Blue Moon Brides: The Complete Series (65 page)

“Hey,” she said, gliding to a halt in front of him. Her eyes flickered down. Right. He had his arms crossed over his chest while he leaned back in the beribboned rental chair Riley had decided went with her wedding theme. He probably didn’t look any too friendly. He forced his body to relax. He didn’t want to run her off.

He wanted to hold her.             

Take her.

Win
her.

“Hey yourself,” he said. His voice sounded gruff, like he hadn’t done the small talk thing at all while she’d been off getting to know Luc a whole lot better.
Don’t think about it.

“Luc and I had some things to talk about.”

He didn’t want to hear about
talking
either, so he gently tugged her down into the empty seat beside him. He liked having her that close, his knee brushing against her leg, because he wouldn’t pull back any further. Crowding her just a little, reminding her that he was there. He would have preferred to park her sweet little butt on his lap, but he’d already pushed his luck today by bringing Luc’s mate to the wedding as his own fucking date. Riley would kill him if he and Luc fought it out in the middle of her reception and he’d deserve it. Riley had been planning this afternoon for months. Violence would keep until tomorrow.

“You get everythin’ settled?”

He had to know if he still had a chance. It was late afternoon, the time of day when the light took on a gold tinge as the sun thought about packing it in for the day. The color painting Gianna’s cheeks was a really pretty pink, however, that had nothing to do with the time or the weather. Right. Because it was awkward telling your date that you’d just snuck away for a quickie with someone else. He waited patiently. She’d tell him or she wouldn’t, and then he’d know where he stood.

“Luc wants me to give our relationship a chance.”

Usually, Cruz would have been all rah-rah supportive. No matter how much he played the field or enjoyed women, he believed in the mating bond and settling down with the one perfect someone. His Pack didn’t have this Blue Moon dating service bullshit that Luc’s Pack did, but that didn’t make their feelings any less intense or valid. So he stretched out his legs a little more, brushing against her bare legs. She jumped, but didn’t move away.
Victory
. Maybe this thing with Luc and her was only sex.

“Commitment is important,” he said, because fuck him if he had a script for this and he needed to add some words to the silence.

She nodded enthusiastically but then made a face. “We might have been almost married for ten years, but right now it feels more like ten hours.”

He was more interested in the last ten minutes.

“But you’re going to give him his chance.”

“It’s only fair.” Her blush deepened. “He asked for a week and I agreed.  I don’t know what I want, but he and I made promises to each other, even if we didn’t think them through, and we need to work it out. Is that a problem?”

The unspoken
for us
has his damned wolf whining in happy agreement. He could come to terms with sharing her body. It was her heart he wanted one hundred percent.

He shook his head. “Hell if I know, but it won’ make anythin’ easy.”

“You boys don’t do easy.” She flashed him a smile that made his insides melt into a puddle of happy.

He figured his slow grin was answer enough. “True.”

The wedding wound down around them, the caterers moving in to break down the tents. As they all gathered round to see the happy couple off, Riley shifted. One moment, she was the bride in white, and the next moment a small fox streaked over the bayou banks. Dag changed, tearing after her while everyone cheered.

“Your sister is a shifter.” Her words came out part statement, part sigh.

“You didn’t know about that? Luc brought you here. We all assumed that meant you knew.”
Tread carefully.

“I knew he was a wolf,” she said grimly. “Not that the place was a menagerie.”

“Ah. Yeah.”
Shoot
. “Yeah, about that. Riley’s my sister.”

He waited for her to make the connection. She was no biologist, but if Riley went furry, then what were the odds that Cruz did too?

“Are you…” She waved a hand at the fox tail just disappearing into the bayou undergrowth.

“I’m not a fox,” he said gently. “Our daddy was a wolf; we boys take after him.”

“I’m surrounded.”

“Pretty much, sugar.”

“I’m spending the next week with Luc,” she reminded him, blurting the words out, like she’d been trying to work her way up to them and then given up on finesse.

He’d bet that Luc had every intention of using his week to convince her otherwise. It was what he would have done.

“I can’t be getting’ in the middle of that.” But he wanted to. The words tumbled out of his mouth before he could apply the verbal brake. “You goin’ to give me the next week?”

The way her face turned scarlet was so cute. Maybe it was a human thing, being embarrassed at the possibility of having sex with two guys. It was different for him. The sex was important, sure, but the emotions that went with it were key. At the end of the day, sex was just a case of body parts getting along and having a real good time. Apparently, he could accept Luc in her bed as long as Cruz himself was the one she was holding in her heart.

“Please,” he added roughly. “You give him a chance, you give me a chance. Then you do any deciding you need to do.”

Her short, jerky nod surprised the hell out of him. Holy mother of…she’d agreed.

“Is that a promise?”
Pushing your luck, wolf man.

“Yeah.” She stared at him, surprise painted all over her face. “It is.”

It was no fucking surprise that Luc strode over to them, an unmistakable note of possession in his eyes. “Time for us to go.”

Luc dropped his hands onto Gianna’s shoulders in a clear message. Cruz watched carefully. He didn’t think the other male would hurt Gianna but, mating bond or no mating bond, he also wasn’t letting her go until he was damned sure she was safe. Like he didn’t care about his rival’s presence, Luc stroked her collarbone and the sensitive hollows there. Nothing hurtful. Shit, no. Luc had it as bad for Gianna as Cruz did, which just left the situation more fucked up than ever. When Gianna chose between them, there was every chance war would break out between the Packs.

“It’s not night yet,” she said and Cruz caught the warning there, even as he didn’t know what the hell the two of them were talking about because they were continuing a private conversation. Yeah. He wasn’t that much of a dumb shit. The two of them had an inside thing going on.

“Sun’s down soon,” Luc countered, following up his words with more fingertip action. Gianna melted against him and Cruz discovered that defeat was a hollow, achy feeling in the pit of his stomach. Still, she’d promised him a week. That was something right there. She hadn’t chosen yet.

He stood up. Choice or no choice, watching Luc touch Gianna wasn’t something he could deal with right now. “Take care of her.”

“I will.” Luc’s no-bullshit gaze held Cruz’s. Those two words sound too much like the wedding vows Riley and Dag had traded earlier in the day in a family-only ceremony deep in the bayou.

Luc could fuck off.

“I’ll see you in a week,” he said and dropped a kiss on her cheek.

Chapter Four

Luc strode towards the bayou. No surprise, but he was a possessive bastard. He’d have said he deserved a fucking medal for reining himself in, but who Gianna slept with wasn’t his call.

Even if it was his fantasy.

“I’ll take you home,” he said. He’d left his boat tied up down at the water’s edge. Once he got her deep her into the bayou, he’d coax her into paying attention to him. Remind her why he wasn’t such a bad bargain, one kiss at a time. It wasn’t kidnapping. Just…persuasion.

She wasn’t stupid. “Define home.”

“My place,” he said, tucking her small hand into his.

She dug in her heels, all four sexy inches of them. “And all of my things are back at the B&B. I’d rather go there.”

The inn might not be the safest place for her. Cruz would watch like a hawk—it stood in the heart of his territory—but the place was also the logical hidey-hole for a guest in Port Leon to stay. If any of The Breed had followed her from Baton Rouge, the inn would likely be first on their hit list.

“Hell,
shug
. I don’ know if that place is safe or not.”

The Breed were not known for their progressive stance on women’s rights—or even a fundamental belief in fair play. The gang members played hard and they played for keeps. A male earned his place in that Pack with his fists and his teeth. For a female, the only option was on her back and, even though, most of them were pass-arounds.

She eyeballed him calmly, but she started moving again. “I’m a lawyer. I’m not an innocent flower. If there’s danger, you tell me.”

“Got it.” She was
his
to protect though, and he wouldn’t fuck this up the way he apparently had the last ten years.

“I’m also not stupid, nor do I have my head in the sand. You tell me to your face that you believe there is a credible threat to my safety if I return to the inn, and I’ll listen. I came down here because my partners believed getting out of Baton Rouge temporarily was a good idea. If it wasn’t enough, then give me the facts.”

He handed her down into the boat. The boat was stripped down and built for speed, light enough to skim over the swamp. He’d needed to ride the open water today and not the road. Now, he was glad. The bayou waterways were safer for Gianna than the roads.

“I’m the Alpha of the Breauxs. Cruz, he’s the Alpha of the Port Leon pack.”

“So I’ve been told on multiple occasions.” Her lips curled up in a saucy smile, all but begging for a kiss. He could do that. Leaning in, he kissed her hard and quick.

“Coming down here would usually qualify as dropping off the radar, but the biker gang isn’t human. Not entirely, and definitely not the leadership.”

“They’re werewolves,” she said.

They were definitely that. He started the boat and pointed them towards the darkness.

“I’ll send someone for your things,” he compromised.

“Telling, not talking.” She didn’t look at him, staring out into the bayou. Birds rose up as the boat moved away from the bank, the bullfrogs singing a bass song. The bayou was peaceful and quiet, the water and the cypress trees wrapped in shadows.

“Those werewolves will look for you with the other Packs first, especially once Cruz’s name hits the paperwork.”

“Okay, then.” She kicked off her heels with a blissed-out sigh and tucked her legs up beneath her.

“Do you trust me?” He needed her to say it.

“For seven more nights.”

~*~

The sky darkened overhead, stars coming out and the swamp came alive around them. Herons rose up out of the reeds, wings beating through the air, racing the frigate birds for the horizon. A fish jumped out of the water, a silver flash here and then gone.

“You mind the dark?” Luc steered effortlessly, hands on the wheel, legs braced against the water’s gentle bump and swell. He’d pulled off his shirt and rolled up his pants. He was barefoot and, God help her, the man even had sexy feet. He exuded strength and confidence as he guided them deeper into the bayou. This was his territory. His home. The only outsider here was her.

He must have interpreted her shrug as a negative, because he stepped away from the wheel for a moment and snagged a lantern, lighting the wick with a flick of his fingers.

“Company for you,” was all he said as he set it down beside her.

“Are we almost there?” A gator roared somewhere too close by for comfort, the harsh bark echoing off the cypress trees. The dark surface of the water rippled away from her pool of light in a spreading vee.

He gave his attention back to the water. “Fifteen minutes.”

The lantern’s light reflected across the dark water in crooked stretches. Once, a gator bobbed in the brown water, yellow eyes gleaming as it watched her. She was glad not to be swimming—or dinner. The rough wooden seat beneath her was a welcome anchor.

The moon rose above the bayou, full and white.

Luc flicked a glance up at the moon and then over at her. “Moon’s a full one.”

Something teased her memory, a quick flash of their Vegas night, and then nothing. Whatever it had been, the thought was lost once more in her subconscious and must not have been important.

The Breauxs’ camp seemed to rise up out of the swamp in front of them. Deep in the bayou, the brothers had a collection of cabins on stilts and houseboats. The set-up was charming in a ramshackle way, but damned if it didn’t smack somewhat of a trailer park in the middle of a swamp. Crickets exploded in bursts of sound as they motored through a curtain of Spanish moss. She checked her phone—zero bars—and discovered their silent boat ride through the swamp had taken almost forty minutes. Even if she’d wanted to, hotfooting it back to the B&B was now an impossibility.

Luc guided them past the spongy banks, thick curtains of moss parting around the boat’s prow. A snake slid off a low-hanging branch and into the water. Roots broke the dark surface, visible only as they glided past. Thick clumps of spikey reeds brushed against the boat’s side and, when she reached out a hand, she touched duckweed and water hyacinth.

Lights spilled out of some of the cabins, while others were dark. Maybe not everyone had made it back from the reception yet. Or maybe the members of Luc’s pack preferred maintaining separate space. She had no idea how these wolves lived.

“Dag’s taking Riley on a honeymoon,” Luc said out of nowhere.

She had no idea what to say to that, other than the obvious. “Where did they go?”

“When he catches up with her?” Amusement colored Luc’s voice. “Tomorrow’s he got plane tickets for a casita on the beach near Tulum.”

She tried—and failed—to imagine werewolves on a beach vacation. She’d spent several weeks herself exploring the wild beaches south of Cancun, reveling in the harsh pounding of the waves on the shore and the crumbling ruins perched above the flat blue of the ocean. It seemed about as far removed from werewolf territory as she could imagine.

Luc killed the motor, angling them towards a small, plantation-style cabin set back some from the others.

“Your place?”

“Mine,” he agreed, a rough note in his voice.

He tied up, then helped her up. Putting her heels back on seemed suicidal, so she let him swing her up onto the dock, curling her feet into the sun-warmed wood. The door opened easily when Luc pushed—no keys necessary this far out into the bayou. He had at least two rooms, a screened-in porch and a bedroom beyond that.

“
Bienvenue
.” His rough Cajun accent sent shivers down her spine and made her hyper-conscious of his warm palm pressed lightly against the small of her back. Here they were. And…now what? Her pulse was a drumbeat of anticipation, the glimpse of the big four-poster bed with mosquito netting making her imagine all sorts of possibilities. Tied up, held down…
taken
. Okay. So she had a few fantasies. That had been the point of coming here—to see if in-the-flesh Luc measured up to her memories.

He stepped away and lit a row of creamy white candles. The scent of citronella filled the air.

“I’m goin’ to check on your things.” He pointed towards a second door. “There’s hot water for a bath if you wan’.”

The indecision paralyzing her in the middle of his cabin was out of character. She’d driven her life for the last fifteen years or so. College. Law school. Career. Check, check and check. Their night in Vegas had been a delicious blip in her road trip to financial and emotional security, but even then she’d known how that would end. She’d been in charge. Her hotel room, her girls’ night out. This place and this time were Luc’s. She might have agreed to let him take charge, but after she’d said the words, he’d done exactly that. The sex had better be damn good because she hated, hated, hated feeling this off-balance and out-of-control.

Hot water did sound good. She thought about Luc and the wedding while she padded towards the direction he’d pointed. Sure enough, the man had himself a bathroom in the heart of the bayou. She decided not to ask how or why, because she damned sure hadn’t come here for a lesson in bayou building codes. Instead, she shut the bathroom door behind her—some thing she wasn’t ready to share—and took care of business while she ran hot water into the claw-foot tub. Twisted her hair up on top of her head and stepped in.

She was almost asleep when the door open, lulled by the steamy air, scented with lavender and hyacinth. The hot water had worked out the day’s kinks and she’d grabbed a hand towel, rolling it up and shoving it beneath her neck.

Opening her eyes was almost too much work. “You ever considered knocking?”

“Not really,” he said gruffly. He was honest. She had to give him that.

She cracked an eye to stare at him. God, he was worth looking at. “You think it’s possible to housetrain a werewolf?”

She drifted in a cloud of relaxed, arousal a low-level buzz. See? There was nothing scary about this. Nothing to worry about. Luc was still fully dressed although he’d lost the boots at some point. That still didn’t make them even since she was naked, but whatever. She’d work on getting his clothes off him.

Promises…

“Time to come out.” He prowled towards the edge of the tub, a towel in his dark hands. He reached into the tub for her, lifting her out with one powerful arm while he worked the towel around her with the other. The tameness was an illusion, she realized. Cradled against his powerful chest, she couldn’t help but compare her body with his. Soft to his hard. He was bigger. Stronger. Although likely not
meaner
. She’d earned her reputation in the courtroom after all.

He ran a thumb over the corner of her mouth, where the smile tipped up her lips. “Penny for your thoughts.”

“You’ve obviously never hired legal help or you’d know my hourly billing rate is far, far higher than a penny.” She slid her arms around his neck, hanging on as he stood. He didn’t seem to mind her weight and that right there was grounds for celebration.

“Uh-huh. I don’ get a discount?”

He carried her out of the bathroom, abandoning the tub. His bedroom was shadowy and smelled like geranium and vanilla. He sat down on the edge of the bed, still holding her.

“I was thinking about you,” she admitted. So much for having a tactical advantage.

He must have liked the sound of that because there was no missing the erection pushing against her backside. Her towel and his pants suddenly seemed like no barrier at all.

“Let’s get you dried off,” he said, but he pulled the clips out of her hair first, letting the heavy weight fall down her back, running the strands through his fingers.

Then he ran the towel down her arms, over her breasts. Cotton rasped against her nipples, teasing them into hard points. Then lower down her belly, over the round curve she hated, moving south.
Oh.

He covered her mouth with his, his tongue taking over. Pushing inside her, exploring and tasting ruthlessly. Her body fired right up, on board with his interest, her breasts ached for more of his touch.

He ran the towel slowly over her mound, exerting a soft, sweet pressure where all her attention was centered.
Wicked.

More pressure, the cotton pushing in a bare half inch. The erotic friction drove her crazy, heat roaring through her body. She trembled and held still and tried to push deeper into his touch. More. Less. He made her feel so much. The air shot out of her lungs, her breathing a harsh pant.

“Luc.” She said his name once, then chanted it like it was a lifeline in the erotic maelstrom.

“
Oui
,” he whispered. He might have said something else, something more. Lost in the pleasure, she didn’t give a damn. He dragged the cotton over her clit, giving her more of that sweet friction she craved. His fingers worked deeper between her folds, the towel the only barrier between them. Rough-gentle.
Perfect.

He shattered her, held her close as she came apart for him. Whimpered his name and twisted her fingers in his shirt because she needed him closer still. The pleasure and the white heat swallowed her up and she let it happen, because she had no self-control around this man.