Lunar Mates 1: Under Cover of the Moon by Under the Cover of the Moon (Cobblestone) Page B
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any male could try to take it. But that wasn't going to happen. He wouldn't let it. He had eleven months left.
A mate will strengthen my position as Alpha.
He grimaced. Weres looked forward to finding their mates, to settling down to monogamy and having cubs. What was he doing? Worrying about securing his power. It beat the alternative—figuring out how to claim the woman he wanted. He knew trouble when he saw it, and she was it. With a capital T. Stubborn. Sexy. Independent. Smart as a whip. And did he mention stubborn?
She was Meg O'Reilly, owner and proprietor of O'Reilly's Bar and Grill . He dragged a deep breath of air into his lungs, trying to resurrect her scent—sweet and spicy, and meant for him alone. Her skin was pale and clear, and he knew it would be smooth beneath his fingers. She was perfect, small and curvy, with flowing chestnut brown hair. He couldn't wait to discover how she tasted. It was time for her to stop running.
He had walked into O'Reilly's for the first time four weeks ago. She was the first person he saw when he pulled open the heavy wood door and crossed the threshold. Standing behind the long bar on a sidewall, she was laughing and flirting with a customer while pouring a beer from the tap. Her hair was knotted on top of her head, tendrils hanging around her face, the elegant line of her neck exposed. A wall of unfamiliar emotions—jealousy, lust, possessiveness, and many he didn't dare try to name, hit him. It was unsettling, and she stiffened as if sensing his uneasy entrance.
Afraid she'd bolt, he approached her with the good-natured newcomer façade he'd put forth for a week. Her eyes were brown—the first thing he noticed on close inspection. What should have been warm chocolate gave him a frigid reception. With cool politeness, she returned his introduction and welcomed him to town.
He was more accustomed to women throwing themselves him, than making a point of ignoring him. She should feel the same emotions he did, raging lust at the very least. Then he noticed the frantic pulse beating in her neck, and got faint whiff of her fear. He was amazed she had such control over her responses and realized with a thrill she was not as unaffected by him as she wanted him to believe. Later he heard the rumors that she was a witch and wondered how much that had to do with it.
But she was skittish. It was okay. He had time. Or he had had time. He thought between charm and lust he would overcome her fears in a matter of days, but except for a few stilted conversations she'd avoided him since their first meeting. She'd put him off for a whole month, and the full moon was coming. With any other woman it wouldn't matter. No other woman brought out the proprietary nature of the wolf in him, the animal instinct to claim his mate. For the first time in his life he doubted his ability to control it. Her damned stubbornness put her in danger.
Tonight he would end it. Tonight he would stalk her as he would any other prey. And God help her if she put him off again. He was too tempted to spank her mouth-watering ass as it was. For the first time in days, he smiled. That was a plan with merit.
----
Chapter Two
Meg ran errands all day and tried not to obsess over Darius Stewart. The man was too sexy for words. Had she only met him month ago? For the amount of time she spent trying not to think of him that seemed impossible. For several days she'd fought a deep impulse to seek him out, and it scared her. She was a woman who enjoyed her independence and chose partners when the desire struck. She had never needed a man, but her libido had gone into overdrive since encountering this one.
She was a witch, like her mother and grandmother before her, and her instinct was flawless. It was a talent that had always served her well. She knew things, and felt the strong emotions of those around her. Sometimes she even caught a stray thought. If she gave in to this newfound desire, her life would be altered beyond
A mate will strengthen my position as Alpha.
He grimaced. Weres looked forward to finding their mates, to settling down to monogamy and having cubs. What was he doing? Worrying about securing his power. It beat the alternative—figuring out how to claim the woman he wanted. He knew trouble when he saw it, and she was it. With a capital T. Stubborn. Sexy. Independent. Smart as a whip. And did he mention stubborn?
She was Meg O'Reilly, owner and proprietor of O'Reilly's Bar and Grill . He dragged a deep breath of air into his lungs, trying to resurrect her scent—sweet and spicy, and meant for him alone. Her skin was pale and clear, and he knew it would be smooth beneath his fingers. She was perfect, small and curvy, with flowing chestnut brown hair. He couldn't wait to discover how she tasted. It was time for her to stop running.
He had walked into O'Reilly's for the first time four weeks ago. She was the first person he saw when he pulled open the heavy wood door and crossed the threshold. Standing behind the long bar on a sidewall, she was laughing and flirting with a customer while pouring a beer from the tap. Her hair was knotted on top of her head, tendrils hanging around her face, the elegant line of her neck exposed. A wall of unfamiliar emotions—jealousy, lust, possessiveness, and many he didn't dare try to name, hit him. It was unsettling, and she stiffened as if sensing his uneasy entrance.
Afraid she'd bolt, he approached her with the good-natured newcomer façade he'd put forth for a week. Her eyes were brown—the first thing he noticed on close inspection. What should have been warm chocolate gave him a frigid reception. With cool politeness, she returned his introduction and welcomed him to town.
He was more accustomed to women throwing themselves him, than making a point of ignoring him. She should feel the same emotions he did, raging lust at the very least. Then he noticed the frantic pulse beating in her neck, and got faint whiff of her fear. He was amazed she had such control over her responses and realized with a thrill she was not as unaffected by him as she wanted him to believe. Later he heard the rumors that she was a witch and wondered how much that had to do with it.
But she was skittish. It was okay. He had time. Or he had had time. He thought between charm and lust he would overcome her fears in a matter of days, but except for a few stilted conversations she'd avoided him since their first meeting. She'd put him off for a whole month, and the full moon was coming. With any other woman it wouldn't matter. No other woman brought out the proprietary nature of the wolf in him, the animal instinct to claim his mate. For the first time in his life he doubted his ability to control it. Her damned stubbornness put her in danger.
Tonight he would end it. Tonight he would stalk her as he would any other prey. And God help her if she put him off again. He was too tempted to spank her mouth-watering ass as it was. For the first time in days, he smiled. That was a plan with merit.
----
Chapter Two
Meg ran errands all day and tried not to obsess over Darius Stewart. The man was too sexy for words. Had she only met him month ago? For the amount of time she spent trying not to think of him that seemed impossible. For several days she'd fought a deep impulse to seek him out, and it scared her. She was a woman who enjoyed her independence and chose partners when the desire struck. She had never needed a man, but her libido had gone into overdrive since encountering this one.
She was a witch, like her mother and grandmother before her, and her instinct was flawless. It was a talent that had always served her well. She knew things, and felt the strong emotions of those around her. Sometimes she even caught a stray thought. If she gave in to this newfound desire, her life would be altered beyond
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