Seduced by the Moon

In all truth, she had to admit, being in this cabin for a few days by herself, with her dad’s things, had caused her more discomfort than seeing Danny’s face when she told him the engagement was off.

The men in her life were gone, and she was far too intelligent to imagine that velvet-voiced rangers could have stepped out of her dreams.

As for monsters...

The moon would be completely full in another twenty-four hours, a big deal in werewolf lore, at least in the movies. If the approaching moon was some kind of supernatural stimulant, all werewolves would be affected. If there were such things as man-wolf creatures, her dream lover would be affected, too. And with her dad’s gun under her pillow, she’d be ready for anything that dream had to offer.

Chapter 3 (#ulink_4cd7c6e1-3540-5a03-a6e0-1c418237c2cc)

Gavin hadn’t found the trail of the creature he sought. Although he’d gotten close enough to taste its feral presence, one too many detours had brought him back, time and time again, to stare at the cabin, wishing to see her.

He hadn’t meant to circle back. He had, in fact, been heading in the opposite direction. Yet here he was again, staring down at the blasted cabin, telling himself, “Don’t be an idiot. No one needs a woman that bad.”

Obviously, he didn’t believe that on some level.

The beast he hunted, which had a fondness for blood and sacrifices, disappeared just after midnight. After following its malevolent stench south, the damn thing vanished into thin air. He’d spent a fruitless night backtracking all over the mountain, and more time searching throughout the day to make sure he hadn’t missed anything crucial. Now, once again, darkness wasn’t far off, putting him a hell of a lot closer to the phase of the moon that counted.

He eyed the cabin warily, figuring that if his interest in the woman down there kept up, he’d have to chain himself to the Jeep to avoid showing up on her doorstep, in person. The next time he confronted that woman, she might do more than point the weapon in his direction. She might actually pull the trigger.

He thought about that gun, and what it might do to him.

It was possible that he could he survive a bullet at close range, but it would certainly slow him down. When the beast inside him took over, several bullets might be required to make a permanent dent.

In theory, anyway.

He’d only tested his survival skills once, when he was accidentally hit by an arrow fired at him by mistake. That hunter now spent time in a cell.

And by the way...that arrow had been a bitch.

Gavin searched the clearing.

The cabin looked quiet in the evening light, though he knew the woman hadn’t taken his advice and hit the road. A ribbon of gray smoke rose from the chimney.

Stubborn streak?

Who in their right mind remained resistant to a ranger’s warning, or stepped outside in the middle of the night to face anyone or anything that might be out there?

Not courageous, necessarily. More like impulsive.

Maybe she gets off on danger.

And just maybe he’d make it his business to find out.

Besides, he was ravenous for company, and the smoke coming from the cabin carried the smell of food. If he knocked on the door, was there was a remote possibly she’d invite him in for a bite?

Gavin shook his head, rubbed his eyes.

She shouldn’t be alone. The last death out here had been gruesome. Some poor doctor found in a gulley, sliced to shreds. Gavin had an idea about how that might have happened, and that idea didn’t include a slippery trail. But he couldn’t speak of it to anyone. Who’d believe him?

The doctor who had occupied the cabin died just ten days ago, which made the new occupant’s tenancy a quick turnaround. Possibly the woman was part of that man’s family.

She’d probably have her pants on today.

Smiling felt strange. So did the compulsion to go down there. He didn’t know why this woman’s presence was so intriguing to him that his vow of celibacy strained at its leash.

He was way too hungry for everything that cabin had to offer, for anyone’s good.

As for women? He hadn’t dared to sleep with one since he’d been mauled by a hell demon and his life, as he’d always known it, had ceased to exist. He had no idea how the beast, now an integral part of him, would deal with emotion. He wasn’t sure if this nightmare could be passed to others by way of something as insignificant as a scratch or a kiss.

There seemed to be no rule book for werewolves. No manual. Hell, it was possible there were no others like him, and he’d have to continue to play it by ear.

“Sorry,” Gavin whispered to the female below, though his insides quaked with a longing for what she could offer that bordered on visceral greed.

He craved warmth and closeness and the freedom to fill his lungs with the perfume surrounding this woman like an aura. He wanted to run his hands over every inch of her, and see where that led. Test himself. Push himself.

But he had a job to do and a vow to fulfill. He’d find the beast that had ruined his life, and take that beast down. “Not her,” he said to quiet his inner wolf. “Definitely can’t bother this woman.”

Want her, his wolfish side protested with a sharp stomach twist.

“Yes. Okay. I suppose I do,” Gavin admitted as he started down the hill toward the cabin as if pulled there by an invisible chain.

* * *

“Stop right there.”

Obliging, the man by the fence stopped at the gate.

Even if she hadn’t guessed that her nighttime visitor would return, Skylar’s first thought actually would have been ranger due to the light green pants and the shirt with a badge on the pocket.

She wasn’t sure how she noticed the clothing details though, given her initial surprise over how incredibly attractive the rest of him was and how well he fit her dream guy’s stats.

Tall and rangy, his outfit did little to hide masses of lean, well-honed muscle. Other dreamed attributes were there, too: the broad shoulders and narrow waist, the dark brown hair with its loose waves curtaining a chiseled face. From where she stood, it appeared that every body part seemed perfectly balanced and in accord with his beautifully united whole.

Just as she’d imagined.

This was downright uncanny, and maybe even a little scary. Still, while the hunky outdoorsman looked strong, he didn’t look primeval. His fingers didn’t end in razor-sharp claws, though she seemed to recognize him on whatever level of consciousness telegraphed heat.

Skylar felt her temperature begin to rise. Sensitive spots at the base of her spine tingled—a sign that though he hadn’t spoken yet, this guy truly was last night’s visitor, in the flesh.

“You’ve lost your gun,” he finally observed.

Velvet. Yes. His voice was like a velvet blanket, the vocalization of his appearance.

Skylar’s heart fluttered in her chest.

“Do I need it?” She regarded this guy almost rudely, unable to stop the flood of internal warnings about the impossibility of dreams coming to life.

But she couldn’t have made this guy up. He was standing in her yard in the last light of a long day, and was close enough for her to see his face.