Bear to the Rescue(Bear Claw Security Book 3)

By: Terry Bolryder



He grinned. “Aren’t we all allowed some secrets? What makes you so interested in mine?” he asked, folding his arms over his chest and letting his pecs flex.

She blinked and pushed away from the desk abruptly, clasping the folder to her chest. “Stop that,” she said, tucking back an errant curl. It was too short and immediately bounced forward over her forehead. She bit her full bottom lip again, her eyes making another quick survey of his body.

He knew his height and size were intimidating, and usually, he was extra pleasant to try and put people at ease. But since all she did was tease him and try to ruffle his feathers, he didn’t mind that his feathers seemed to ruffle her.

“Stop what?” he asked in a calm voice.

She waved a hand at him, as if trying to brush away the pheromones between them. “That… thing you do. Using your… maleness on me. It won’t work.”

“It won’t?” he asked, walking forward quickly, backing her into the opposite wall without ever touching her. He ran his eyes down her body and felt the air heat tangibly. “It’s not working?”

She let out a heavy breath. “That’s not fair…”

He grinned. “Totally fair if you rummaging in my private affairs is fair.”

“Fine,” she said. “I’ll stop looking.” She took a deep breath and pushed past him. Not before he’d seen her pulse pounding at the base of her neck, her lips slightly parted as she looked up at him.

“I’m going to… take this home to work on it. I think I’m done for the day,” she said.

She was only an independent contractor for now, not even an employee, so he really couldn’t protest her leaving whenever she wanted. He eyed the computers as she shut them down, getting rid of any windows she’d had open that had his info on them.

“Still don’t get why any of you rich boys would leave a life like that,” she said with a shrug as she gathered her things off her desk and shoved them in her purse, still flushing deeply. “Seems like the kind of life most would dream of being born into.”

His lips tightened into a frown. “Maybe for some people. Maybe it came with a price I couldn’t pay.”

“Sure,” she said flatly, as if she didn’t believe him. “Well, oh well. Good for you for being a man and able to run away from anything you don’t like.”

Frustration flashed through him, and he opened his mouth to retort, but before he could, she was out of the office, door swinging behind her. Bronson stared at the empty room, the hollow need to defend himself echoing through him.

He sighed and checked the time on his phone. He didn’t have any other client meetings today, so he’d probably follow Regan out to her car as usual. It had become a habit, mainly because he suspected beneath her tough exterior, something else was going on.

There was something about the way she watched her back, something about the way she handled herself that made him think someone was after her.

Or maybe it was just something that tingled in the back of his mind, some kind of intuition.

Not that Bronson minded an excuse to follow her around. Ever since he’d met her he’d been wanting to get closer to her, and so far he was utterly failing at it.

She might like to tease him, might like looking at his body, might even like to stalk his past online, but she wasn’t interested in actually getting to know him as a person. Not at all.

He walked out to the front desk and saw their new employee, Hercules, talking to Cage and his mate Carrie. Cage was Bronson’s other partner, and the dark-haired, sapphire-eyed shifter was Bronson’s closest friend. Carrie, his mate, was their office manager. She gave him a wave, and he waved back.

“You headed out?” Hercules asked in a deep voice. Hercules had only been with the company about a week. He was hired muscle, like Bronson, and had served with them in the military. He was a quiet man, with long, luxurious hair that could make any girl jealous and a tall, muscular body that made any girl stare.

“Yeah, just making sure Regan gets out okay,” Bronson said, looking out to see her get in the elevator.

“Damn, Bronson, when did you become stalker boss?” Cage asked, teasing.

Bronson snapped a glance to Cage and then took a deep breath and relaxed. “Since Limes’s mate nearly got kidnapped in the underground garage.”

“Yeah, but she had people after her.”

That was true. But I just feel like following her didn’t sound like a good enough rebuttal.

“So might Regan,” Bronson said, heading out the glass door. “After all, she was real insistent on taking the job here working security. My guess? She’s looking for protection. I’m going to give it to her.”

“Okay, Bronson,” Hercules said with a low laugh. “You go give it to her.”

The others burst into laughter at the joke, and Bronson rolled his eyes. “Shut up,” he said, walking out of the office and into the hallway. He pushed the button to wait for the elevator, ignoring the raucous laughter behind him.

He didn’t need this. He just needed to see Regan get to her car and know she was okay.

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