Diamond Moon (Black Hills Wolves Book 12) Read online

  Shit. He gave himself a mental ass kicking for scaring her. “I’m Ross. You’re safe here. Promise.”

  She righted herself and searched his face with those gorgeous green eyes.

  He waited, hands at his sides, and tried to look harmless. A tricky task given his size—six foot six to her, at most, five foot five. He ran a bulldozer over his growing lust for what his body insisted was his mate and gave her the smile he used to launch many willing, human women into his arms without fail.

  This one scowled.

  She scrunched her eyes shut and sucked in a shuddering breath. Pain streaked across her face, obliterating the smile from his. God he wanted to hug her. Fix her. Instead, he crossed his arms and waited.

  After several excruciating-for-him seconds, her eyes snapped open on her exhale. She extended a shaking hand. “Darci. Darci D-D-Diamond.”

  He engulfed it with his. “Nice to meet you, Darci.” Her surname sounded familiar, but the chill of her skin ratcheted up his concern, knocking away any question on that front. “Let’s get you warm and dry and take care of your cut.”

  She nodded, letting him peel off her jacket. A bright-pink rectangle fell from the pocket as he tossed the wet coat aside. A taser? He picked it up and offered it to her. She needed to understand she was safe with him. Probably the safest place in the world for her—every cell in his body screamed at him to protect, to heal, and to keep her. She’s mine.

  He poked at the possessiveness shooting through him. Keep it in your pants, asshole. You’re a stranger to her.

  She pointed a shaking finger at her jacket, and he returned the weapon to her pocket, pleased by her gesture of trust. Did she sense it, too? Their connection? He was dying to know, but first things first. And the first thing was not ogling her full breasts outlined in painful-to-his-cock relief by her tight green T-shirt. Seriously.

  “Can you stand?” He wanted to lift her into his arms, take her to the master bath, strip her body bare—

  “Maybe.”

  He stood and grasped her arms, helping her up. She immediately wobbled to the side, favoring one leg. “Fell…t-t-twisted ankle,” she offered as explanation. Pain scrunched her features.

  “Right.” He swept her into his arms despite her mewl of protest—working hard not to be alarmed at how faint she sounded—and strode up the stairs to the second floor. At first, she held herself rigid in his arms, but as he cleared the stairs and walked along the galley balcony to his master bedroom, she relaxed, resting her head against his chest. Didn’t her gesture just make him want to hold onto her and never let her go.

  He placed her on the closed toilet and wrapped her in a huge bath towel, wet clothes and all. Then he ran a hot bath for her in his sunken tub. Big enough for two and then some. He wanted to sink in there with her. But given the wary way she watched him work, with a stubborn set to her chin, her hands fisted around the towel, clutching it to her chest, she’d fight to do this on her own.

  The thought pleased him. She might resemble a fragile, sopping wet, little pixie, but she had an inner strength. Hell, anyone who’d brave the storm outside earned big props from him.

  Come to think of it, why had she come to him during such foul weather? Another question needing an answer after she was clean and dry and warm. Grasping her chin, he tilted her head to get a good look at the cut. Superficial. The bleeding had already slowed. No other bruising.

  “Tree b-branch,” she answered his unasked question. “When I t-t-tripped.”

  Her gaze shifted to the tub. Her look of longing made him wish she’d stare at him the same way—every damn day for the rest of their lives. Is this how you feel when you’ve found your mate? No wonder his mom and dad were cemented to each other, the most touchy-feely parents he’d ever seen out in the human world.

  “You drink coffee, Darci?”

  At her nod, he straightened. “I’ll fetch you some.”

  “Milk. And…cinnamon, please.”

  Her stutter had stopped as had some of her trembling. A good sign. “Coming right up. Can you handle getting yourself in the tub?”

  Her chin tilted up, her stare meeting his head on. “Yes.”

  As in, get out. Message received. He backed to the door. “I’ll put the coffee there.” He pointed at the wide edge of the tub. He winked. “Promise not to peek when I do.”

  Her face flamed a sweet shade of pink. He bit the inside of his cheek to suppress a satisfied chuckle.

  Outside, hail battered the bay window fronting the other side of the tub, and the wind howled and hammered his home. Wouldn’t he love to howl, too, let the world know his mate had landed in his lap.

  Of course, he still needed to discover if she felt the same.

  He could barely wait to get started.

  Chapter Three

  Darci had never been so happy to sink into a steaming tub, moaning in pleasure as the wet warmth chased away the bone-deep chill from her aching body. Wonderful, hot water. No more frigid sleet and whipping wind worthy of a banshee.

  Damn wind had smacked a tree branch into her face then made her stumble and twist her ankle in a pothole in the lane leading up to the bed and breakfast. The pain almost made her return to Gee’s bar. Then she’d remembered Gee himself. Scary, taciturn giant. No. The lure of a possible friendlier face and a warm bed in an inn helped her trudge up the poor excuse for a road/driveway, muscling through the pain, which wasn’t much when compared to say, her excruciating full moon shifts. She could handle one wimpy, sore ankle. The cold had bothered her more than anything.

  Hail assaulted the window next to the tub, the wind continuing to wail as it smacked against the house. She scowled. If this represented South Dakota’s summer weather, then she wouldn’t linger, just stay long enough for someone to help with her shifting problem. Make it stop so she could get home to Ashland where she could start her normal, human life, one with close friends and lacking in monthly fur and mortal peril. While it was true she hadn’t died yet, the last shift had brought her too close, frightening even unflappable Aunt Jessica. She supposed watching her EMT lover use a defibrillator to revive the niece she loved as a daughter would make anyone’s solid shell crack a bit.

  It had scared Darci, too. Now she had two days to find this Luparell character and hopefully gain a solution to her problem before the next full moon tore her apart. Literally.

  With that happy thought frolicking in her mind, Darci cleaned up with a bar of soap. It smelled heavenly—lemon and rosemary—and reminded her of auntie’s homemade citrus and herb soap. Then she used the fruity shampoo and conditioner she found next to it on the ledge. She approved—whoever ran this bed and breakfast had good taste.

  Maybe Ross was the owner. A shudder ran through her at the memory of those huge arms catching her against a rock hard body as she’d fallen through the doorway. No one so big and yet gentle had ever held her in such a manner. He’d smelled good, too—like coffee and earthy, musky man. She’d wanted to take deep breaths of his enticing scent, but the shakes had gripped her so hard she could only pant, sit, and drip all over his pretty hardwood floors. Then he’d pulled off her cap, and she got her first good look at her savior, and man, oh man, he looked as good as he smelled. Kind, milk-chocolate-colored eyes had gazed at her with concern from a face tanned to warm gold by time he clearly spent in the sun. Long layers of straight, shoulder-length, reddish-brown hair cut a path across his forehead reminding her of an anime character. A freaking gorgeous anime god, that is. And when he’d smiled? Wow.

  Like an idiot she’d merely stared, her tongue too tangled by awe to form coherent sentences. It was a miracle she’d managed to stutter her name.

  Then he’d touched her face, sending a riot of confusing messages rocketing around her body, settling in her core. She’d had to smack his fingers away from her face before she’d done something crazy, such as suck his thumb into her mouth and tease it with her tongue while she imagined other parts of his enormous anatomy in her mouth and…else
where.

  This was insane. She’d never in her life reacted so hard or so fast to a man, let alone to a complete stranger. A gorgeous, trustworthy stranger. Speaking of mister fine hunk of manly man, he’d mentioned coffee then never returned.

  Darci climbed out of the huge sunken tub—a fitting size for such a big guy—and wrapped her body and hair in fluffy burgundy towels, straining to hear sounds of life in the building over the roar of the storm. Zip from inside the house.

  Lightning flashed as a knock sounded on the bathroom door, both making her jump.

  “Jeez, stealthy much?” she blurted, heart pounding.

  An answering chuckle from the other side of the door. “Why thank you. I do my best.”

  Heat flared across Darci’s face, and she caught her tomato reflection in the half-fogged bathroom mirror. Lovely. “What am I? Sixteen again?”

  “I certainly hope not.”

  Darci smacked her face. Really need to stop thinking out loud. Hard to break a lifetime habit created from abundant alone time in Ashland. She padded to the door and opened it.

  Mister Sun God Sexy stood there in fresh dark jeans and a dry navy T-shirt stretched over his muscular torso. Of course, he’d taken time to change after carrying her wet and muddy butt upstairs to the bathroom. He held black clothing in one hand. In the other, a steaming mug of coffee.

  She reached for the mug, eagerness overriding her earlier embarrassment. “Thank God.”

  He winked. “Sorry, no deities were involved in the making of this coffee. Just average me.”

  “Uh-huh.” She barely resisted an eye roll.

  There was nothing average about him. Certainly not his size and definitely not his face. And there he went grinning at her, the laughter lines bracketing his eyes and mouth proof positive he smiled a lot. He’s a nice guy.

  His good humor brought an answering smile to her lips, one she tried to hide behind her mug. She brought the cup to her lips, savoring the dark-roast smell. The first sip, rich with milk and cinnamon, made her moan.

  “Glad you approve.” The laughter in his voice warmed her core, making her clench her thighs and shift on her feet. His smile faded and his gaze shot downward, lingering on her legs. “How’s the ankle?”

  “It’s okay. Super-mild sprain.”

  “You were lucky.”

  “Lucky I finally found your place.” She attempted to peer past him. He stepped aside, giving her room to join him in the spacious room. She surged forward with only a slight limp, the pain from her tender ankle tolerable.

  Whoa. Super-swanky bed and breakfast. This had to be their master suite. King-sized bed with plush burgundy bedding and gold accents, towering armoire, wood-burning stove with two puffy chairs near it, vaulted ceiling with shining beams, and dormer windows above a glass wall with sliding glass doors leading to the outside.

  Her smile faded. “Um, wow. This room is great but….” She bit her lower lip. “Do you have something smaller?”

  His brows collided.

  Great, she’d upset the owner. But she couldn’t stay here—this room probably cost more per night than she had in her entire bank account. “I just finished grad school, so I have a mountain of debt and not a lot of wiggle room for something this extravagant.”

  His lips turned downward. Oh no, not a frowny face. Her stomach somersaulted. Would he kick her out?

  She thought he’d felt something for her as more than a potential customer, but, given his looks and personality, he probably flirted with any female crossing his path. She was likely nothing special to him at all. Why did the thought spear her with sadness? The look on his face made her want to run from the building, storm be damned.

  Her mood plummeted. So much for Los Lobos hospitality. So much for finding help. Aunt Jessica had warned her this might be difficult. Well, fine then. She could deal. What was a little more water? She would suffer the wet cold and hightail it to Gee’s Bar or quite possibly to her car if she couldn’t find another place to stay the night.

  She straightened her shoulders, firmed her chin, and gave him good eye contact, working hard to look strong and determined though she wore nothing but a towel. “Never mind. I can see you don’t have anything in my modest price range. I’ll just go. How much for the coffee?” Big brownie points for her managing to quash the quiver in her voice.

  He opened his mouth, shut it, and stared at her as if she were some puzzle he couldn’t solve. Or maybe a lower-class citizen not worth his time. Not a nice guy after all. Damn snob.

  Temper flaring, she glared at him. “If you’ll give me ten minutes, I’ll just get my things, change, and be out of your hair. Forty should cover the coffee and the bath.” She hoped.

  She hobbled into the bathroom as fast as her sensitive ankle would allow and exchanged the cup of caffeinated goodness for a handful of wet clothing. She needed to do this fast before she did something extremely embarrassing, for example flip him the bird or, worse, cry. She had other clothes in her backpack downstairs, likely as wet as these since her old, school bag wasn’t quite waterproof, but they were likely less muddy. She just needed to ignore the hot, hunky snob, go downstairs, get her pack, change, and leave.

  She pulled off the towel covering her head and ran her fingers through her damp hair, wrangling it into some semblance of its usual pixie cut. Good enough. She collected her folded, muddy clothes from the floor and clutched them to her chest. Time to go.

  “Darci.”

  She met the sexy snob’s gaze in the bathroom mirror.

  “What?” Hostility heated her tone, and she didn’t bother to smother it or her frown. Two could play the cranky card.

  His expression softened. He raised a palm as if in peace. “There’s been a misunderstanding.”

  She pushed past him, working hard to ignore his wonderful scent and her sudden urge to ditch the towel and rub herself against him. Good grief, what was wrong with her? She headed for the double doors opening onto the balcony overlooking the downstairs, glad she only limped a little bit. “I know. I’m sorry. I’ll be as quick as I can. Sorry for the mess. I said I’d pay—”

  “Stop.”

  At his barked command edged with steel, her treacherous feet ground to a halt halfway to freedom. She didn’t even fight when he turned her to face him. The warmth of his big hands cupping her shoulders made a storm of butterflies somersault in her gut. How would those palms feel gliding down her body? She shivered with want, her toes curling into the soft wool throw rug under her feet.

  He searched her face. “Darci. Where do you think you are?”

  She blinked. “I, um…what?” Mister Hottie wanted to talk. Time to dial down the hormones.

  His fingertips drew lazy circles on her skin. “Why on earth would you think you need to pay me?”

  Okay, the sexy man is cray-cray. He needed to stop touching her if he wanted to continue this conversation. She stepped away, though every cell in her body screamed for her to lunge forward into his embrace. Without his touch, her brain jumped into action. She answered his silly question.

  “Because this is a B&B and people pay money to rent rooms.” Yeah, she didn’t sound patronizing. At all.

  He cocked his head, looking very much like a curious dog. Then he grinned. And laughed. “Sweet little Moonbeam, this isn’t a bed and breakfast. This is my home.”

  His home? She glanced around the room, noting the details her first pass had missed. Stack of books on the floor by the wood-burning stove. Pair of scuffed work boots and socks near a closed door, likely the closet. A few furry, well-chewed, fake mice strewn on the floor by the big bed. Glass of water on the nightstand. The black clothes he’d held earlier lay on his bed. “Not a bed and breakfast?”

  “Nope.” He took her wet clothes from her unresisting hands, strode to the bathroom, and returned with her cup of coffee.

  She shook her head. This made no sense. “But Gee said—”

  He placed the cup in her hands. “Gee sent you here?”


  She smiled at his look of astonishment. “Well, his exact words were, ‘Go home, little Wolf,’ but then he pointed up here when I mentioned looking for a hotel. So, here I am.”

  He rubbed his jaw. “Interesting.”

  “Pretty much sums up my day.”

  He laughed.

  She downed a big gulp of coffee. “Anyway, I’m uh, sorry for the intrusion. Can you tell me where I might find an actual hotel in this town?”

  He shook his head, sending jabs of disappointment into her gut. But then he shot her a sizzling, breath-stealing stare. “Stay here.”

  Chapter Four

  Ross loved how Darci’s big green eyes widened at his suggestion. Come on, Moonbeam. Trust me. Stay with me. He took a slow inhale, willing his tightly coiled body to relax. Keep it chill. He was asking her to take a huge leap of faith, to stay in a strange man’s house. Of course she’d feel skittish.

  “Um.” She bit her lower lip, visibly squirming under his scrutiny. Then her stomach growled, and she pressed one pale, delicate hand against her belly.

  He stared at her face. Only her face. Mustn’t give her the once-over, no matter how hot she looked in his big burgundy towel.

  Towel. Aw, hell. Almost naked in a stranger’s house. A stranger who’d asked her to spend the night. Idiot. “Hang on.”

  Ross strode to the bed and collected the clothes. “Here. You’re shorter than my sister, but these should fit you all right. Until we can get you something better.”

  He’d made the right move. The tension eased from her body, and his little Wolf mate accepted his sister’s black T-shirt and yoga pants. “Thanks.”

  He grinned. “My pleasure. I’ll make dinner while you change. We can talk about my offer over food.” He didn’t wait for her reply. She needed a breather, and he wanted her to have it so she would relax. And stay.

  He headed downstairs. Cinder attacked his ankle the second he hit the kitchen. He scooped up his whiny feline and plopped him on the center island. “All right, boy, you first.” As he poured food into a dish for his needy pet, his cell rang. He fished it from his pocket. “Luparell.”