Jasmine Moon

by Celia Breslin

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  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Jasmine Moon

  Copyright 2016 by Celia Breslin

  ISBN: 978-1-68361-045-8

  Cover art by Fiona Jayde

  All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work, in whole or in part, in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means now known or hereafter invented, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher.

  Published by Decadent Publishing Company, LLC

  Look for us online at:

  www.decadentpublishing.com

  Jasmine Moon

  Black Hills Wolves

  By

  Celia Breslin

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Epilogue

  Under a Mating Moon by Celia Breslin

  Black Hills Wolves Stories

  Wolf’s Return

  What a Wolf Wants

  Black Hills Desperado

  Wolf’s Song

  Claiming His Mate

  When Hell Freezes

  Portrait of a Lone Wolf

  Alpha in Disguise

  A Wolf’s Promise

  Reluctant Mate

  Diamond Moon

  Wolf on a Leash

  Tempting the Wolf

  Naming His Mate

  A Wolf Awakens

  The Wolf and the Butterfly

  Infiltrating Her Pack

  Omega’s Heart

  Rebel’s Claw

  Claiming the She-Wolf

  Worth Fighting For

  Dangerous

  Uncaged

  Promiscuous Wolf

  Disquieted Souls

  A Cougar Among Wolves

  Long Road Home

  A Mate’s Healing Touch

  Another Chance

  Broken Silence

  A Wolf’s Contract

  A Mate’s Redeeming Touch

  A Cougar Among Wolves

  Pleasure Me

  Craving His Love

  Jasmine Moon

  Winter Solstice Run

  Wolf’s Holiday

  Winter Magic

  Winter Secrets

  Winter Solstice Ménage

  Wolf in Winter Clothing

  Murder in Los Lobos

  Scent of Murder

  Scent of the Hunt

  Scent of His Woman

  Scent of Madness

  Coming Soon

  Secrets of the Hunt

  Salvaged Souls

  His to Protect

  Also by Celia Breslin

  Diamond Moon

  Under a Mating Moon

  A Note From the Author

  Hello Dear Readers,

  Welcome to the world of the Black Hills Wolves! I’ve written three stories for the series so far, each featuring one of the Luparell siblings: Ross (#12), Lexi (#27), and now Evan. Evan is the oldest of the trio and a total workaholic. I had such fun introducing him to fellow workaholic Mina, amidst the backdrop of his brother’s wedding. Surrounded by love vibes, will they go for the proverbial wedding fling or make a lasting connection of their own? I hope you enjoy their journey!

  Happy reading!

  xo,

  Celia

  http://www.celiabreslin.com/

  Jasmine Moon

  Tech mogul and workaholic wolf Evan Luparell has little time for distractions but takes a break for his brother’s wedding in South Dakota. When asked to escort another wedding attendee from the airport to Los Lobos, he agrees. Then he meets the curvy spitfire, and she ignores him.

  Designer and wolf Mina Carver didn’t mean to be rude to the handsome, glowering man claiming to be her ride, but she was busy working. Now she must endure a ride to the Black Hills with the cranky but sexy dominant wolf. Unexpected mating energy sparks between them, but still—should she dismiss, or kiss him?

  Kisses win and they agree upon a no-strings fling. But with each wedding activity throwing them together, and their powerful chemistry and mate compatibility complicating matters, can two workaholics truly have their fun then walk away?

  Dedication

  To my family – love you! Cheers to beta readers Amber Belldene and Carmen Fox. And thanks to my editor Heather Long and the fab Decadent Pub team for welcoming my wolves to The Black Hills.

  Chapter One

  Evan paced the length of Rapid City Airport for what had to be the fifth or sixth time. Not that he counted, too busy answering texts from both his too-talkative, blissed-out, getting-married brother, and rapid-fire pings from his assistant—the latter of whom was wrestling with a tricky contract in his absence. Damn it. He should be there running the show, but no, Ross had to get married in one of the busiest months of their tech company’s sales year.

  Merry freaking Christmas.

  His fingers and most of his brain kept up a fast response with both his assistant and Ross while he stalked over endless linoleum and dingy carpet, glancing left and right for what his brother described as a, “twenty-something, pint-sized but curvy redhead.” Jasmine Something-or-Other, the clothes designer and bringer of the wedding dress.

  Abundant travelers hurried through the crowded airport bundled up for the winter weather, probably here for the snow sports in the Black Hills. Tall women, short women, brunettes, blondes, a few older women with red hair, none of them the woman he had to find.

  Damn it all, it shouldn’t be difficult to locate one woman in an airport the size of a postage stamp. He paused yet again in the rental car wing where Jasmine Whatever-Her-Name-Is should have met him. After staring down the long line of customers, he admitted defeat and focused on the missives from his harried employee. A new client from Tokyo was giving Liz a major headache. The videoconference—happening without him while he wasted time in an airport in South Dakota—had started to unravel.

  “Screw this.” He couldn’t find one tiny redhead, but he could save the deal. He dialed Liz’s number. “Put me on speaker.” Forget about the girl. He dove into work mode.

  The pressure in his chest eased after he ended the call, the deal closed. He took in the empty airport. How long had he lost himself in work? He did a slow three-sixty then stared over at baggage claim. Long enough for the masses to claim their bags and disappear into the winter wonderland outside, apparently. Surely now he’d locate Jasmine Whoever. A quick chat with Carmen the Car Rental Gal—who had kindly stored his two bags behind her counter while he went on his Jasmine Whoever search—assured him his target hadn’t rented a car and departed without him.

  He glared at the empty baggage claim area. The no-show designer could find her own blasted way to Los Lobos.

  He shot a text to his brother:

  Sorry, man. Your designer is AWOL. I’m out of here. I’m sure Mom and Dad are freaking at my tardiness already, right?

  Ross didn
’t reply right away, and Evan tipped his head and eyed the ceiling. Prompt replies, punctual people. Striking deals and hitting deadlines. These items made his world tick. Not loitering around a miniscule airport pulling a Waiting for Godot moment on infinite repeat for a no-show, flakey designer from California.

  God grant him patience and balls of steel when he showed up without the designer and the all-important wedding dress, because his future sister-in-law Darci would certainly be unhappy. He’d have to beg a favor from his assistant, have her snag a couture dress, and fly it ASAP to the Rapid City airport. He could afford a gown from some famous designer in Chicago or New York, something likely superior to whatever his soon-to-be sister-in-law’s no-name friend had created. Right? Shit, he hoped women’s fashion proved so easy.

  He took a deep fortifying breath and froze. Airport smells assailed his senses—the sharp tang of bleach and lemon-scented cleaners, the floral perfume from Rental Car Girl who eyed him like a piece of candy. Black coffee, donuts, fried fast food, and under it all, the distinct musk of wolf.

  Female wolf.

  She smelled damn good. His wolf perked up, and his legs propelled him toward the empty baggage claim, where one bright-pink suitcase covered in Hello Kitty stickers sat, unclaimed, on the unmoving L-shaped conveyor belt. Her scent, stronger here, socked his gut, and his gaze shot to the corner.

  The chaos around the woman stunned him silent. Large, paper coffee cup, half-eaten banana, and a quarter of a powdered doughnut perched on a brown paper bag next to her. Crumbs splattered the linoleum and the woman’s long-sleeved blue blouse in a thick layer of white, sugary dust. On her other side, two pink garment bags lay like corpses, along with a bubblegum-pink unzipped duffel as long as her outstretched, denim-clad legs. Some of the bag’s contents—pads of drawing paper and large swaths of fabric—protruded over the opening, the fabric splaying over her legs in a rainbow-colored blanket. Her feet peeked out of the mess, encased in sparkling pink UGGs. Good grief, sequins? She smacked her shiny boots together in a poor imitation of Dorothy and bobbed her head from side to side in time to some music only she seemed to hear. Her shoulder-length red hair, the color of ripe dark cherries—his favorite fruit—gleamed under the harsh airport lighting and curtained most her face from his view, save a pert nose and small chin, both speckled with a generous amount of freckles.

  He’d always liked freckles.

  Clearing his throat, he stepped closer, but she didn’t flinch in surprise or look up. Her attention remained on the tablet on her lap, the stylus between her pale, freckled fingers swiping without hesitation over her screen. Her extreme focus reminded him of his sister Lexi in one of her artistic frenzies. The resemblance ended there.

  While his sister took after the rest of their tall, lean, and tan family, this woman seemed the polar opposite—pale, petite, curvy, and freckled. His preferred type. A flicker of interest stirred in his gut. Did she have those cute little spots on the rest of her? Speckled fur when in her wolf form? His wolf huffed his interest in finding out, but Jasmine the Oblivious Designer didn’t acknowledge his presence.

  His fascination faded, replaced by renewed irritation. She damn well should have scented and noticed his wolf by now, and she should have waited at their agreed upon rendezvous point. She should not be sitting on the dirty linoleum of an airport, lost in her work. Didn’t she realize the dangers of ignoring her surroundings?

  He positioned himself right in front of her wiggly, booted feet. “Excuse me, J—”

  “Sh.” She raised her arm and flicked her hand in the universal get lost gesture.

  He gaped at her. “Excuse me?”

  Another wave of her hand while her stylus streaked across her tablet screen with the other. “Not interested.”

  Nice voice. Low and husky. Her attitude, on the other hand…. “But—”

  “Go away.” Her velvet voice carried a stubborn edge. In other circumstances, he would’ve admired her strength. But he’d wasted copious amounts of time hunting for the clearly inconsiderate and irresponsible female. “Fine. Get your own damn ride to Los Lobos. Jasmine.”

  Mina stared after the angry dominant stalking away then shook her head to derail her busy brain and dismiss the visions of her new collection she’d had to sketch out immediately. Fortunately, she’d captured most of her ideas before the cranky wolf man showed up. Jasmine, he’d called her. No one used her full name except her parents. The fact he knew it meant she’d pissed off Evan, her pal Lexi’s brother, aka her ride to Los Lobos.

  “Crap.” She set her tablet and stylus on her bag. “Hey, wait up.”

  A low growl reached her ears, the sound so subtle only her keen wolf hearing allowed her to snag it. And did she imagine it, or had the man sped up at her request?

  “Seriously?” She shoved aside the fabric on her legs and scrambled to her feet, knocking over her coffee in the process. The dregs of her mocha dribbled onto the floor.

  “Darn it.” She sidestepped to spare staining her pretty UGGs but stomped on her snack bag in the process, smashing the remains of her last doughnut and sending up a cloud of powdered sugar. “Geez.”

  Well, at least she hadn’t crushed the banana. She hurried to pack up and clean the mess on the floor as best she could then hauled her cargo to the carousel to collect her suitcase, soon reminded why she’d left it there to begin with. Two hands versus one duffel, one suitcase, plus two large garment bags equaled no chance of her managing it on her own. She’d have to ask Evan for help.

  She jogged over to the car rental counter where Evan chatted up a human girl who, from the look of her rosy cheeks, enjoyed his attention. Mina stopped behind him. “Hey, Evan? Sorry about the mix-up. I was just—”

  The car rental girl’s perfume, an overkill of roses meets oranges, assaulted Mina’s nose, and she sneezed. Ugh, the human must have dumped the whole bottle on her body. Mina sneezed again and coughed.

  “We have two left, sir.” The young woman tittered to Evan, as if Mina didn’t exist.

  “You can call me Evan, honey.”

  Oh wow, his voice. Deep, dark, and rich, the same way she liked her coffee. And holy moly his scent woke up her inner wolf—woodsy and fresh like the ocean air and the eucalyptus and cypress trees near her beach house back home. His smell overpowered the human’s cloying perfume and made Mina want to rub up against his back to imprint his yummy scent on her own body. Her wolf yipped inside her, interested in the plan, but Mina ignored the urge. He deliberately snubbed her. How annoying.

  More giggles erupted from the giddy human. “Well, Evan. We have two SUVs left with four-wheel drive. A Jeep and a Ford. They’re both great rides.”

  Mina snorted. She’d bet the flirty woman would give him a ride.

  “I’ll take the Jeep, please, honey.”

  Grr, how many times will he call her honey? And why did it push a possessive growl from her throat? Her shoulders tensed. Oh dear Lord, no. No freakin’ way. The cranky wolf could not be mate material. Down, girl. Not happening.

  “Okay, Evan. The Jeep is all yours.” Car Girl’s wannabe-seductive tone said she’d like to be all his, too. Mina’s wolf prowled inside her, prepared to pummel the human if she didn’t shut up already. She didn’t. “You know, I get off work in about an hour, if you’d like to—”

  Enough with the endless flirting. Mina clapped Evan’s back then stepped up to the counter next to him. “We’ll take the Jeep, thank you”—her gaze shot from the human’s surprised brown-eyed stare to the name tag on her polo shirt—“Honey.”

  Ah, so Evan probably wasn’t hitting on the human. Her inner wolf wagged her tail, but Mina disagreed with her wolf’s happiness. She didn’t have room for a mate in her life. Everything centered around her design business. No time, no interest, and way wrong wolf—Lexi’s brother, for goodness sake.

  Evan gazed at her with amber eyes so like her pal Lexi’s and yet so brimming with his own commanding presence Mina’s powers
of speech abandoned her. Her annoyance fled the building. Maybe even the state. She’d always thought both of Lexi’s brothers were handsome, having seen them in the family photos back at Lexi’s house in California, but up close and in person? This one—deliciously tall and utterly masculine with his chiseled, model-worthy features—made her insides quiver with desire. He wore his brown hair quite short, rather military, but it didn’t matter. With his height, good looks, and powerful presence, she’d bet her latest creations any fashion photographer would love to capture the stunning man rocking a runway.

  He frowned at her. “We? There’s no we here.” Dominant energy emanated from him in waves, whirling around Mina, making her skin erupt in goose bumps.

  She clenched her jaw. Oh no, he didn’t try to pull a dominant play on her. No submissive wolf, she straightened to her full height—all five foot four inches of it—and pushed back with her own power. If he expected her to roll over and submit, he’d be waiting until the Pacific Ocean froze over. As in, not happening.

  Time seemed to stall as they faced off, neither one backing down from their good, long stare. Honey cleared her throat and mumbled something about processing their paperwork then left them alone to their apparent duel. Smart human. Maybe Mina wouldn’t eat her. Her wolf only half joked.

  One breath, two breaths, three…oh, for the love of all things couture, someone had to end the stalemate, take the high road. From the dark look of the cranky dominant, he could keep it up forever. Mina, on the other hand, had places to be and dresses to deliver. And he was her ticket to Small Town, South Dakota.

  “Look, Evan. We’ve clearly gotten off on the wrong paw, here.” She stuck out her hand. “Hi. I’m Mina. Nice to meet you.”