Read Seducing a Wolf: Moonbound Series, Book Five Online
Authors: Krystal Shannan,Camryn Rhys
Seducing a Wolf: Moonbound Series, Book Five (11 page)
Her mate was here. On the dock. On one of the boats. She couldn’t tell where yet, but he was. She plodded forward, gritting her teeth. Feeling magick had always been easy for her. She could sense things long before others in her pack. She knew what it felt like to have Fate send a friend. To have Fate send a teacher. There were different signals she’d picked up on throughout her life, for herself and for others. But never in all her life had she felt such an overwhelming desire to be connected to another person.
Each step brought her closer. She’d inspected each boat she’d passed, feeling for crew members, but the magick pushed her forward, closer and closer to the last boat on the dock.
The White Pearl.
Luther’s boat.
“You’ve got to be shitting me,” she hissed under her breath, leaning against a tall pylon. “It’s times like these when I’m convinced you’re a woman,” she spat out into the air. “You certainly have a woman’s sense of humor.” Not that Fate would hear her, but at least she’d gotten it off her chest.
The magickal cord pulling her down the dock tightened again and tugged her closer to the boat. Luther had been her destination all along. Apparently, according to Fate, he was also her mate.
“I’m going,” she whispered, creeping closer to the boat and to Luther. His bare broad shoulders glistened in the sun where he stacked crates in the middle of the deck.
She stepped onto the gangway and froze when he turned and looked at her. His brown eyes burned with heat and anger and a healthy dose of confusion.
“Get off my boat,” he growled.
“Are you Luther Frost?” She knew he was, but at the moment she couldn’t put a more coherent question together. Her eyes strayed to his corded arms and sculpted pecs.
Gods have mercy.
L
uther ground
his teeth against whatever damn thing buzzed through his body. He just wanted to get his work done. Why wouldn’t they fucking leave him alone?
“Whatever you’ve got, just leave it on the dock. I’ve got work to do.”
The little sprite of a woman cocked her head. “What a gentleman you are.”
“Never claimed to be one. Now, get off my boat.” He took another crate from off the pile and moved it aside. The damn thing had to be here somewhere.
She took another step across the dark surface of the gangway. He could see her lime green mesh aggressive-tread trail shoes in the corner of his eye. What the hell was she doing on the beach in two-hundred-dollar hiking shoes?
His gaze continued to travel up the tightly-muscled legs, all the way up her fit little body. She was certainly easy on the eyes. Her tattooed arms were covered in dark blue and green ink, and she had short, spikey, dark hair and the darkest eyes he had ever seen. Or did they just look dark against her creamy, pinky skin?
What the fuck
? Why was he waxing eloquent about a chick in hiking shoes? Especially a chick who just needed to get the hell off his boat.
“Something wrong?” she asked, smirking.
“Other than the mountain of fucking work I have to do?” He moved another crate, focusing his energy on the task at hand. “No.”
“You don’t have some jackhole comment about my outfit?” She grabbed the white ropes on his gangway and her athletic body swayed. There were some perky little tits under the fabric of that gray t-shirt, and her nipples were occasionally visible, when she moved just the right way.
“I don’t give a shit about what you wear.” He stretched his back and put both hands on the pile of crates. “I don’t have time to fuck around or be the nice local who gives you directions to whatever tourist shit you’re looking for. This isn’t one of those hire-out boats. I have a real job.”
She took another step and stood at the edge of his gangway. His skin itched and he found himself flexing his shoulders. Everything was suddenly on edge.
“I know what your job is, Luther Frost.”
The sentence froze him stiff, with a crate in his hands. He eyed the little woman. Could she be a test from Adrian? How would she know who he was? She wasn’t one of the hotel staff, she wasn’t a client, and she wasn’t a distributor.
“I’m not going to tell you again.” He forced his muscles to move and set down the crate, leaning against it. “Get off my boat.”
She dangled one green shoe off the end of the gangway, twisting her foot back and forth. “Technically, I’m not on your boat. So I can’t get off.”
Ignoring her jab, he took another crate off the pile and saw the red stamp he’d been looking for. The dumb blonde who had been sent from the hotel to bring the last of the shipment had obviously not been a regular, because she didn’t know to leave the red stamp crates on the top.
He picked it up and walked past the foot-dangling pixie girl, toward the back cabin. But as he passed her, the pull toward her was visceral. Every part of him wanted to reach out for her.
Thank God his hands were full.
Luther ignored the random thoughts and kept going. The very secret and very illegal ammunition needed not to be out in the open where any tourist could pop the crate open and find the giant JHPs Adrian ordered by the crate.
If his buddies could see him now, hiding illegal ammunition on his smuggling boat.
He set the crate on the stairs by the wheelhouse and a pang of regret weaseled its way across his chest. Fuck it. He thought he’d killed all that long ago.
Steps behind him caught his attention and Luther whirled around. The pixie girl had one of the red stamp crates in her hands and followed him like a puppy. Anger rose up, climbing from the pit of his stomach, all the way into his throat.
Luther grabbed the crate out of her hands. “I told you not to touch anything.”
“No, you didn’t.” She narrowed those pretty eyes at him. “You said to get off your boat, when I wasn’t even on it.”
“Well, don’t fucking touch anything.” He ground his teeth and set the last red stamp crate on top of the other.
“I’m not going away just because you’re an asshole to me.”
When Luther turned back around, he found her standing with her legs wide, arms crossed, and face all hard lines. She was pissed? Hell,
he
was pissed.
“Yes, you are going away.”
She shook her head and anchored herself to the side of the boat. “Look. I need your help.”
In spite of himself, he barked out a laugh. “You can’t have it.”
“I’m not kidding.” She reached in front of him, putting her arm through the path of his exit. “And you’re going to help me.”
He stepped, toe-to-toe with her, and something warm coursed through his body like wildfire eating through a prairie hillside. With a little shake of his head, he studied the planes of her face.
Where the hell did she get off ordering him around
?
But when he opened his mouth to say those exact words, his throat was dry and his air was stuck, and he couldn’t move his tongue. He just stood there, like a jackass, flapping his jaw wordlessly.
“You’re going to help me,” she repeated, “because you’re a good guy.”
Even the burning thing that seemed to have set his body on fire couldn’t shield him from the lance to the heart with those words.
He took a step forward and, almost to get out of his way, she stepped backward. But Luther kept advancing on her, driving her back until her progress was stopped by the wall of the wheelhouse. He put a hand on either side of her head and leaned in to her face with menace in his heart.
“You don’t know me,” he growled against the stab of those words. “I am not a good guy.”
In a strange, almost ethereal movement, her small hand snaked onto his cheek. The contact of her skin ignited the wildfire inside once again, and he had to catch his breath to steel himself against.
“You are a good guy, Luther.” Her eyebrows knit close together, giving her eyes a sadness that assaulted him. “You don’t know what I know.”
He shook his head and gripped her wrist hard, making her wince. He wanted to push her away, he wanted to throw her off the boat, he wanted to punch something. But the air between them was on fire, and something big and heavy pushed him into her when he wanted nothing more than to run off the edge of the boat and jump in the water and swim until his body gave out…just to get away from whatever had lit between them.
Luther tried to push her way, but his body wouldn’t do it. Fear gripped him hard by the throat and squeezed.
This woman was dangerous. He needed to get away from her.
Now
.
Book 2: The Werewolf Bodyguard
C
OMING
IN FEBRUARY AND MARCH
I
f you enjoyed Seducing a Wolf
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K
rystal Shannan
, also known as Emma Roman, lives in a sprawling ranch style home with her husband, daughter, and a pack of rescue Basset Hounds. She is an advocate for the American Society of Autism and shares the experiences and adventures she’s been through with her daughter whenever she can.
Needless to say, life is never boring when you have an elementary-aged special needs child and half a dozen 4-legged friends roaming the house. They keep her and her husband busy, smiling, and laughing.
Krystal writes magick and Emma doesn’t. If you are looking for leisurely-paced sweet romance, her books are probably not for you. However, for those looking for a story filled with adventure, passion, and just enough humor to make you laugh out loud. Welcome home!
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