Hero Bear

  Copyright © 2019 by Lovestruck Romance.

  All Rights Reserved.

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is purely coincidental.

  This book is intended for adult readers only.

  Any sexual activity portrayed in these pages occurs between consenting adults over the age of 18 who are not related by blood.

  Contents

  Author’s Note

  Story Description

  1. Kerrigan

  2. Dmitry

  3. Kerrigan

  4. Dmitry

  5. Kerrigan

  6. Dmitry

  7. Kerrigan

  8. Dmitry

  9. Kerrigan

  10. Kerrigan

  11. Dmitry

  12. Kerrigan

  13. Kerrigan

  14. Dmitry

  15. Kerrigan

  16. Dmitry

  17. Kerrigan

  18. Dmitry

  19. Kerrigan

  20. Dmitry

  21. Kerrigan

  22. Dmitry

  23. Kerrigan

  24. Dmitry

  25. Kerrigan

  26. Dmitry

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  Hero Bear

  P.O.L.A.R.

  Candace Ayers

  Lovestruck Romance

  Author’s Note

  P.O.L.A.R. (Private Ops: League Arctic Rescue) is a specialized, private operations task force—a maritime unit of polar bear shifters. Part of a world-wide, clandestine army comprised of the best of the best shifters, P.O.L.A.R.’s home base is Siberia…until the team pisses somebody off and gets re-assigned to Sunkissed Key, Florida and these arctic shifters suddenly find themselves surrounded by sun, sand, flip-flops and palm trees.

  Substandard job performance,

  Indebted to a sleazy loan shark,

  Crushing on a shifter who’s out of her league,

  Kerrigan is in a heck of a pickle.

  Dmitry’s not gentle.

  He’s not the nurturing type.

  He’s a cold-blooded killer—a P.O.L.A.R. assassin

  But, when he steps in to protect her, Kerrigan doesn’t see a killer, she sees a Hero Bear.

  1

  Kerrigan

  If I’d ever needed an intervention, it would have been at the moment I decided that moving into the house with all six of the guys from P.O.L.A.R. would be better than living out of my car. I’d chosen to live under the same roof with the guys I spent all day working for. There was such a thing as too much togetherness.

  When Serge, the Alpha of the team, found out I’d been living out of my Honda, he made a big stink about it. And, since Roman had recently moved out to live with his new mate, Megan, there was a room vacant. That meant either I stand up to Serge and say no, or I go along with his wishes. I was terrible when it came to confrontation. Especially with an Alpha. So, I guess it wasn’t totally my choice to move in. I just didn’t decline the request. Still, an intervention would’ve been nice.

  The large, two story bungalow that housed P.O.L.A.R. was prime beach front real estate. Located on the west side of Sunkissed Key, only a short walk from the P.O.L.A.R. office, it was a beautiful, old house on a beautiful white, sandy beach. Rumor was, it had been an old bed and breakfast at one time and, with a little renovating, had been transformed into the house for the team. It was certainly large enough to fit a whole gang comfortably. At least, it should’ve been. If the guys were normal sized men. They weren’t. They were shifters, and the shifters of P.O.L.A.R. made the hallways feel narrow, and the kitchen and dining room laughably miniscule.

  Roman had moved out just the day before and I was lugging in the two bags containing all my worldly possessions. I struggled with the garbage bags while Serge and Konstantin watched me. When I paused to take a breath, they both offered to help. I didn’t want their help, though. It was embarrassing, especially since I sucked at my job. I could at least carry in my own bag and prove that I actually could do something without screwing it up.

  Alexei stepped out of the bathroom and into the middle of the hall grinning at me and shaking his head before disappearing back into his room. I appreciated his hands off approach as I continued to drag the bags up the stairs toward the corridor.

  I’d already gotten the suckers up two flights of stairs. The heaviest bag held a collection of books hidden in a blanket at the bottom. I was almost to the door of my new bedroom. Unfortunately, like most things in my life, the move didn’t go as planned. The bag advertised as a “heavy-duty steel-sack” tore like tissue paper. The force I’d been applying to pull the weighty bag up the stairs set me off like a rocket and I went flying backwards until I landed on the hardwood floor with a thud.

  Flat on my back, I stared at the ceiling and groaned. Heavy-duty my ass! Actually, most of the impact had been absorbed by my ass and it stung. Not nearly as much as my ego, though. I couldn’t seem to catch a break.

  “Damn. You okay?” Serge’s face appeared staring down at me wearing what he tried to present as a concerned expression. But I could see him struggling to keep the corners of his mouth down. He was laughing inside.

  I gritted my teeth and nodded. “Perfectly fine.”

  “Why are you carting around an entire library? Did you have all this crap in your car?” He lifted a book to read the title and then cleared his throat before putting it back down. “Well, I’m going back to work.”

  I flew up, realizing my books were on display, and made quick work of gathering them together to get them into my room asap. That was how Dmitry found me when he opened his bedroom door—on my hands and knees kicking, shoveling and brushing books out of the hallway and into the privacy of my new room as quickly as I could.

  His room was across the hall from mine and I’m sure I looked lovely, ass out, on all fours, surrounded by erotic novels and wearing the red-faced shame only a way-too-old-to-be-a-virgin could possess when her guilty pleasure was on full display before a house full of men.

  My thick glasses were sliding down my nose, and I felt Dmitry standing behind me. I looked over my shoulder to see if I was right. Of course I was right. I could always sense Dmitry.

  The little squeak I let out was embarrassing enough by itself. The position I realized I’d frozen in—on elbows and knees, ass in the air, was mortifying. I was suddenly reminded of the time I saw an ape at the zoo offering herself…never mind.

  Dmitry said nothing. He just stepped back into his room and shut the door.

  Konstantin let out an awkward oof, adding to my horror by letting me know that I’d had quite an audience for the whole Kerrigan Tran shit-show.

  Struggling to my feet, I kicked the rest of my things into my room, ducked in behind them, and shut the door—a little too hard—behind me. Maybe I could stay in there and never come out.

  I leaned against the door and focused on normalizing my breathing.

  “Well, that could have gone better,” I mumbled aloud.

  The guys already thought I was a complete incompetent moron at my job. Because I was. They also thought I was small, scrawny and weak. Because, again, I was. They’d just learne
d I was a major klutz as well.

  And Dmitry had to be home to witness that. I’d had the biggest crush on Dmitry since the moment I’d laid eyes on him—through my Coke bottle lenses.

  It was so childish and stupid. A crush was a silly thing to have as an adult especially since I was too chicken shit to let him know how I felt. My grandmother, may she rest in peace, would’ve tactfully told me to shit or get off the pot. Approach the man, speak your mind, and get your answer or move it along. I had absolutely zero intention of doing any of that. Dmitry was a real life hero and I was a clumsy nerd who broke my glasses a couple times a year and either walked around with my arms out in front of me feeling my way around or held them together with electrical tape until I was able to afford a new pair.

  Even thought I had no intention of taking my crush on Dmitry to any level other than admiring him from afar, the damned crush remained. Instant and ever-present, my attraction hadn’t faded one iota since I began working at P.O.L.A.R. If anything, it’d grown increasingly stronger. For some reason, I couldn’t stop making an idiot out of myself in front of him, either. It was degrading. And the real reason I would have preferred living in my car.

  With him across the hall from me, I was bound to see him even more often than I already did. I didn’t need that. It was only a matter of time before I said or did the next incredibly stupid or appallingly embarrassing thing. At least living in my car, I had the chance to recover from job related screwups at night—alone in my own plastic and faux leather sanctuary.

  I shoved a book away from me and thumped my head against the door. “Idiot.”

  The sound of rolling waves drew me away from the door and across the room to the large window I’d opened earlier. One thing that the house had that my car didn’t, was an absolutely spectacular view. Beyond the beach, for as far as I could see, was the beautiful turquoise waters of the Atlantic and bright blue expanse of Florida sky. Breathtaking.

  It also was a reminder of how lucky I was. Of all the places to be assigned a job, I had the good fortune to be sent to Sunkissed Key. Sand, sun, a constant bevy of shirtless men, and umbrella drinks at beach bars that a girl who lived out of her Honda Civic couldn’t often afford. It was heaven.

  I just had to get my head out of the metaphorical sand and get my toes in the literal sand. I could go down to the beach and get ideas for my next book as I watched all the men run around. Maybe it’d be just what the doctor ordered to get my mind off Dmitry.

  I pushed my glasses up and studied the inside of my new bedroom door. To get to the beach, I’d have to travel through the house and possibly run into some of the team. They might even joke about my latest clumsy maneuver or my trashy book collection. Was it worth it?

  Out the window, down on the beach, a male volleyball game was starting up. Well, that made up my mind for me. I grabbed my notebook and a pen before darting out of my room and down the stairs as fast as I could.

  “Where’s the fire?” Serge called out from the kitchen.

  “Volleyball!” And getting away from your hot bear brother! I groaned and let the door slam behind me.

  Slipping my shoes off, I left them near the back door as I sank my toes into the sand and started the short trudge to find a good spot to plant myself and watch the game.

  2

  Dmitry

  I stepped out of my bedroom glaring at the closed door across the hall. That door had been ajar until quite late the night before. The room’s new occupant, Kerrigan, had stayed down at the beach all evening. She sat in the sand watching some locals play at tossing a ball over a net for hours while scribbling in a notebook. She always had a notebook with her. Not always the same one, either. Then, as if that wasn’t bad enough, she’d fallen asleep right there on the beach.

  She was small and vulnerable. There was no way I could take my eyes off her. I’d had to stay at the window for hours looking after her and making sure nothing happened to her until she woke up—way past eleven—and decided to head back in. I’d lost sleep watching her from the window.

  Downstairs in the kitchen, I yawned as I made myself some oatmeal and honey. Bears needed their sleep. Sleep was very important and I didn’t like to miss it for anything. Grumbling, I poured myself a second cup of coffee and tossed it back on one swallow.

  “Who pissed in your Wheaties?” Serge strolled in, looking refreshed and well rested. Bastard.

  I was only half listening to Serge because just then, I heard Kerrigan’s bedroom door open upstairs and her soft, light footsteps pad down the stairs and toward us. Her jet black hair was pulled back in its normal ponytail, and she entered the kitchen with a beaming smile on her face. Fake, but almost convincing. “Good morning.”

  Serge smiled back at her and nodded to the cabinet with the coffee cups. “Morning. Get yourself some coffee.”

  “Oh, no, it makes me jittery. I’ll just grab a banana or something.”

  I ran my eyes over her lithe figure and readjusted myself in my seat. She was sexy as hell. But, would a banana be enough? I had half a mind to make her some oatmeal. She needed a real meal.

  “How’d you sleep?” Serge leaned against the counter and folded his arms over his chest. “It had to be better than sleeping in that little car of yours.”

  Her eyes darted to me and then back to Serge. “I didn’t mind the car, but I have to admit, it was nice to be able to fully stretch out.”

  “I’m sure.”

  “Well, I’m going to go for a quick swim before work.” She backed away. “Bye.”

  I winced as she tripped over a chair and bumped into the wall. She giggled and her face flushed pink before she turned and hurried away. I gritted my teeth and shook my head. Maybe I needed to follow her—for protection. She was a bit of a hazard to herself.

  “How did you sleep, Dmitry? Better, I would think.” Serge smirked at me knowingly before walking out of the kitchen.

  I growled. His remark told me that he knew I hadn’t been sleeping at home lately. What choice did I have, though? Kerrigan seemed to have no regard for her personal safety. She’d been sleeping in her car with the windows open a crack. I had no choice but to watch over her every night. Why no one else thought it was necessary to look out for her was beyond me.

  She made me nervous as hell. I never knew what she was going to do next and I felt like I was watching her with baited breath, waiting to derail her next near-catastrophe.

  I thought I’d find relief with her moving into the P.O.L.A.R. house, but so far it had gotten worse. When she finally did come in from the beach last night, I’d been hyper-aware the entire night that she was just across the hall. So close I could almost reach out and touch her.

  Touching her was a concept I’d been fighting since the moment I’d met her. The very second I first laid eyes on her, I’d wondered what it would be like…

  I set my coffee down a little too hard and shattered the mug. As I cleaned up the mess, I focused on clearing my head. I had work to do. I needed to concentrate. Thankfully, we hadn’t had any big cases since Kerrigan had started working for us. I didn’t think I’d be any good to the team until I figured out how to sort out what was happening in my brain. And body.

  “Hey, brother.” Konstantin raised his brows. He was standing propped against the doorway. “You look like shit.”

  I finished throwing away the pieces of shattered mug. “Thanks.”

  “It wouldn’t have anything to do with our newest roomie, would it?”

  I glared at him before tossing the dirty towel down the laundry chute and walking out the back door. I ignored his question.

  Unable to resist, I followed Kerrigan’s sweet scent down to the beach and watched as she swam in the ocean. She was too far out to be able to see me. Too far out for my comfort. I had half a mind to swim out there and drag her closer to shore.

  She was a good swimmer, though. I watched as she glided through the water, cutting a strong path under waves and coming back up on the other side of them. She
seemed to be a different person out there. She was far more clumsy on land.

  Still, my heart was in my throat the entire time I kept watch. No one had ever gotten me wound so tightly before. Kerrigan had me genuinely scared that she was going to trip and land on an open switchblade, or something equally as freaky. And, I felt it my obligation to keep her safe.

  Her clothes were piled up nearby and I saw the notebook she was never without peeking out from under them. Curiosity niggled at me, but I ignored both the curiosity and my bear. He was itching to get out and go for a swim with Kerrigan. He wanted to brush against her, feel her silky skin, and roll through the crashing waves with her. He loved swimming anyway, but the thought of swimming with Kerrigan took the pastime to a whole new level.

  Even though Kerrigan knew all about shifters, she’d never actually seen my bear. Most humans never came face to face with a polar bear. They might see one from afar in a zoo once or twice in their lifetime, but the size of a shifter animal was massive compared to a non-shifter animal.

  When I noticed Kerrigan start to swim in, I climbed to my feet and headed back toward the house. She didn’t need to know I was watching her.