Hunter's Moon (3 page)

He frowned at her refusal.

“I’m not a professional at this. The doc should take a look at it.” He saw the panic rise up in her eyes again and she backed away from him. He wanted to tell her

that if she was that scared of going to the doctor’s then she didn’t have to go. He wasn’t going to make her.

“It’ll heal,” she said and swallowed. “I heal fast.”

Not knowing what to say or how to tell her that he

hadn’t meant to frighten her, he tapped his hand against his thigh for a few seconds and then glanced down at the bottle of whisky.

“You want another drink?” he said. She smiled at him,

her lips curving gracefully into it.

“I could use something hot.”

He swallowed hard and nodded. Hurrying from the room,

he headed straight for the kitchen.

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Neoma looked around at the interior of the cabin. She’d never thought she’d see it. It was cosy. There wasn’t a great amount of furniture, but what was there looked

snug and homely. She wished her home were like this.

The cabin she lived in was half this size and was all on one floor. Her bedroom was practically the lounge, and her kitchen was nothing more than an old wood-burning

stove.

She walked a few steps, testing her leg. It was

beginning to feel better now which meant she had no

excuse for staying. He didn’t have to know that though.

She just wanted to spend a little more time with him.

She rarely saw people, and it was an even rarer

occurrence for her to actually speak to someone.

Besides, it was him, the one man she’d always wanted

to speak to but had never found the courage to.

Her gaze traversed the walls while her fingers pulled the fur blanket tighter around herself. She was surprised

that he hadn’t offered her any clothes. Maybe he was in too much shock to think about things like that. She was covered and that was probably enough for him.

She smiled while she thought about the way he’d been

looking at her. She’d never thought he’d look at her like that. He wouldn’t look at her like that if he knew her.

The real her.

She cast a glance at the window, feeling the storm

outside and the lure of the night. It was hard for her to keep from giving in to it. She could feel it in her veins—

the desire to hunt and kill. She wouldn’t be able to hold it at bay forever. The longer she stayed, the more

danger she was putting him in.

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Looking up at the wall above the fireplace, she frowned when she found herself staring into the glazed eyes of a wolf’s head.

She walked towards it, her hand raising up to touch it where it was mounted on a wooden plaque, guided by a

morbid curiosity to feel its fur. Her brows furrowed while she stared into its dead gaze.

Her hand quickly dropped to her side when Scott walked back in. She picked at the blanket, her eyes downcast

and her voice lost to her. Seeing the wolf had raised so many questions and fears inside of her that she didn’t know where to start or what to say.

He came to stand next to her and she managed a small

smile when he held a cup of tea out to her. Taking it from him, she sipped it a few times while struggling to stop herself from looking at the wolf’s head. Her gaze briefly moved there.

“It came with the cabin,” he said. “I’ve been meaning to take it down. I don’t kill wolves. I’m a deer hunter.”

She sighed and relief washed through her.

“So, what do you hunt?” He looked a little awkward and she wondered whether he’d asked her because he was

interested, or because he didn’t know what else to say to her.

“Deer, anything I can eat,” she said without thinking and froze. She risked a glance at him and saw he had one

brow raised, as though he was trying to make sense of

what she’d said. She hoped that he’d let it slide. He was probably going to spend all night wondering exactly what she lived on now. She told herself she should add in

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some other things, like vegetables and the things she

ate normally, but he spoke again and her chance slipped away.

“You alone up here?”

She nodded.

“Even in winter?” he said with a hint of disbelief in his voice and his eyes.

“Yes,” she answered and then realised that her blanket was slipping, revealing the swell of her breasts. His eyes seemed to linger there, causing heat to settle in her

stomach and making her whole body flush. She pulled

the blanket up again and the soft fur tickled her skin.

“Come on, you shouldn’t be standing.” He caught hold of her arm and went to lead her to the couch but she sat

down on the rug in front of the fire.

It was so nice and warm here. She felt so safe. It had been a long time since she’d felt that in company.

“Well okay then,” he said and sat down next to her on

the rug. “You warm enough? I can throw another couple

of logs on—”

“It’s fine, it’s…nice.” She didn’t look at him. She

remained staring at the flames and thinking about how

good it felt to be with someone.

It wasn’t just the fire making her warm.

She looked at him out of the corner of her eye. He was sitting so close to her, his eyes fixed on the fire and the soft light of it warming his face.

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“Thank you for looking after me,” she said and leaned

towards him. She pressed a kiss to his cheek and when

she pulled back, he had his eyes closed. Her heart sped a little when he opened them and looked straight into

hers. There was so much passion in them, desire that

she’d caused, and it made her tremble inside to see it.

“What are neighbours for?” he said in a shaky voice that betrayed his feelings as much as the way his eyes

dropped briefly to her body did.

“You’re different up close and in the light.” She waited for his eyes to come back up to meet hers and smiled

when they did, trying to alleviate the nerves she felt and forcing herself to continue with what she wanted to say.

“I know your shape and build, and your scent, but you’re so much more…”

“Yes?” Scott tried to swallow the dry lump in his throat but his actions were pointless. It wouldn’t shift, not while she was looking at him like that, with eyes that told him how much their owner longed for his touch. He couldn’t be imagining it now. The sweep of her tongue against

her lips, the shy way she looked at him through her

eyelashes and the way her blanket was falling

dangerously low around her breasts told him everything he needed to know. He would have had to be blind to

miss how attracted to him she was, how she wanted

him.

“…Handsome,” she breathed the word. It was a feather

light whisper but it hit him with all the force of a tidal wave, sending him reeling and making desire surge

through him. “I like your grey eyes. They remind me of a wolf.”

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He smiled and gave a short laugh, his nerves getting the better of him. “You have wolf eyes more than me.”

She drew back a little and a tiny frown wrinkled her

nose. He wondered if it had been what he’d said, but

then told himself that it couldn’t be. Why would his

mentioning that her eyes look like a wolf’s make her

react like that—as though she was afraid of what he’d

said?

He watched her sit back and cover her shoulders with

the blanket, stealing the pleasure of seeing her smooth skin away from him.

“Neoma?” he said. “Something wrong?”

She looked at him. “I’m…I felt a little dizzy. I’m all right now.”

He could see that she was lying. He wondered what the

problem had been really but when she spoke, his

thoughts were pushed from him by her words.

“So, what are you hiding from and who are you hiding

from, Scott?”

“What?” He blinked and then averted his gaze, a frown

knitting his brows while he thought about what she’d

asked. What did he tell her? If he told her the truth, would she think he was crazy too? Christ, his palms were sweating and his chest was tight. It felt as though

someone was trying to squeeze all of the air out of his lungs and he struggled to breath normally. This was too nice. If he opened his mouth and his heart to her, would she turn around and leave him too?

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Neoma held her breath, hoping that the reason he was

here would be the answer to her prayers. He had to

have a reason for being here. The people who came just for the hunting left at the end of each season, but he was always here. She’d watched him as he took

midnight strolls in winter. She’d even watched him at

Christmas once and had wondered if he’d felt as alone as she did during that time of year.

“Everyone who comes to these parts has something to

hide and are also hiding from something. So who are

you hiding from?” she said and leaned towards him

again, eager to hear his answer.

“The world,” he said in such a bitter but solemn tone

that her heart ached for him.

“Me too.” Her tone matched his and she stared at the

fire. It wasn’t the life she’d wanted for herself, but there was nothing she could do about it now. She had to live with what had happened, even if it meant living alone.

She wanted to ask him the reason why he was here, but

didn’t have the heart to cause him any more hurt with

her questions.

She sighed.

He followed suit.

Silence filled the room and she wished she could make it go away, but she was lost in her thoughts and the dark feeling of sadness growing inside of her. She told herself that she wasn’t lonely, but her heart said it was a lie.

She wouldn’t still be sitting here if that were the case.

She wouldn’t be waiting for Scott to say the words she knew he never would and resisting the call of the wild that tugged at the very core of her soul. He’d never

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understand the real her. He wouldn’t stick around long enough to even make a start. The moment he realised

what she was, he’d leave her and she’d be alone again.

There was no way on earth he would believe her if she

tried to explain what she was.

No one understood.

“Nine years ago I moved here,” he said, his deep voice breaking the silence and making her look at him. He was staring at the fire with a pensive expression firmly

settled on his face and his eyes narrowed. “I never told anyone why, but…no one ever asked before now.”

She felt the tension in the room elevate as though it was a physical thing affecting them both. It made her body tighten, her heart clench and her breath leave her. She waited, wanting to hear the reason why he’d come into

her world, wanting to know that the impression he’d

made on her wasn’t for nothing and that there was hope for them.

He ran his hand over his hair and sighed as though he

was trying to gather himself enough to speak.

After a moments pause, he did.

“I’ve always been the kind of guy that did everything

with a passion. My job was a passion and my hobby was

a passion, but when that hobby began to become an

obsession then the whole game changed. My colleagues

at work mocked me, my friends turned their backs and

even my wife—” He stopped abruptly and she could see

the pain in his eyes when he looked at her. A mirthless laugh left his lips and he forced a smile. “Well, you get the idea.”

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She nodded, awed and touched by the fact that he was

telling her this when he’d never told anyone before. She reached out and laid a hand on his arm, trying to show him that she was there and she understood the pain he

must have gone through. She had never really been in

love, but she had been in relationships that had ended bitterly and she knew the hurt he held inside.

He sighed and grabbed the bottle of whisky. In one swift movement, he’d uncorked it and was pouring himself a

large glassful. The neck of the bottle rattled against the rim of the glass, telling her how unsteady his hands

were.

“Why?” she said, prompting him but not rushing him.

“You’ll think I’m mad like the rest of them,” he said and looked at her.

“No, no I won’t.” She shook her head and stared deep

into his eyes, wanting him to see that she meant those words.

How could she ever think he was insane? Her whole life was more crazy than he could dream up. This night

would be all she would have to cherish for the next god knows how many years. She didn’t want it to be that

way, but if he realised what she was, he’d really think he was insane and she’d never see him again. She’d never

be able to explain to him that she could control herself, and that it was only once a month that the moon

affected her.

He looked unconvinced so she moved her hand down to

his and curled her fingers around under his palm.

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“Please believe me…this is as easy for me as it is for you…I’ve never had a night like this and I don’t know

when it’s going to end, but I know it’s going to be too soon, and I want you to know me before—”

Scott frowned at the way she’d cut herself off and the tears he could see shining in her eyes. Her words had hit him straight in his chest, tugging at his heartstrings and rendering him powerless to do anything but tell her the things about himself that he had been reluctant to say.