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    Beneath a Rising Moon

    Page 6
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      the stains from his sweater and jeans. And couldn’t help

      noticing—or feeling—the huge bulge of his excitement.

      An odd slither of feminine satisfaction ran through

      her. At least he couldn’t deny his interest in her when the

      evidence of it was so clearly visible.

      “Will there be anything else, sir?” she said, voice a

      little more breathy than she would have liked.

      His smile smoked her insides. “Not right now.”

      She nodded and retreated to the other side of the diner.

      “Impressive move,” Ari whispered in admiration. “I’ll

      have to remember that one.”

      Her smile felt tight. Ari wasn’t likely to believe it had

      been an accident any more than Duncan had.

      The time dragged by. He finished his meal and sipped

      his coffee, which she kept topped-off. Everything she did,

      everywhere she went, she could feel his gaze on her—a

      heated caress that promised far more than it would

      probably deliver.

      By three, with the crowd thinning out, she was close

      to nervous exhaustion. Her dad came out of the kitchen,

      folding down the collar of the jacket he now wore over his

      uniform. “I’m heading over to pick Mother up at the

      hospital. You coming?”

      She shook her head. She didn’t need to go into that

      sterile place to see her twin. She could see her anytime

      she liked by simply opening her thoughts. And she would

      know a lot sooner than any damn doctor when Sav had

      woken.

      “Your mother thinks you should.”

      “I hate hospitals, you know that.” They were too full

      of pain, too full of misery and hurt, and it overwhelmed

      even the strongest of her shields. “Savannah will

      understand, believe me.”

      “Your mother won’t.”

      “Mom doesn’t run my life any more.” Though she

      certainly tried. Neva had images of being sixty and still

      crossing swords with her disapproving parent. “I’ll finish

      up here and close once the last of our customers leave.”

      He nodded. “Don’t forget dinner.”

      As if she dared.

      “Now’s your chance,” Ari whispered the minute Levon

      walked out the door. “Go chat with that delicious man.”

      There were three customers still in the diner, and Ari

      herself. If Neva was going to confront Duncan’s demands,

      she’d rather do it when they were alone. “I don’t know.”

      “Oh for moon’s sake, he’s been watching you all

      afternoon. What have you got to lose?”

      Nothing but my sanity, she thought. And what

      remained of her self-esteem. But she took her apron off,

      grabbed the coffee pot and a cup for herself, and walked

      across to his booth.

      “Sit,” he said, voice soft but holding no inflection.

      She slid into his booth and poured herself a coffee.

      She didn’t refill his, simply shoved the coffee pot his way.

      A tight smile touched his full lips.

      “No longer the charming host, I see.”

      “I’m on a break. What do you want?” Her voice held

      an edge.

      “You,” he all but drawled. “Why else would I be here?”

      Something in the tone of his voice sent a tingle of

      anticipation crawling across her skin. Which was

      ridiculous when the only pleasure he seemed to care about

      was his own.

      “Well, we do make the best burgers in town.”

      Amusement touched his obsidian gaze, a warmth so

      fleeting she wondered if she’d imagined it. “But they’re

      not as tasty as the morsel I tried from here last night.”

      Her cheeks flamed in memory, and she dragged her

      gaze from his. It was far safer to stare at her coffee than

      into his soulless eyes. “Tell me what you want,” she

      repeated.

      He crossed his arms and leaned forward. “Look at me,”

      he demanded.

      Almost against her will, her gaze rose to his. How could

      a man with a face so beautiful be so totally devoid of

      anything resembling humanity?

      “My pack is having a fancy dress dance tonight,

      separate from the main one. You will accompany me, and

      you will wear the outfit I have in this box.”

      She stared at him, her stomach churning. “I won’t be

      shared. I don’t care what your sordid dance rules say,

      you can’t demand that of me.”

      Amusement touched his lips, but again held little

      warmth. “Have no fear there, little wolf. You are mine,

      and only mine, for the remainder of the week.”

      Relief slithered through her—though it was hardly

      much comfort knowing she had to submit to his uncaring

      touch for the next five days. Even if that was what she

      had planned.

      She looked at the box, hating to think what sort of

      outfit he’d chosen for her. Probably a hooker, if his recent

      treatment was anything to go by. “What if the outfit doesn’t

      fit?”

      “You’ll try it on. If it doesn’t fit, I’ll exchange it.”

      “I’ll take it into the back room and try it on now, if

      you’d like.” She started to rise, but he clamped a hand on

      her arm, stopping her. His fingers burned against the chill

      of her skin, searing heat deep.

      “No. Later, when your friend and customers have left.”

      She sat back down, her gaze locked by his. And knew,

      with sickening certainty, that he intended to take what

      he’d missed out on last night. Right here in this diner,

      where her dad would return within the hour.

      “Don’t.” Her voice held a note of pleading, but she

      didn’t care. “Please, not here.”

      He raised an eyebrow. “Do you deny it is my right?”

      Damn it, I promised you the nights, not the days. You

      can’t make me do this.

      Oh, but I can. His mind voice was silky.

      Her throat was drier than the Sahara. She licked her

      lips, wishing she could pick up her coffee and throw it in

      his face. But she couldn’t, simply because her hands were

      shaking so much most of it would be spilled over the table

      long before she tossed it at him. “What do you mean?”

      He reached across the table, capturing her hand,

      turning it palm side up. His thumb stroked her wrist, a

      gentle, almost possessive caress that sent shivers of desire

      skating across her skin. God, she hated that he could do

      this to her—and so damn easily.

      “When you participate in certain sports, you should

      always make sure you understand the rules before you

      start to play.”

      “Meaning?”

      “Remember what I asked, and how you replied, before

      our first mating?”

      The first, and probably only, time of magic between

      them—and one she wasn’t likely to forget, especially over

      the next few days. “Yeah. So?”

      “So, those words were actually an ancient spell of

      binding. They allow me to enforce my will on you.”

      A cold chill ran down her spine. “You’re kidding.”

      He raised an eyebrow. “Am I? Shall we test the theory

      right now?”


      “No.” Her voice was little more than a breathy whisper

      of horror. “Not here.”

      His smile was mirthless. “Reach up with your left hand

      and undo the top button of your uniform.”

      Energy slithered across her skin, through her skin,

      became a noose that slipped around her mind and pulled

      tight. She fought the compulsion with every ounce of

      strength she had, but her hand still rose, her fingers

      trembling as they touched the button.

      “Damn you to hell,” she muttered, tears touching her

      eyes. She couldn’t let him get away with it, no matter

      what he did to her afterward. She wasn’t defenseless, and

      it was about time he realized that.

      She channelled her fear, her humiliation, into a thin

      lance of energy and flung it back at him.

      It hit him with enough force to throw him back in the

      seat. His gaze went wide, eyes filled for the briefest of

      moments by the echo of everything she was feeling. Then

      his shields slammed home, and the lance died.

      “What the hell was that?”

      “A taste of what you’ll get if you try to use the binding

      on me,” she said. “You’ll pay for my submissiveness, let

      me tell you.”

      He studied her for a moment, then smiled. It held very

      little warmth. “Thank you for warning me. I’ll be sure I

      stop you from using your gifts before I issue any orders

      from now on.”

      She wanted to smack him. She really did. She clenched

      her fists, but rose and walked away instead. This was her

      doing, her mess. What sort of fool was she to believe she

      could enter into any sort of sexual game with a man like

      Duncan Sinclair and come away unscathed?

      “So?” Ari whispered. “How did it go?”

      She forced a warm smile. “I’ll tell you tomorrow. For

      now, consider yourself rushed out the door.”

      “Now that sounds promising.” Ari dropped a kiss on

      Neva’s cheek, then picked up her bag and coat. “I want

      details. Lots of details. And remember the bicarb.”

      Once she’d left, Neva headed into the kitchen, checking

      to ensure that everything was turned off, then walked

      around the building, locking the doors and windows. The

      diner’s front door was the last one she locked.

      “Don’t,” he said softly when she reached for the blind.

      She froze for a moment, then grabbed the base of the

      blind and yanked it down anyway. A second later, it rolled

      back up, clattering noisily against the frame.

      “Telekinesis,” he said gravely, “can be a handy gift in

      situations like this.”

      She took a deep breath, but it did little to ease the

      trembling deep inside. Only trouble was, she knew it wasn’t

      all fear. The full moon was closer tonight, and the wildness

      was raging to be free. She clenched her fists and turned

      around.

      Without the lights on, the diner was filled with dusky

      shadows. Evening came early here in the mountains, and

      of that she was glad. At least it meant if anyone did walk

      by, there’d be less chance of them seeing what was

      happening inside the diner.

      Her gaze clashed with his and, for the briefest moment,

      amusement flashed in the dark depths of his eyes. Then

      it was gone, locked behind the shutters.

      “Come over here,” he said, voice as seductive as the

      kiss of silk against skin.

      She forced her reluctant feet forward. He’d shifted from

      the booth to a table, turning his chair sideways and

      stretching his long legs out in front of him. The small

      parcel was still sitting on the booth’s seat.

      “Undress.”

      He could have been asking her to clear the table for

      all the emotion he showed. She stared at him, but she

      knew she had no real choice. Sure, she could make him

      pay, but his shields were almost as strong as hers. Now

      that she’d so stupidly warned him, they’d undoubtedly

      remain up and would take most of the sting of an empathic

      attack. Her gift was a weapon best used when a victim’s

      mind was wide open and unaware.

      And she’d much rather be embarrassed of her own

      free will than be forced into it. And in the end, no matter

      how she fought him, he would force her.

      She slipped off her shoes and slowly began undoing

      the buttons on the front of her dress. Hunger slipped warm

      and bright between them, caressing her mind with its heat.

      She threw her dress on the other seat, followed quickly by

      her panties and bra.

      His gaze all but devoured her, and pinpricks of desire

      skidded across her skin. Her nipples puckered, as if in

      anticipation of his touch, and the longing he’d left

      unquenched last night stirred anew.

      “What now?” she said, crossing her arms.

      He leaned forward, gripped her elbows, and pulled her

      forward. “Straddle me.”

      She did. He was as hard as she was achy, and she

      couldn’t help the fleeting wish that he were as naked as

      she.

      He raised a hand, skimming his knuckles down her

      neck and between her breasts. Goose bumps scurried

      across her skin, and her heart hammered so loudly its

      beat seemed to echo through the silence.

      His hand slipped around her waist then rested against

      her back, pressing heat into her spine as he gently pushed

      her forward. His tongue skimmed her skin, trailing fire

      and sending a delicious shiver of anticipation through her

      body. He outlined a breast with that liquid touch, circling

      it, gradually working his way inward. He teased the outer

      edges of that dark circle, but never touched the aching,

      sensitive center.

      Sweat skittered across her skin, and every muscle

      quivered. Ached. His whisper-soft touch moved to her other

      breast. By the time he’d finished circling its center, she

      thought she was going to die with frustration.

      He moved on, tasting her collarbone, her neck. Kissed

      her ear, her cheek, before finally claiming her mouth. It

      was a long, slow possession that left her gasping for breath.

      His kiss eventually made its way down her neck. When

      his mouth closed around one aching nipple, she groaned

      at the sweet delight of it. He sucked hard, sending glorious

      waves of pleasure lapping across her skin, then claimed

      her other nipple, repeating the process, leaving her

      moaning in enjoyment.

      “What are you doing for dinner?” he whispered, his

      breath searing her skin as he kissed her throat.

      She blinked at the unexpected question. “Eating with

      my parents.” The slither of unease surfaced again. “Why?”

      “Don’t you think they should meet the man you’re

      spending the next five days with?”

      She stared at him, her throat so dry it ached. “What

      do you mean?”

      “I mean that I want you by my side, and in my bed,

      night and day.”

      Horror slid through her. She tried to push away, tried

      to stand, but his hand held her securely in
    place. “You

      can’t. I won’t.” And yet, deep down, she had to acknowledge

      this was the chance she’d been looking for. It would offer

      her the freedom, night and day, she needed to roam the

      mansion, talk to the people within the pack—and hunt

      down the killer.

      But the cost would be her parent’s respect. Was that

      too high a price to pay?

      She remembered the torn and bloodied remains of the

      woman who’d been killed last night. Remembered the way

      her sister had looked, swathed in bandages, so small and

      frail and pale against the antiseptic brightness of the

      hospital. Relived the horror of the moment she’d shared

      with her twin when the wolf had attacked her.

      Was the cost too high? She couldn’t honestly say.

      “You have no right to demand this.”

      He raised an eyebrow, a gesture that was both eloquent

      and arrogant. “No right, but certainly the will.”

      “You must know my parents are old school.”

      Desperation touched her voice, but right then, she didn’t

      care. “They don’t believe in the dance or mating for

      pleasure. Something like this will kill them.”

      He still caressed her, sending tremors of longing rolling

      through her. It was as if she were a well-tuned instrument

      designed only for his touch. As much as she wanted to,

      she couldn’t kill her desire,.

      “Would you rather I wait until dark, walk into that

      dinner of yours, and demand you uphold your promise to

      mate with me right there and then?”

      Her stomach clenched tight, and for a moment she

      thought she was going to throw up. “You wouldn’t.” But

      even as she said it, she knew he would. He was the wildest

      of the wild, and seemed overly eager to live up to his

      reputation—no matter what that might do to her.

      And she had no one to blame but herself.

      She licked her lips, searched desperately for an

      argument that might work. “I have to work here during

      the day.”

      “You’ve never taken a vacation? Hasn’t anyone ever

      filled in for you?”

      “That’s beside the point.”

      “No, it’s not. I want you, and I shall have you. I will

      play the charming suitor if you wish, but you will leave

      with me after dinner, and you will stay with me the next

      five days.”

      She stared at him helplessly. Part of her did want this—

     


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