Romance: My Bear Boss: BBW Paranormal Shapeshifter Romance (BBW Shifter Romance, Paranormal Shifter Romance) by Ashley Hunter
Authors: Ashley Hunter
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sturdy bricks of bread she had had in the past. With one bite, Ingrid was unable to stop completely and before she knew it, she was pushing down bites of succulent grapes into her mouth alongside with the tangy taste of the bacon. Even the eggs were savory and Ingrid had trouble keeping herself from wiping her plates clean.
Before she knew it, her belly was full and she felt like she had enjoyed one of the best breakfasts of her life. If this had been under different circumstances, she would probably be feeling really pampered, instead she wanted nothing more than to find her captor and punch him in the mouth.
But she really needed to escape, and she much rather escape than deal with him ever again.
It took some time of brooding before Ingrid allowed herself to look at the clothes that the maid had left behind.
A huff of dark amusement burst through the woman’s lips, forcing a stray lock of her brown hair to flap over her face and obscure one of her eyes.
The warm air that trailed into the room was pleasant but sitting down made the otherwise nice atmosphere feel stuffy and the fact her wrists were very much tied up only made the sensation tighten hard around her throat.
She wanted out. She wanted to leave. She wanted a chance to expose the bastard that killed an innocent soul and took her away against her will.
But the only thing she knew at the moment was that getting upset would get her nowhere. Practicing a long intake of breath, Ingrid focused on hatching a plan. Getting out of the handcuffs would be the easy part of making it out of here alive, and so she couldn’t just up and leave without something solid.
The first obvious choice was trying to see if she could escape out the window. The sheets and curtains around her would be more than enough to fasten into some kind of rope—high quality fabric like this didn’t tear easy, so she was sure it would hold her weight.
The next thing was maybe disappearing into the woods, find a way she could gain a better vantage point of the estate—and if possible—steal a vehicle or convince someone to let her escape. She only hoped the next person she saw wasn’t as…willfully ignorant of her cries like the maid had been.
Returning to the cuffs, Ingrid wiggled her hands around the metal restraints. They were easily spaced enough for her to not feel completely held back, and being able to reach across the nightstand was simple enough.
Ingrid checked the drawers in the nightstand, grumbling to her when she found nothing she could use to break the chains or something.
Instead, she felt a stroke of an idea when her hands stumbled into a bottle and when she pulled it out, the determination flared when she noticed it was some kind of oil product.
Good. This makes getting out much easier.
She was already beginning to screw the cap open when the doorknob began to creak once more. Panic set in and Ingrid hurried to screw the bottle close and toss it back where she found it.
She managed to shut the drawer closed by the time the door slid open and she tried to appear like she hadn’t found a little something that gave her hope.
She had half-expected the maid to return, probably to offer some other ludicrous thing, but instead she was abruptly beneath the brown gaze of her captor—Leo.
“Good morning,” He spoke warmly.
Ingrid glared in response.
“Did you sleep well?”
She fought the urge to spit out a reply, remembering the actions of this man and the nervousness in her stomach churned nastily.
The last thing she wanted to do now was provoke him, and she wasn’t sure if he was as forgiving as his expression gave her. Someone like him couldn’t possibly be trusted.
Leo watched her, and she gave him a quick once over. He was dressed professionally. Loose black slacks, a simple button up white shirt, and a silver and gold tie drapped over his neck.
The clothing suited him, made him appear like had just returned from the office and wanting nothing more than
Before she knew it, her belly was full and she felt like she had enjoyed one of the best breakfasts of her life. If this had been under different circumstances, she would probably be feeling really pampered, instead she wanted nothing more than to find her captor and punch him in the mouth.
But she really needed to escape, and she much rather escape than deal with him ever again.
It took some time of brooding before Ingrid allowed herself to look at the clothes that the maid had left behind.
A huff of dark amusement burst through the woman’s lips, forcing a stray lock of her brown hair to flap over her face and obscure one of her eyes.
The warm air that trailed into the room was pleasant but sitting down made the otherwise nice atmosphere feel stuffy and the fact her wrists were very much tied up only made the sensation tighten hard around her throat.
She wanted out. She wanted to leave. She wanted a chance to expose the bastard that killed an innocent soul and took her away against her will.
But the only thing she knew at the moment was that getting upset would get her nowhere. Practicing a long intake of breath, Ingrid focused on hatching a plan. Getting out of the handcuffs would be the easy part of making it out of here alive, and so she couldn’t just up and leave without something solid.
The first obvious choice was trying to see if she could escape out the window. The sheets and curtains around her would be more than enough to fasten into some kind of rope—high quality fabric like this didn’t tear easy, so she was sure it would hold her weight.
The next thing was maybe disappearing into the woods, find a way she could gain a better vantage point of the estate—and if possible—steal a vehicle or convince someone to let her escape. She only hoped the next person she saw wasn’t as…willfully ignorant of her cries like the maid had been.
Returning to the cuffs, Ingrid wiggled her hands around the metal restraints. They were easily spaced enough for her to not feel completely held back, and being able to reach across the nightstand was simple enough.
Ingrid checked the drawers in the nightstand, grumbling to her when she found nothing she could use to break the chains or something.
Instead, she felt a stroke of an idea when her hands stumbled into a bottle and when she pulled it out, the determination flared when she noticed it was some kind of oil product.
Good. This makes getting out much easier.
She was already beginning to screw the cap open when the doorknob began to creak once more. Panic set in and Ingrid hurried to screw the bottle close and toss it back where she found it.
She managed to shut the drawer closed by the time the door slid open and she tried to appear like she hadn’t found a little something that gave her hope.
She had half-expected the maid to return, probably to offer some other ludicrous thing, but instead she was abruptly beneath the brown gaze of her captor—Leo.
“Good morning,” He spoke warmly.
Ingrid glared in response.
“Did you sleep well?”
She fought the urge to spit out a reply, remembering the actions of this man and the nervousness in her stomach churned nastily.
The last thing she wanted to do now was provoke him, and she wasn’t sure if he was as forgiving as his expression gave her. Someone like him couldn’t possibly be trusted.
Leo watched her, and she gave him a quick once over. He was dressed professionally. Loose black slacks, a simple button up white shirt, and a silver and gold tie drapped over his neck.
The clothing suited him, made him appear like had just returned from the office and wanting nothing more than
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