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Moonlit Watcher (Moonlit Novella #2) Page 3
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You might as well give in and give her the moon vow.
Derek tensed, cursing the errant thought. So what if he ached for the woman, heart, body, and soul? He'd worked too hard building the walls that protected him from pain and sorrow. Juliana would soften him, as evidenced by the way he'd carried her to bed, kissed her softly. It had hit him then that he cared about the human. The thought of causing her pain actually caused him pain, and they hadn't even exchanged the vow. What would he be reduced to if they did?
“Derek?”
She stood in the doorway of her bedroom, her lean body wrapped in a silk robe that did nothing to hide her curves. Swallowing hard, he reminded himself that exchanging a moon vow with her couldn't happen. “What?”
She jerked slightly at the harsh tone of his response, and guilt gnawed at his conscience. “You're angry with me.”
Unable to think of a reply to that observation, Derek turned away and picked up his shirt. Concentrating on pulling it over his head, he tried to ignore the scent of her. She smelled of soft, flowery perfume and sex. She smelled of him. The knowledge of why she now bore his scent had him hardening, ready for round two. Dammit.
“I deserve to know why you're mad.”
“On what grounds?” Derek turned toward her, his arms folded in front of him, his eyes—he was sure—red. A moon vow hadn't even been exchanged and the woman was already acting like a nagging wife. It was time he set her straight on one thing: Derek Kingston was not a wolf who would be tamed. “I brought hunters to your door, so it is my duty to protect you. That is all I owe to you, lady. A quick fuck doesn't grant you access to my psyche, and it damn sure doesn't make you anything more than just a piece of ass.”
Juliana's mouth dropped open in shock. Her eyes instantly watered, but she didn't shed a tear. Closing her mouth, she pinned him with a lethal glare and turned on her heel, stomping back into the bedroom.
Derek wrestled with his conscience while he heard her slamming drawers. Part of him wanted to walk in there, take her in his arms, and apologize before kissing her senseless, but the part of him he'd conditioned for protection warned him away. The closer he got to her, the more likely he was to give her a moon vow. Once he did that, she'd have control over him and he simply could not allow that.
She stomped out of the bedroom and into the small bathroom with a small bundle of clothes in her hand, and slammed the door behind her. A moment later, the sound of the shower taunted Derek with images of her naked under the spray.
You could be in there with her if you hadn't purposely hurt her feelings.
He told his inner voice to go fuck itself and glanced around, looking for something to do to take his mind off the tempting images crowding his head. There wasn't a television in the room, and he didn't want to chance the stereo. His luck, the first song would be Freak Me.
He walked over to the bookshelf in the corner of the room and perused the books shelved there. There were books on ballet—no surprise there—as well as other dancing styles filling one whole shelf. The shelf above it held a variety of nonfiction hardcovers. Native American folklore, urban myths, shamanism, cryptozoology, and psychic studies made up the bulk of the selections. The third shelf held a few books about wolves, and a book of dream interpretation. The other books lining the shelves had something or another to do with cultures around the world. Derek frowned, pulling out one of the cryptozoology books. He noticed the chapter on werewolves was dog-eared.
Arrogant son of a bitch. In his case, the slam was probably literal. Juliana scrubbed her body with a pink loofah, working the grainy magnolia and honey scented exfoliating wash into her skin. She hoped it washed off every last trace of evidence she'd allowed the jerk inside her body.
What was I thinking?
Groaning at her stupidity, Juliana hung the loofah from the shower hook and grabbed the sweet smelling shampoo. She already knew the answer to the question. She hadn't been thinking. She'd been feeling, feeling way too much for a stranger. A stranger with four legs and a tail. Goodness.
As she washed and conditioned her long hair, she recalled the snatches of dreams she'd had since her last birthday. A big, black wolf, so lonely and shy despite its formidable appearance. She'd been drawn to the beast and even while awake thought of its too-human eyes, so full of longing. She'd been a little stunned the first time she'd seen what looked like the same wolf watching her through her glass door, but then a sense of contentment had come over her. It was as if the pull she'd felt to leave the stage and hide away in the little house outside the North Carolina woods had led her to the wolf for a purpose, and the dreams she'd had of the wolf—and the gorgeous man—were some sort of sign. If not for those dreams, she probably would have fainted the moment she saw Derek shift.
“Maybe that would have been a better reaction,” she muttered as she stepped out of the shower and dried off. If she'd been afraid of him, she would have never had sex with him, shared a beautiful act that he'd thrown right back in her face. She shuddered as she recalled how paltry he'd made what they'd done seem. It had felt like a slap in the face, especially after how sweet he'd been…
Juliana stared at her reflection in the bathroom mirror. The corner of her mouth turned up into a grin. Derek wasn't as unaffected as he wanted her to believe. He did care for her, so much he was afraid. The sly wolf had purposely offended her to push her away. Why?
She thought back to the dreams, the sadness in his eyes. The longing she'd felt from him as he lay outside her door. Derek wasn't the untouchable wolf he pretended to be. Someone had hurt him once before, and he was terrified of someone hurting him again. Her grin transitioning to a full smile, Juliana straightened her shoulders and grabbed the doorknob. She'd always enjoyed a challenge, and Derek was a prize worth fighting for.
Head held high, she stepped out into the hallway and sauntered into the living area, stopping when she spotted Derek relaxing in the lounge chair next to her bookshelf, one of her cryptozoology books in his hands. His attention was so riveted to the book, he didn't seem to notice her.
“Good book?”
He glanced up and froze. His lips parted as his eyes slowly roamed over her naked body, the heat emanating from the reddish orbs leaving a trail of warmth over her skin. His Adam's apple bobbed on a hard swallow, but still he didn't speak.
Juliana struggled not to laugh—or pump her fist in the air in victory—as she moved forward and retrieved the book, aware her breasts dangled before him as she picked it up. He'd had it opened to the section on werewolves. “Studying up on your history?”
He blinked and the dazed look of lust in his eyes simmered before twisting into something accusatory. “Were you studying up on my history?”
Uneasy under his glare, Juliana returned the book to the shelf and shrugged. “Until tonight I really wasn't sure if werewolves were real, or just…” She allowed herself to trail off, unsure how to explain the thoughts she'd had in the past year.
“You've dreamed of me, haven't you?”
Now it was her turn to stare open-mouthed.
“Dammit.” Derek leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, his gaze focused on the floorboards. “Get dressed.”
Juliana blinked, coming out of her surprise just in time to realize what was happening. “Look at me, Derek.”
“Juliana, get dressed now.”
Her name coming from his mouth weakened her knees. The fear that she would never hear her name on his lips after this night seized her heart. “Look. At. Me.”
“Dammit, Juliana, go get dr—”
She gripped his shoulders and pushed him back in the chair, promptly straddling his lap. His eyes widened in shock and his mouth opened, no doubt to order her off, as his hands gripped her waist, ready to push her away.
Juliana swooped in before he could get a word out, sealing his mouth with her own, pressing her tongue deep inside to muffle his refusal. She pressed harder against him as his hands pushed at her waist. A heartbeat later, his hands qui
t pushing. He pulled her closer, groaning as her core rubbed over his hard length. Juliana smiled against his soft lips, reveling in the taste of victory. “Take me to bed, Derek.”
Without objection, he stood with her legs wrapped around his waist and carried her into the bedroom. Juliana gasped as she was dropped onto the bed, but before she could say a word, Derek unzipped his pants and climbed on top of her. “Damn you,” he growled before thrusting into her.
Wet and ready, Juliana felt no pain as he pounded in and out of her, but found it difficult to breathe as his speed increased, growing more rough. The bed rocked, the mattress creaking under the assault, and Juliana dug her nails into Derek's shoulders, wrapping her legs around his to keep from being pushed right out of the bed. Derek rose to his knees and grabbed her legs, raising her pelvis off the bed as he rammed into her harder. Wave after wave of pleasure washed over her until a scream of pleasure tore from her throat. Derek growled, falling over her in a heap.
Juliana concentrated on her breathing, bringing it back under control as she stroked Derek's back underneath his T-shirt. His breathing was as labored as hers. “That was—”
“A mistake.” Derek rolled off her and sat up.
Juliana sat up next to him, her heart in her throat. Anger simmered inside, but she fought to keep it out of her tone. She knew he wanted her, could feel it with every fiber of her being. “How can you say that? You know about my dreams, which means you have them too, doesn't it?”
He looked away.
“Derek, you want me. You know you want me, and I want you. So what if it's crazy? You're a werewolf. I know. I understand. I accept it.” She stroked his back, bit her lip when she felt him tense under her hand. “This is supposed to be. I dreamed of you, quit my run in a Broadway performance to travel here, following this signal you seemed to be emitting. It's like we were meant to m—”
“We were! We're soul mates,” Derek snapped, pushing her hand away to stand up. He yanked up his pants and tugged the zipper up. “This is the week of the full moon and at some point the moon is going to draw a vow out of us, and we'll be mated for life.”
Juliana blinked, not understanding what vow he was speaking of, or why he seemed so upset about it. “Are you talking about a marriage vow?”
“Something like that.” He closed his eyes and shook his head as he ran a hand over his short hair.
“Why are you mad, then, if we're soul mates?”
“Because I don't want it,” he snapped, his eyes glowing red as they fixed on her. “I don't want you.”
Chapter Five
“Derek!” Juliana tightened the sash on her robe as she stomped into the living room to find the werewolf staring past the sliding door, studying the night sky beyond. “Turn around.”
“I'm not arguing with you, woman.” He turned his head to leer at her, but didn't turn his body around. “Nor am I falling for another of your ploys.”
Juliana fisted her hands on her hips and felt the frown lines forming between her brows. “What ploys?”
“You're not going to rile me up to get me in the bed again.”
Juliana's jaw dropped. Never in her life had she made an unwanted advance on a man, and despite whatever Derek said, he did want her. “That's absurd. I suppose next you'll say I raped you?”
Narrowing his eyes, Derek turned fully and moved a few steps so he could lean against the wall, his thumbs hooked into his front pockets. “Look, despite whatever dreams we've had of each other, whatever is happening between us, I have no intention of giving you a moon vow. I'll fight the moon with every ounce of strength I have.”
Juliana didn't bother asking what exactly a moon vow was, or how one could fight something that sounded so mystical. Instead, she went to the heart of the matter. “Why do you say you don't want me when your every action proves differently?”
Derek growled, tightening his hands into fists as he walked over to the chair and sank into it. “Just let it drop, woman.”
“No.” Straightening her shoulders, she raised her chin defiantly. “You brought hunters to my house, put me in danger, and have insulted me repeatedly. You at least owe me a reason as to why.”
His eyes blazed fire, his mouth parted—to verbally rip her to shreds, no doubt—but just as quickly closed. “I guess I do.”
“Huh?” Juliana blinked. “Did you just concede?”
Derek's lips twitched at the corners as he shook his head. “It's hard to believe I thought you a fragile, delicate little mouse.”
Juliana smiled, sure she'd received a compliment. “Don't change the subject now. You owe me an explanation.”
With a heavy exhale, he leaned back against the chair, resting his head along the back of it. “If we get too close emotionally, the moon will pull a vow out of us. It's a kind of magical binding that will mate us together for life.”
“I gathered that.” Juliana sat on the floor, folding her legs Indian style. She made sure the robe covered her adequately. If Derek was in the mood to actually answer her questions, she wanted to keep him focused on doing just that. “What I don't understand is why you don't want it. If we are truly soul mates, as you say, shouldn't we want to be with each other?”
Derek looked at her pointedly. “If we exchange the vow, you'll become a werewolf too.”
Juliana frowned as she studied Derek's expression. His lips were compressed into a stern line, his eyes deadly serious. From the look on his face, being a werewolf was a bad thing. Yet he'd seemed at ease with being one before. She supposed he could think the idea of becoming what he was could be a horrifying thought for her, and she was sure most humans would have freaked out at the thought. Strangely, she didn't.
She glanced at the bookshelf which held several books about wolves, cryptids, and numerous cultures. Other than dancing, which itself was a cultural thing, she'd always been interested in what she viewed as other worlds. And she loved wolves. Always had. Returning her gaze to Derek, she realized why. Her whole life had been spent preparing for this man. Her soul mate. “And?”
His eyes widened, then he blinked twice. “And? Did you hear what I said?'
“Yes.” She nodded. “I suppose it makes sense if I'm supposed to be your soul mate, I should be what you are.”
“Juliana…” He scrubbed a large hand down his face and looked up at the ceiling as if asking heaven for answers. “You're a ballerina, not a fighter.”
“So, because I'm a dancer, I can't be a werewolf?”
He looked at her, his gaze roving over her face, searching for clues as he shook his head. “You said you left a Broadway production. Broadway, Juliana. Do you really want to leave that world to come run around in the woods with my pack?”
Juliana laughed, enjoying the look of complete confusion the action made on Derek's face. “I couldn't help but notice your clothes are designer, your shoes Italian leather. You don't get money for such things by roaming around in the forest all day and night. And you're not always a wolf.”
Derek glanced down at his pants. “Your point?”
“You have a job, a life outside your wolf form.” She tilted her head and studied him. “What is your profession, Derek? I hardly see you sitting behind a desk.”
“I'm a contractor,” he muttered, “here in North Carolina. I'm not on a stage in New York performing in front of hundreds of people every night, people who could inadvertently discover what I truly am.”
“You're concerned for my safety living as a werewolf in New York?” Juliana grinned. “Have you ever been to New York? There are taxi drivers there far weirder than werewolves. I'd blend in just fine.”
Derek's mouth twitched, but he quickly regained his composure. “I'm serious.”
“Yeah, too serious.” Juliana sighed. “If you recall, I told you I left Broadway. Left as in 'Goodbye stage'.”
“Why?” Derek's frown matched the concern in his eyes. “You love to dance.”
“That's right. I love to dance.” Juliana sighed. “I hate to p
erform, though. I hate to have my passion twisted into something commercial and…” She shrugged. “It's hard to explain. I just know that dancing here in this little house far away from my family and the stage is so much more fulfilling than anything I've experienced in the spotlight these past few years.”
“Your family pushes you to do productions you don't want to be part of?”
“They always have.” She laughed, the sound small and devoid of joy. “You aren’t the only person who looks at me and only sees a ballerina. I love to dance, but it doesn't define me. I could walk away from the stage forever and not shed a tear.” She met his gaze. “I just want to be free.”
“Like a wolf.”
“Why not?”
Derek pinched the bridge of his nose and shook his head. “No. No, Juliana, no. There are other ways to be free. Just stay off the stage, don't go back to New York. You don't have to become a wolf.”
“You seem to enjoy being one.”
“I love my wolf spirit,” he said, shifting his gaze back to her. “But I've always been a fighter. It's instinctive in me, and I'm damn good. What happened tonight…I've never been shot before. Had I not been so focused on you, it would have never happened.”
Anger surged through Juliana's chest. “You're blaming me for you getting shot? That's what this is all about?”
“No!” Derek growled, bunching his fists up. “You don't understand.”
“Then explain it to me.”
“If I exchange the moon vow with you, you'll be bound to me forever. And if I lose you…” He ground his teeth together hard enough for the indent to show in his cheek. “I can't go through that kind of pain again.”