Papa Bear (Finding Fatherhood Book 1) (9 page)

As the emcee of a charity auction for WishGranters Foundation, Olivia isn’t on the bidding list. That doesn’t stop billionaire Jensen Meade from offering six million dollars for an evening of her time. He’s a perfect gentleman, and they’re soon spending all their time together despite her wariness after a previous bad relationship. He knows she’s his mate, but she doesn’t yet know he’s a bear-shifter, and it seems like the wrong time to tell her when someone who’s been stalking him switches focus to Olivia instead.

BOUGHT BY A BEAR (Emerald City Shifters, Book Six)

Olivia smoothed her little black dress before stepping onto the stage, swallowing down a bout of nerves and trying to quiet the colony of butterflies in her stomach. It didn’t matter how many times she gave a speech. She always had this reaction speaking in public. It would pass within the first few words, but she always dreaded making speeches just the same. Tonight, it was for a fun event, and she hoped that would relieve even more pressure, easing her fluttering nerves that much sooner.

When she approached the podium, she looked out at the sea of tables in the ballroom at the Meade Hotel, pleased to see they were a full house, filled with familiar donors, along with others she didn’t recognize. The attendees would have paid a thousand dollars per plate to be at the event, so that boded well for the charity auction raising much-needed funds for their new project.

Her voice emerged confident, a stark contrast to the nerves making her knees tremble behind the podium. “Thank you for joining us, ladies and gentlemen. As you know, WishGranters Foundation fulfills once-in-a-lifetime wishes for children who are terminally ill or stricken with a life-changing illness. When I was eight years old, my then-eleven-year-old sister Dana was diagnosed with glioblastoma, which is an aggressive brain tumor. It progressed rapidly, and there wasn’t much doctors could do, but I remember Dana being so excited when WishGranters gave our entire family a trip to Disney World. That memory stayed with me, and when I had the opportunity to come work for the foundation a few years ago, I jumped at it.”

She paused for a moment, not to garner the applause coming from the tables, but to gather her thoughts. She cleared her throat slightly before speaking again. “At the time, I remember my mom being tired all the time, but I didn’t realize it was because she was so worn out from stress and being Dana’s primary caretaker. I was speaking with her about a year ago, talking about that time and how hard that year was before Dana passed away. My mother said that as much as she loved Dana, there were times when she would have loved to run away and never look back.” Seeing a few nods among those assembled was encouraging. She’d been afraid that might be too controversial, but they were her mother’s words.

“I know she didn’t really mean that, but it got me to thinking that the people who take care of the special children who qualify for WishGranters also deserve a break, a chance to run away, even if it’s just for a few hours. With that in mind, we’ve launched the Caretakers Program, which grants moms and dads a brief reprieve from the ongoing stress. Whether it’s an afternoon at the spa, or a romantic night in a bed-and-breakfast for just the parents, the goal of the program is to make their lives easier too. Not every parent will want to take advantage of the opportunity while their children are suffering, so qualifying parents will also have an opportunity to have a wish granted after their child passes or recovers.”

There was another round of applause, and she smiled at the people present. She wasn’t certain how the reception would be when she’d first come up with the idea, and a few people on the board had been horrified at the idea of offering a parent the option to get away from the stress of caring for their terminally ill child, even for just a few hours, but it had been a far more popular idea than she’d expected.

She had received the go-ahead to try to solicit funds strictly for this program, and the charity auction had been the easiest way she could think of to do just that. There had been other, smaller fundraisers, but this was where she had focused her attention for the last couple of months, planning the event and recruiting various people to offer a few hours of their time in exchange for the winning bid that would go to the fund.

Olivia spoke again once the applause died down. “And I’d like to thank all of you for attending, and for our volunteers who have generously donated their time to this endeavor. With that in mind, let the auction began.” She looked down at her cards, jogging her memory about the first volunteer awaiting auctioning. It was a popular coach at the local university, and she read his introduction, written by himself, before starting the bid.

It was fun identifying the bidders, and she had practiced her bidding voice, pleased she sounded at least semi-professional, though she was no auctioneer. The coach ended up sold to an older woman, who looked tickled to have won, and she was giggling with her friends like a teenager. She smiled at Coach Brennan, who gave her a resigned look and a wink before exiting the stage to go sit with his date and arrange the details of their actual dinner together.

She quickly went through the list of local and national celebrities who had donated their time, ending with the local weatherwoman almost an hour later. “Let’s start the bidding at one thousand.” Almost immediately, three signs went up from the attendees. “Two thousand.” Again, a flurry of signs rose, and soon the bidding had escalated to twenty-five thousand dollars. It was down to two people at that point, unsurprisingly both men, who seemed to appreciate Gretchen Wallace’s feminine assets as much as her prowess with predicting the weather. “Twenty-six?”

The last of the two bidders exchanged a glance, and Number Thirteen put down his sign with a rueful shake of his head. “That’s twenty-five thousand to Number Eighty-Four, going once, twice…sold.” She banged the little hammer on the gavel she’d been given by the chairman of the board just for the occasion.

“Five million,” said a new voice from the doorway of the ballroom.

She stiffened in shock, trying to make out the person who had offered such an outrageous bid for Gretchen. She was appreciative of the numbers, but the bidding was over. “I’m sorry, but the bidding has ended for an evening with Gretchen. She was also our last participant, so the auction part of this evening is over, sir.”

He strode briskly through the crowd, and as he grew closer, she found it increasingly difficult to breathe. The man had a large frame, solidly built shoulders, narrow waist, and a perfectly formed face that could have been on the cover of magazines detailing male perfection. His light-blond hair was an interesting contrast to his almost-black eyes. He stopped a few feet from the stage, hands planted on his hips, and looked up at her with an air of challenge.

“I wasn’t bidding on Gretchen. I’m bidding five million for an evening with you.”

***

The woman was stunned by his words. Olivia, he reminded himself, having read her name on the sign outside the ballroom, announcing her as the emcee of the event. His bear was growling in his head, telling him to grab the woman from the stage and hide her somewhere no one else could see their mate.

He was of half a mind to agree with his bear, but the civilized side of himself understood the impracticality of doing so. Not only would he alienate his mate with such actions, but he would embarrass his brother Kingston as well, along with ruining the charitable event. Instead, he’d have to hold his breath and hope she accepted his bid. If not, he’d find another way to pursue and persuade her, but this was the most expeditious.

It had been a shock to be walking past the ballroom and catch her scent. Neither he nor his bear had been expecting to find their mate under such circumstances, but as soon as he’d smelled her, he’d known she belonged with them. It hadn’t taken him long to come up with this idea, though he’d hovered in the background and the doorway, waiting for the auction’s end so he could make his bid on her.

She was clearly flustered for a moment, her pale cheeks looking almost scarlet under a light sheen of makeup. She ran a shaky hand through the black hair pinned neatly atop her head, and his mouth watered at the sight as he wondered how long the strands would be when she unpinned her hair. Would they be long enough to completely cover his pillow, or hang down in his face as she rode him? He was getting ahead of himself, but he couldn’t seem to rein in the thoughts parading through his head, all of them erotic.

After a moment, Olivia cleared her throat. “That’s very flattering, but I’m not up for auction.”

“Six million.” There were gasps all around him, including the loudest one from Olivia. He knew his was easily the highest bid of the night. Only the basketball player from Philadelphia had topped a million up to this point. He wanted his mate to know how much she was worth to him.

She licked her lips, looking torn. “Well, uh, I hadn’t planned to participate in the auction, but I can’t turn away a donation like that. Sold,” she said with a weak smile as she tapped the hammer gently against the wood.

His bear purred in satisfaction, and he wanted to join him. Instead, he stood off to the side and waited for her to wrap up the rest of the auction so he could get some of her time to arrange their date.

She was clearly reluctant, but he gave her points for trying to hide it after she had finished emceeing and approached him. Her smile was a little shaky, but her lavender-blue eyes revealed no hint of reluctance as she walked toward him. When she was within touching distance, she held out her hand. “I’m Olivia Thornton, and I guess I’m your date for the evening.”

“Actually, you’re my date for different evening, at least according to the auction details on the board by the door.” He winked at her as he gently reminded her he had paid for an evening away from the crowd, where her attention focused solely on him.

She licked her lusciously full lips. “I appreciate you wanting to make a donation to the fund, Mr.…?”

“Jensen Meade,” he filled in for her.

“Mr. Meade, but you can do so discreetly, or even anonymously. You really don’t have to go to the pretense of having a date with me to share money with the foundation.”

He grinned at her, wondering if it was as predatory as he suddenly felt. He didn’t want to hurt her, but he wanted to hunt her down and catch her, and this felt exactly like that. “Your foundation is important, and they do good things, but I bid six million dollars to have an evening with you, not to support your foundation. What kind of evening do I get for my money?”

She was frowning at him now. “You’re the winning bid, so you get to design the evening. Just tell me when and where to show up for a night of appropriate conversation and companionship.”

He laughed gently at her subtle reminder that he had only purchased a date with her and nothing else. “In that case, leave the planning to me. I doubt you want me to know your home address, so I’ll send a car to pick you up from your office at six p.m. on Friday.”

She looked like she wanted to argue, but she closed her mouth and nodded instead. “Of course, Mr. Meade.”

His eyes twinkled as he leaned just a bit closer, though not close enough to be inappropriate or invading her personal space. “Call me Jensen. I’m looking forward to Friday.”

She barely blinked at all when she said, “Likewise.”

He laughed again, doing his best to rein in his bear, who was urging him to touch her silky soft skin to find out if it was as smooth as it looked and to bury his nose in the crown of her hair to inhale her scent. He didn’t need to get so close to do so, having already memorized it from the moment he detected a hint of it while passing the ballroom, but he yearned to be able to do as his bear urged. “I think you’re lying to me, but I’ll let you for now. I promise you’ll have a good time Friday, in spite of yourself.”

She smiled at him, though it didn’t reach her eyes. “I’m certain I’ll have a wonderful time, Mr. Me—Jensen. You’re a valuable donor to the charity, and it’s my job to make sure you have a good time.”

He winced at the reminder that she wasn’t voluntarily going to dinner with him. It wasn’t an ideal situation, but it was the best he’d been able to come up with on the spur-of-the-moment, and the only solution that had satisfied his bear enough to rein in the crazy idea of snatching her from the ballroom and running away. “I hope you’ll enjoy yourself, and it will be more than just a job.” He glanced at his watch, realizing he was going to be late for dinner with Kingston and Grace. He hoped his brother would understand and cut him a little slack. “I have to go now, but I won’t forget about Friday.” He said it with a hint of warning.

She let out a long sigh. “Of course you won’t.”

He was unable to still the impulse to lift her hand, bringing it in his mouth to ghost his lips over her knuckles. He was pleased by the way she shuddered at the touch, her eyelids dropping to half-mast. She might not want to, but she clearly felt the attraction too. “Until Friday.” Somehow, he made himself release her hand and step back, knowing they both had prior commitments for the evening ahead, but he would ensure Friday night belonged to just the two of them. It was the first night of the rest of their lives, even if she didn’t know it yet.

Buy or borrow with Kindle Unlimited

Kit Fawkes is the pen name Kit Tunstall uses when writing steamy paranormal (especially shifter) romances. It’s simply a way to separate the myriad types of stories she writes so readers know what to expect with each “author.”

Join Kit Tunstall’s
Mailing List
to keep up with her new releases across all pen names.

Join Kit Fawkes’s
Mailing List
to receive notification only for paranormal titles.