Moonshadow (Moonshadow #1)

She handed him a mug of tea and a plate of toast. “Good. I hit what I’m aiming at.”

“That’s the weapon you need against a lycanthrope.” He bit into a piece of toast with strong, white teeth. “But if the authorities caught you with it, you’d be deported. You might possibly face jail time, unless…”

As he paused, she leaned forward. “Unless what?”

“Unless you become a member of the Dark Court, perhaps in a consulting capacity, much like the work you did in LA. If you’re affiliated officially to our demesne, you would have weapons privileges.” His eyelids lowered, shielding his expression. “I’m not necessarily offering the position to you. I’m just saying that would be one way to solve the problem if you were caught with the gun in your possession.”

She frowned. “Okay. The pro is, it would give me some legal protection, if I ever end up needing it.”

“The con is, you would become publicly associated with the Dark Court, and you would absolutely become a target for Isabeau and her Hounds. Right now you exist with some anonymity and ambiguity. There’s nothing tying you to us. There’s just a few accidental meetings. Robin and I could disappear, and your story could be that you helped a stray dog and gave it to its owner—me—and you don’t know anything else about either of us. You don’t know where we went or where we live.”

She breathed deeply and nodded. “You’ll get me the gun and the silver bullets.”

“I promised I would, and I will. And you’ll show me how to make the colloidal silver and cast the rune.”

“I said I would,” she told him. “And I will. If the situation comes up, and I’m caught with the gun, I’ll say I’m a member of the Dark Court, and you’ll back me up?”

The stern, beautiful line of his mouth twisted as if he tasted something sour. “Yes. If it comes to that.”

“Well, it may not. It’s not like I’m going to be walking down the town’s high street waving the gun in the air. I’ll keep it tucked out of sight but on hand, just in case.” She smiled. “Okay, fair enough. I’ll feel better having it as backup.”

“Actually, I would feel better if you had it as backup too. If it comes down to your needing to use the gun, declaring yourself a member of the Dark Court is going to be the least of your worries.”

She made a face as she ate her toast. “You can sure be full of doom and gloom.”

“That I can.” He finished his tea. “About that colloidal silver.”

She sniffed. “Not so fast, buckaroo. I have my own agenda for the day. Remember the reason why I said I came to England in the first place? I want to test my theory for getting into the manor house.”

His dark brows came down again. Really, he was very talented at throwing a fierce frown when he was displeased. “And this is important, why?”

She didn’t fault him for feeling the pressure of his own concerns. She might fault him for a lot of other reasons but not for that.

She replied patiently, “Because if I do manage to get in, I’ll inherit five acres of this land and receive an annuity, and that means I can take my time getting back to work. I can train and condition at my own speed, build back the muscle tone and stamina I’ve lost from the surgeries, and I won’t have to take on any new jobs until I feel like I’m ready for them. That’s very important to me.”

His frown eased. “I see.”

She carried her tea and plate to the sink. “After I get dressed, I want to walk around the house and get a feel for things in the daylight. When I’m through with that, I’m going to send you shopping with a list of things we’ll need to make the colloidal silver.”

His brief expression of understanding vanished as he raised one imperious eyebrow. “Why should I be the one to go shopping?”

“Because I don’t know where to buy things,” she told him, exasperated. “I also want to get groceries.” Tilting her head to look at the monkey still perched on top of the refrigerator, she added, “A lot of groceries.”

“All right,” Nikolas said. He carried his things to the kitchen sink too. “I agree. It sounds like a sensible plan.”

He stood at her shoulder as he set the dish and mug in the sink. Turning, she angled her face and went to nose to nose with him as she said, “Not that I needed your approval—but good. I’m glad we’re on the same page.”

His eyes narrowed, and they dropped to her mouth as she shaped the words. Good Lord, when was he going to put on a shirt?

She mouthed at him silently, “Stop looking at my mouth.”

His eyes darkened as she saw his pupils dilate. He mouthed back, just as silently, “What if I don’t want to stop looking at your mouth?”

The air sucked out of her lungs. What was the one job she had? She couldn’t remember. All she could remember was repeating it to herself as she walked out of the bedroom. Licking her bottom lip, she whispered, “I’m still jet-lagged.”

“And I still have no damn excuse.” He snaked an arm around her waist and hauled her against his torso, angling his head to swoop down and cover her mouth with his.

His kiss was just as hot as she remembered. It was better than last night. Last night really had felt dreamlike, but this felt all too real.

This felt shocking and blatantly sexual, and part of her was overcome with glee that she was crushed all up against that broad, muscled chest of his, while the other part melted down into wordless gibberish.

He took her by the back of the neck and ate at her like he was a starving man, pushing her back against the counter so that his hardened body was flush against hers. Her arms lifted of their own accord and wound around his neck while she kissed him just as hungrily.

Heated images ran through her imagination. What she wanted to do to him. What she wanted him to do to her. She dug her nails into the back of his neck. He growled, thrusting the bulge of a long, hard erection against the bowl of her pelvis, and his heart thudded, heavy and powerful, against her breasts.

Nothing else existed, just the two of them together.

Male. Female.

An electronic sound blinged in the intense silence. It sounded like the kind of noise a phone would make, but it didn’t come from her phone. He paused and lifted his head. His lips were wet from her mouth, while the dark look in his eyes was so heated she knew the same images had run through his imagination too.

“You’re still insufferable,” she said. “Just saying.”

“And you’re the same mouthy broad you were last night,” he growled.

“I don’t even like you,” she snapped.

There went that eyebrow again. He had that imperious expression down to perfection. “What does liking have to do with any of this?”

She started to laugh under her breath. “Not a damn thing, apparently.”

Holding her gaze, he took hold of her hips, firmly enough so that she felt the pressure from each of his long fingers, and with slow deliberation, he pushed his hips against hers. It felt so good she let her head fall back as she watched him.