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Book online «Hunter's Moon, Loribelle Hunt [story reading TXT] 📗». Author Loribelle Hunt



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you saw her that happy?”

A few months ago when you finally claimed her, but he kept the thought to himself. Clint was still learning how to live as part of a unit after years of trying to cut himself off from everyone who cared about him.

“Come on!” Ellen called impatiently from downstairs and he had to laugh as he buckled the sandals on and followed them out.

Chapter Three

Gia gripped the stem of the wineglass so hard she couldn’t believe it didn’t snap. Where the hell was Anthony? And why the hell was she expecting him to come rescue her from this social disaster? She’d never felt so exposed.

It was her own damned fault for picking out this costume. She should have come as a nun, but no. She had to lose her damned mind and decide to turn that damned wolf’s taunting back at him. Let him drool over her for once. It better fucking work. Nothing else would make this nightmare worth it. Hell, if the black vinyl corset and short as hell skirt didn’t do the trick, nothing would.

Speaking of male attention, Carlos, the werelion, said something but her mind was a million miles away and she didn’t catch it. She murmured assent and smiled, which seemed to please him so she assumed it was the right response and went back to cussing out Anthony in her mind.

She’d tried this afternoon—again—to talk Julian into assigning her to work with someone else. And again, he’d refused. He kept insisting she had to learn to work with people she didn’t like. He totally didn’t get it.

She liked Anthony all right. Way too much. And he seemed to live to torment her. She wondered what would happen if she took him up on one of his many insinuated offers. Hell, she knew the answer to that one. Several weeks ago, after a very bad day, she’d finally responded to one of those offers. Sure, Anthony. Take me to bed. And what had he done? Laugh it off as a joke. Okay, yeah, she’d been pretty flip when she said it, but it didn’t mean she wasn’t serious damn it.

He’d actually backed off for a few days, and she’d finally realized it was just a working relationship. He wasn’t serious about getting into her pants. She was so damned horny she was probably even reading innuendo where none was intended. God, what a depressing thought. Had she been celibate so long she’d forgotten what male interest really looked like?

She glanced around the room and caught Declan, one of the werewolf Hunters, checking her out. Okay. Maybe not. She must have frowned because Declan arched a questioning eyebrow and Carlos asked if she was okay. She forced a smile for both of them and drank the last of her wine.

“I’m fine,” she said, standing up. The vinyl of the tight black corset squeaked with her movement, and she tugged on the matching short skirt. Carlos smiled appreciatively as he looked her up and down once more.

“Sure I can’t get you to run away with me, honey?”

This time her grin was real. Her instinct had been to mistrust him. But he was open and friendly and much too charmingly persistent. “Sorry. But no.”

“Ah, well. I’ll just pine away alone, I suppose.” He looked up when the door opened. “And now I suppose your wolf will be stealing you away.”

“He’s not my wolf,” she snapped. Damn him.

Carlos stood and lifted her hand, turning it over to press a kiss on to her palm. “Oh, I’m afraid you’re mistaken about that, darlin’. Here he comes.”

With a two-fingered salute, he turned and strode across the room to where the bar was set up. She turned to see if Anthony had, in fact, showed up. Now that Carlos had decided to leave her in peace, of course he would arrive. When she saw him moving through the crowd, she caught her breath.

Good God. Was he supposed to be Leonidas? He certainly looked like a Greek warrior king. She’d seen him naked several times when they were working and he was between shifts. It was always a struggle to control her reaction then. Leave it up to him so show up at a party half, well mostly, naked. It was like he was tormenting her on purpose.

Oh, but he was nice to look at. Not an ounce of fat. Thick, defined muscles. She had dreams about those arms, picking her up, bracing her back against a wall as her legs came up to wrap around his waist. They always ended before she got to feel him inside her. Always ended before she got any satisfaction.

He was talking to one of his Hunters, his body angled slightly away from her, and she sighed when he turned enough to give her a better look at his profile. Like he sensed her there watching him, he turned his head right to her, caught and held her gaze a moment before going back to his conversation. Like she was just another stranger in a roomful of strangers.

It was like a punch to the stomach. Her heart started to pound, and she looked around for Julian. She had to get out of there before it got worse. God, she hadn’t had a panic attack in years. They couldn’t start again now. She took a deep breath, counted slowly till her heart slowed, and finally located Julian behind the bar. She made her way through the crowd, thankful the lingerers scattered when she arrived.

She almost sent them a mean smile. None of them would ever believe she was less than the tough as nails hard ass she portrayed. She’d learned all her hard life lessons at sixteen when a rogue destroyed her world, and accordingly, had wrapped her heart in ice. But she’d paid a steep price for protecting herself. Julian was the only person in the world she was close to, and he made lousy girlfriend material. She scowled. Not that she was

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