbed off on me. Mark my words.” And that he was out the door, and Melissa continued serving customers.

She soon lost herself again in the street scenery outside the café door.  Oh, how she could be an artist, or a model, or just be someone’s muse.  She came here to immerse herself in the art, and from the moment she visited the Louvre back then on her first trip, she realized just how much she loved art.  It was her calling, her life, but of course being black and a girl with more than enough curves definitely put two strikes against her.  Most people preferred pretty, thin, milky white models, and besides, she was too shy to really stand out.  Of course, a woman can dream, and she wondered if maybe, just maybe she would meet someone who would eventually ask her to be his or her muse.

She didn’t care if it was for fun, or for money, she wanted more than anything to have that.  When she saw the door open and a man come in, she pushed a strand of her thick, dark hair behind her ears, looking at the man with hazel eyes.

“Hello there,” he said.

“
Bonjour
.  What would you like?” she asked.  This was the first Frenchman that came in that wasn’t rattling his order to her in French.  So what was different here?

“I’ll take a café au lait, large,” he said.

She wrote down the order, looking at him with a smile.

“It’s not every day that I have a man come in here not talking to me in French,” she said.  When she first started this job, people would talk to her a mile a minute, she hardly managed to keep up, and it made her feel even more insecure.  Now she had gotten better, but hearing a man speak to her in English was certainly welcome.

“Well, I you looked pretty flustered.  I’m Pierre by the way,” he said.

Pierre extended his hand, and she looked at him.  He was obviously wealthy, wearing a crisp, designer suit and a blood-red tie.  He looked like he had just come out of a business meeting, and his brown hair that had little hints of gray in it bespeckled his face.  He had a small hint of stubble, but those blue eyes entranced her.  He was about twenty years her senior, she was sure of it, but this man certainly was something that she never thought she would see in here.

“Nice to meet you.  I’m Marissa,” she said.

“What a lovely name.  He studied her for a moment. So, you been working here for a while?” he asked her.

“Well yeah.  It’s a job, I’ll take what I can get.  It’s nice to meet someone who speaks English and doesn’t bombard me with their order,” she told him.

Pierre chuckled.  “Well, I have to know how to speak both English and French fluently as my work takes me all over the world.  I am a sculptor,” he said.

That’s when Marissa looked up.  Holy shit.  It was he.  Pierre LeBlanc, the world-famous sculptor who had at least ten different works of art in museums all over France.  She couldn’t believe that he was here.  She nearly dropped his order when she heard that.

“Oh.  Wow.  I can’t believe you’re in here.  It makes sense that you know both languages,” she told him.

“Well yes.  But I have to say you definitely inspire me.  You are the perfect model for a new piece I’m planning,” he told her.

She looked at him with wide eyes.  Wait, was he joking?  There was no way he could be serious about this!  She knew how to keep a good decorum at her job, and she could make small talk with people, but to be considered pretty enough to model for a world-famous sculptor?  One who probably made her salary from the sale of one piece of art?  There was no way!

“You’re just saying that to flatter me, aren’t you?” she said shyly, awaiting rejection.

“No, no.  I’m serious.  I want you to come pose for me.  You seem perfect for my new piece.  You’re beautiful, more voluptuous than the stupid rail-thin ones that I always get, and you have a great personality.  If you want to meet me, here’s my address.  I would love to get to know you better,” he replied.

He gave her the card, took his drink and left.  At that moment, the only thing that Marissa could feel was shock.  There was no way this was going to work.  She wasn’t secure enough to model for such a great man, a man that she remembered admiring when she visited an art exhibition earlier this month.  A part of her thought that this was some messed-up dream, but when she felt the prick of the pinch she gave to her leg, she realized that it wasn’t.  Emblazoned in front of her was his name, along with his contact number and his address, and at that moment, she knew it was real.  He seemed to liked her, and he wanted to get to know her better, and right now, the only thing Marissa could do was stare at the card in her hands, disbelief and anxiety the two emotions she felt when she looked at the telltale card. 

**********

Marissa had no idea what to do, or what to expect.  A part of her wanted to tell him to buzz off, but there was that other part of her that was innately curious.  The fact that this man seemed interested in having her model for him was something of a novelty in her eyes, and as she twiddled with the card, she thought about contacting him.  She did think he was a pretty friendly guy, but at the same time, she wasn’t sure what to make of him.

Was he just being nice because he humored her?  She never thought of herself as the type of girl to attract men like that.  The fact that not only was she dark-skinned, but also bigger than most girls, usually put off most men, but this one came right up to her and asked her – her, of all people! - to model for him.  It was different, and her morbid curiosity did get the better of her, and she wanted to know what would happen next.

She continued with her shift, determining whether or not she should go through with this.  A part of her was telling her not to do this, but there was that other little voice, the one that was nagging at her the whole time, to at least contact him.  Pierre didn’t seem like a rude man; rather, he was polite and treated her with respect.  Maybe it was best to agree with his demands.  She didn’t know why he asked her, but maybe he would explain it.

As she got off her shift, she dialed the number on her mobile.  After two rings, she heard his voice.

“Hello?” he answered.

“Hey there.  Is this Pierre?  This is Marissa, the girl from earlier,” she spoke.  Already, a flush was beginning to ghost over her body.

“Oh hello, Marissa, how are you?” he asked.

“Good I guess.  I was calling to figure out when you wanted to meet and such,” she replied awkwardly.  She hated phone conversations, so hopefully this would be the only time they would have to do this sort of thing.

“Really, anytime is fine
mon amie
.  I mean, I’m free tonight if you want,” he said.

She thought about it.  “I actually have a couple of personal things to get done, but if you want, we can meet up tomorrow I guess,” she said.

“How about seven tomorrow?  Oh, and bring a dress that makes you feel beautiful,” he replied.

That last sentence got to her.  She didn’t think she was beautiful at all.  She thought this man was playing with her, thinking maybe it would be fun to torment her, but something deep down was saying otherwise.

“I don’t have anything that makes me feel that way to be honest,” she said.

There was a pause, and finally, he spoke.

“Nonsense!  You’re gorgeous, so you should feel that way at least a little bit.  I mean, if you want, I can help you out.  Let me take you shopping tomorrow,” he said.  His thick French accent was loaded with enthusiasm, making Marissa blush.

“Sure, I guess,” she replied.  She didn’t think she was beautiful, and as time went on, she almost felt like this man was playing with her feelings.

“Tell you what, let’s do that, and then I’ll tell you more about how the modeling process works,” he replied.

“Fine by me,” Marissa said awkwardly.  She was still trying to take all of this in, still trying to figure everything out.

As they hung up, Marissa felt confused.  Why did Pierre say she was beautiful?  Why did he think of her that way?  All of this confused her, and it made her feel even more insecure.

The next day, Marissa thought about this all day while she prepared drinks and food for the café customers.  She still couldn’t understand it all, but she would hopefully get an answer in due course.  Maybe this was some sort of prank, or something that French men loved to do.  She had a morbid curiosity about where this was leading, but at the same time, she was afraid of rejection and embarrassment.

She got a text from Pierre saying they can meet up in front of his apartment.  He texted her his address, and when she looked it up, she realized he was in one of those fancy apartments along the Seine.  Great, so he wasn’t even pressed for money or anything.  This made everything even more surreal in her eyes.  She took a Metro train and then a slow walk to the address, rang the bell and waited for him to answer.

“Coming,” she heard from the intercom.  Within moments, he appeared at the door, smiling at her brightly.

“Hello there!  You’re looking great!” he said.

“Thanks,” she replied, feeling awkward. She wasn’t wearing anything fancy, just a simple dress.

“Let’s get you something that makes you feel beautiful,
oui
?” he asked her.

She simply nodded, still trying to read this man’s intentions.  He led her to her car, a fancy, black French car that cost probably as much as her salary.  He started the car, driving over to one of the most exclusive and expensive department stores in Paris, the Lafayette.

“Why are we here?” she asked.

“Because we’re getting you an outfit that makes you feel beautiful my dear,” he told her.

She immediately grew pale.  “This is a place for rich people.  I can’t afford this type of clothing,” she said nervously.  A nervous sweat started to prickle her body, and already she was feeling nervous about it all.

“Don’t worry then.  I’m paying for it.  You’re my model, and I’m going to treat you to everything you need.  You’re an inspiration, very beautiful, and sweet too,” Pierre said soothingly.

She appreciated the string of compliments, but still couldn’t wrap her head around everything.  She followed him inside the brightly lit, fancy shopping complex though, where they headed to one of the most expensive plus-sized stores in the world.  When they got there he immediately beelined for the dresses section.  Marissa was moving in a chaste manner, trying her best not to touch anything.  In her mind, she almost felt like it was a sin to be in this type of place, but her intuition told her, and she knew somehow this was the start of something amazing for her.

She tried to follow Pierre into the dress area, but gave up, he knew where he was heading. A few moments later he reappeared with three very pretty dresses in his hands.

“Try these on, and pick the one that you think will be the most beautiful on you.  It doesn’t have to be those dresses either, just whatever makes you feel beautiful,” he said. “If you feel beautiful, you will be beautiful,” he added with a wink.