Captivating The Bear. Jane Godman
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in Cannes as the most suitable place in which to screen the premiere of the band’s documentary. The whole time, his mind was preoccupied.
What the hell had just happened?
One minute he had been walking down the steps, talking on his cell with a French national newspaper about an interview, the next...he shook his head. It had been like a bolt of lightning, hitting him full-on as he walked out into the sunlight. He had no idea where it had come from, or what had caused it. When he had raised his head, seeking the source of the enchantment that held him helpless, he had known with absolute certainty that it was coming from somewhere in the throng of fans across the street.
As his eyes scanned the crowd, he had been in the grip of the most powerful emotion he had ever experienced. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t shake free of it.
Who are you?
Ged was a shifter. His bear senses had kicked in, taking over from his human perception. Although it wasn’t his dominant sense, his sight was good. Even so, trying to pick out one person among the mass had been impossible. But scent...that was a different matter. He could pick up a smell twenty miles away. The delicious aroma from the other side of the street had made his nostrils flare. It reminded him of clean, warm fur. Of winter sunshine, fresh, clear water and deep, dark pine forests.
How could he have been so sure the origin of that new fire in his blood was female? The answer was simple. Not only was his reaction to her knee-weakening and breathtaking, it was also zipper straining. His tailored pants had started to feel snug and he had dug his hands into his pockets, cursing the fate that had decided to put him in this predicament while he was wearing a tuxedo. Scratch that. He had cursed the fate that had decided to put him in this situation. Period.
Because he knew what had happened. Of course. Shifters were creatures of tradition. Their lives were ruled by legend and magic. Ged, along with every other werebear, had been brought up to respect the ancient traditions that ruled his life.
There is one mate for each of us, and we will know our mate instantly.
He had heard other shifters talk about that moment of recognition. He’d even seen it happen recently for two of his friends. That moment of seeing their mate for the first time and knowing there was no going back. They described it as being like a drug, an injection of pure, undiluted passion direct into the bloodstream, delivering a perfect high. An instant, uncontrollable addiction.
Ged understood all of that. But there was no way it could happen for him. A king in exile? Even if he had any sort of order in his life, he was a bear. Other shifters could do the mates-for-life thing. Callistoya werebears were notorious for the control they had over their emotions. Even if he was prepared to accept the concept of instant, lifelong passion, it wasn’t happening with someone he hadn’t even looked in the eye.
That was what he tried to tell himself, but his body was giving him other messages. When the time came to go into the theater, it took all of his considerable strength to turn away. Every nerve ending was crying out to cross the street and find her. Every fiber of his being was alight with the need to grab her, claim her and never let her go.
Need her. Now.
The strength of that feeling hadn’t faded once he was inside the building. The burn wasn’t as fierce, but it was still there. He still hadn’t seen her face, but she had started a fire in his blood and it was raging out of control.
He sat in the elegant theater, surrounded by celebrities, and watched the images on the screen. At least, he assumed that was what he did. He had no memory afterward of watching the documentary that had consumed so much of his life over the last twelve months.
At the after-party, he accepted the congratulations and praise, laughing off any suggestions about the awards that were likely to come flooding his way. He knew the movie, a snapshot of six months on the road with Beast, was good. The strength of the story was in the editing. The truth would never be told. The world would never be ready to learn that one of the most famous bands on the planet was really a group of shifters.
As he drank too much champagne and discovered that, as usual, there weren’t enough dainty canapés to fill his large frame, part of Ged’s mind was disengaged from the elegant occasion.
Who was she? It couldn’t be coincidence that she was here in Cannes at the same time as him...
A strong grip on his shoulder shook him out of his musings. “I’ve got to hand it to you.” Khan, the band’s lead singer, gestured around the room, encompassing the group of designer-clad guests. “You sure know how to throw a dull party.”
Ged laughed. “Tonight is about money and influence, not about getting wasted and behaving outrageously. Make sure Torque knows that before he sets fire to the drapes, will you?”
“I guess that means swinging from the chandeliers is forbidden?” Khan was a weretiger. Intuition wasn’t his strong point, but the two men had been friends for a long time. His eyes scanned Ged’s face for a moment. “Everything okay with you?”
How the hell was he supposed to answer that question? If he told Khan the truth, his exuberant friend was likely to insist they set off right now on a quest to find the mystery woman. Because he was blissfully happy in his own marriage, Khan would seek the same thing for Ged.
Ged didn’t want to be forced to make excuses or lie. He knew his friends sometimes speculated about his true identity. He was the man who had rescued them all from danger or captivity, the person who had brought this unique group together. They owed him an allegiance that went beyond loyalty, but he had never disclosed the details of his background to them. How could he? Sharing the details of his past would be on the same level of madness as trying to find himself a mate.
“I’m fine.” He tilted his empty champagne glass toward Khan. “Do you think there’s any chance we might find some brandy in this place?”
* * *
To Lidi’s surprise, the crowd began to disperse as soon as the band was inside the theater. She turned to her companion, whose name was Allie. “Shouldn’t we wait for them to come out again?”
Allie gave her a pitying look. “Rookie mistake. They’ve played nice and given the paparazzi what they wanted. It’s possible they’ll come out this way and sign a few autographs, but it’s more likely they’ll leave by a rear door and go straight to the after-party.”
Lidi experienced a moment of panic. She couldn’t have come this far only to fail now. Clearly she needed to stick with Allie, who was suitably dressed for the weather with an embroidered scarf wrapped around her neck and long boots encasing her legs. The other woman seemed to know what she was doing and was willing to share her information.
“What do we do now?”
“The party is being held at the Palais Hôtel, where the band are staying—”
Lidi brightened up. This was more like it. “How do we get inside?”
“We don’t.” Don’t? Clearly Allie didn’t know who she was talking to. Telling Lidi what she couldn’t do was an instant challenge. “Oh, don’t get me wrong, some of these women will try it, but it’s a waste of time. Security will have them out of there so fast their feet won’t hit the ground. That’s if the hotel management don’t call the police and let them spend a night in the cells for trespassing.”
Lidi allowed herself to be led along the street with the rest of the crowd. She took a moment to appreciate Allie’s unusual looks. Lidi came from a land where most people had the classic brown hair and golden eyes of the Callistoyan werebear, a close relative of the Siberian brown bear. With her silver-blond hair, pale skin and light gray eyes, Allie was striking.
“So what are we doing exactly? Trying to get another glimpse of them?” Lidi hadn’t risked life and limb and traveled all this way just to look at Gerald Tavisha.
Allie gave her a sidelong glance. “What else