Moonlight

by Ines Johnson

  That roguish grin blinded her for a minute, but Viviane shook herself. The last man who tossed a roguish grin her way left her pregnant and alone. “What’s your name?”

  “Pierce. My name is Pierce Alcede. And yours?”

  “Viviane. Viviane Veracruz.”

  “That’s nice. Old fashioned.”

  “Wait until you meet my family.” She gazed up again at this guy. There was an innocence around his eyes. Her mother would take one look at that and have him whimpering like a little puppy. If she were seriously considering this, then she had to at least give this guy a warning about what was to come. “My family’s… very non-traditional.”

  He let out a long, dramatic sigh. “My family’s nosey.”

  “Mine too.”

  He leaned in, conspiratorially, and stage-whispered into the quiet night. “And overbearing?”

  “Same here.” Viviane lost hold of the grin that escaped her lips.

  Pierce grinned back. Then his expression turned thoughtful. “But they love hard and would do anything to protect me. They’d come to my rescue in a minute. Even though they don’t like that I need to roam. They don’t quite believe I’m a loner. They hope that this is just a phase.”

  Viviane’s mother had thought her goals of higher learning were a phase, too. Gloria Veracruz had been proud of her whip-smart daughter. All her life her mother had taught her she was to be the best, that the Moon was the only limit. But as Viviane’s thirst for knowledge exceeded her life on the farm, Gloria began to pry the books out of her daughter’s hands. Her mother had been in denial when the acceptance letter arrived from Sequoia University.

  “But they support you?” Viviane’s stomach hardened as she choked out the words.

  He nodded. “That’s what families do for each other.”

  She tasted bile at the back of her throat. “Well, you’re not my family. And I’m not yours.”

  “You’re the closest thing I have to family in this place and time.” That roguish grin returned to his handsome face. “You know, you’re the second woman I’ve tried to rescue who didn’t need it. The first one married my brother, and now she’s family. She bares my family’s name and has their protection. Maybe this is fate? Maybe this is what I’m supposed to do with the rest of my life? Ride trains and rescue women in need.”

  “I don’t need any rescuing,” she insisted.

  He tugged one of those cherubic lips into his mouth and held his tongue. He glanced down at her, not in challenge. He simply waited.

  Viviane didn’t know what to do with this guy? He didn’t growl or press his points. He presented logical facts, plausible solutions, and then stepped back and waited for the verdict. He was neither average nor mediocre.

  And maybe he was a little bit right. Maybe she needed a little bit of rescuing. Temporarily, of course. One thing her mother had taught her, a thing she’d also learned in college, was that all men could go to the devil.

  Viviane no longer wanted any of the little devils in her life. Goddess, she hoped the baby was a girl. More than she wanted a baby girl, she didn’t want her mother to know she’d been right on that one count. It could set a dangerous precedent; her mother believing she was right about anything in Viviane’s life.

  Perhaps this wolf standing before her was the perfect solution. Her child would have a father, temporarily. Her mother and the pack could coalesce their ire around him. He’d be long gone before it could hit him. Her mother and the pack could focus their anger on a ghost and embrace her and her cub. This could work.

  “Fine,” she said. “If we’re going to do this, we’re going to do it my way.”

  Viviane crossed her arms at her chest and waited for him to argue.

  Pierce Alcede stood there, appearing to wait for her instructions.

  She blinked, realizing she didn’t have any further instructions. And so she pulled the top of her blouse aside.

  “Let’s do this,” she said. “Mark me.”

  Chapter Five

  Pierce pressed his lips together as Viviane pulled the collar of her blouse down. His throat muscles worked at the expanse of her honeyed skin. The sight brought in a tide of want that coated his tongue. The bare flesh glistened under the bright moonlight like a beacon in the dark, drawing him closer.

  He’d thought nothing of being the fall guy for her. Not because she was beautiful, which she was. He’d first noted her features under the glaring fluorescent lights of the train. In the natural glow of the Moon, she took his breath away.

  He was helping her because it was in his nature. He came from a long line of alphas that were hard-wired to protect and rescue anyone in need, especially if it were a female. And like his ancestors, Pierce often found himself in the service of damsels, but rarely attracted to them. Like his brother, and his father, Pierce liked his women strong.

  Viviane Veracruz was strong. In body, as well as mind. Back on the train, she’d easily and deftly incapacitated that young human. What had she called him? A douche.

  Pierce chuckled. It was clever how she’d used science to denigrate him. Too bad the douche didn’t get the joke. Pierce barely got it himself. Science and math weren’t his strong suites. The angles and planes of Viviane’s exposed neck and shoulder were inspiring him to take another crack at geometry. He wished he’d paid better attention in the class so he’d have the correct terms to describe the vision she made.

  She had her head turned and the tendon that stretched from just below her ear down the length of her neck pulsed, drawing him nearer. The bone that stretched past her shoulder blades and bisected the line of her collarbone to make a T was elegant, regal, perfection. All lines pointed straight to her heart.

  He took a step closer to her, heading straight for that pulsing bull’s eye. But then he stopped. All lines pointed to the center of her chest. The heart was on the left side of the chest. Her heart wasn’t his goal, just the bone below the pulse point of her neck. The mark would be visible with a scoop-necked blouse or dress. Marking a woman there showed the world she trusted her mate with her life. Pierce redirected his attention to that spot on the right side of her body.

  As he edged closer, his wolf reared up at the sight of her exposed collarbone. Pierce felt like a dog that had just been gifted a big bone. Man and wolf inched their way towards Viviane. His wolf pawed at him, tugging at the leash of control to get a better look, a deeper sniff, a first taste.

  Pierce placed his hand at Viviane’s back. He sensed the warmth there. His fingers fit perfectly into the space at her back. He caught her eyes widen as he dipped his head lower. He wondered if she were having second thoughts.

  Too late.

  Her scent filled his nostrils and made his wolf dizzy. He opened his mouth wide, incisors sharpening. He’d never marked a woman before. Never thought he would. Never felt compelled to.

  He didn’t exactly feel compelled now. It was his brain telling him that this was the right thing to do, to offer aid to this woman, and protection to her cub. At least that’s what he chanted to himself as he came ever closer to his target. This was for the cub, the innocent cub and its future. If Pierce would have no children of his own, the least he could do would be to secure this cub’s way at the beginning of life.

  Pierce’s lips touched Viviane’s skin first. The thin skin of his bottom lip heated as though blistered from coming near to the sun. But it was the cool, dead of night. A light breeze sailed between the small gap between his lips and her skin. The air sizzled, and he saw the mist of heat rise.

  He closed his lips over her skin. Before he could free his tongue to taste, the mist filled his jowls. His tongue struck her skin, and she gasped. Her inhalation caused her breasts to brush against his chest. Of its own accord, Pierce’s other hand went to her hip. With both hands full of her lush curves, he pulled her flush to his body.

  He licked at her skin. He thought she’d be sweet; some delicate flavor. But she wasn’t. She was a heady mix of earth and sky and moonlight in
his mouth. She tasted like a long run on a Full Moon. He rolled the taste around the tip of his tongue, flicking, licking, and sucking until the taste went away.

  It didn’t go away.

  Pierce reared back for a brief second; less than the time to take in a breath. Less than the time it took Viviane to blink. And then he was on her again.

  His teeth clamped around her bone. It pierced her skin. She groaned, low and deep in her throat. He brought her even closer. Her heart beat against his. Her soft belly pressed up against his hard abs. His groin pressed into her pubic bone. It was magnificent.

  He knew what he was experiencing was all instinct. It was the wolf, not man, who was at the forefront. It was the wolf, not man, who wanted to sink its claws into this woman and do more than mark her. It was the wolf, not man, who wanted to push her up against the cactus, shove up her skirt, and bury himself inside her.

  None of those things happened. Instead, distance forced its way between them. Pierce clutched Viviane tighter, determined not to separate himself from this woman.

  Something broke through the haze. The force coming between them was Viviane’s hand. Viviane’s voice reached out to him from far away, calling his name. It was a breathy voice, a voice his wolf perked up to. It was wolf, not man, who listened to her.

  Pierce exhaled, slowly. He released his teeth from her skin. He looked down at the mess he’d made of her beautiful angles. He wanted to give the spot at her collarbone a lick to right the wrong direction of the slant of his mark. But Viviane stepped away from him with wide eyes.

  She covered the area with her hand. A few droplets of blood peaked through her slender fingers. Pierce’s incisors ached at the sight. He shut his mouth. On his tongue he tasted her blood; thick and musty. He swallowed and his wolf tracked its path down his throat.

  “I’m sorry,” he said finally. “I’ve never done that before.”

  She didn’t quite meet his eyes. “I’ve never done it either.”

  “I wasn’t prepared for the effect it would have on my wolf.”

  “Me either.”

  Pierce gazed at Viviane. She seemed small to him then. He could admit to himself that he wanted her, which he also had to admit was strange. Male wolves typically stayed away from pregnant females. His attraction to her was likely due to his not having had a woman in months. He’d been out roaming. And then recovering in the hospital from the last woman he’d tried to rescue on a train.

  Pierce put a smile on his face, pushing his wolf down. He’d made a pact with this woman. Pacts were sacrament to wolves. He would be the bad guy, the fall guy to her family so that she and her cub would not bear any of the brunt.

  “I’m still in,” he said. “One deadbeat dad at your service.”

  He made a bow. When he rose, she still didn’t meet his eyes. Her lips pressed together, uncertain. There was a question on her brow, but she didn’t ask it.

  Pierce worried that she’d changed her mind. That, after she’d had to shove him away, she now doubted he would keep his word. Hell, he couldn’t keep his own damn teeth and tongue and lips to himself.

  A light breeze blew, and he leaned in closer, catching another whiff of her earthy scent. His lips twitched as he looked at her hand covering his mark. His fingers balled into fists as she slowly removed her hand.

  The sight of his claim stirred something within. He’d disappointed so many people in his life. He’d made too many promises to stay put that he couldn’t keep. But he wasn’t promising to stay this time. He was promising that he’d leave. It was a promise he could keep.

  Pierce reached his hand out to her. “Shall we?” he asked.

  Chapter Six

  Viviane stared at Pierce’s outstretched hand. Her fingers twitched as she wrangled in her mind with what she’d gotten herself into. She’d never let a male mark her. She’d never much liked necking.

  The first time a boy had slobbered on her neck she’d shoved him away, kicked him in the balls, and dashed into the shower. She had no idea what all the fuss was about with boys? They all seemed to want the same thing; to slobber over her neck or put their tongue in her mouth.

  Viviane had steered clear of males in her youth. Unless it was out in the fields for a race, or in the playroom for a battle of wits. It was much more fun to best them at sports or games or academics. It took a male to best her in a battle of wits to make her succumb to the physical wiles.

  She hadn’t minded Daniel’s slobbering. She’d always been more eager to get past the foreplay and straight to the act of making love.

  Ha! Making love.

  It had never been that. They’d fucked. It had been good, even the part where he’d insisted on putting his tongue all over her neck and breasts. But after doing that a few times, he’d fucked her over.

  And now, this man, this wolf, had offered her his kindness. He’d offered her his aid. Viviane looked from his outstretched hand to his face, specifically to his lips.

  They’d felt marvelous on her neck. She’d felt their impact in her core. His mark had felt like a living, breathing thing. Her pulse beat at the spot of his brand as though it had its own heartbeat.

  There was something in his face, something that told her she could trust him. That he wouldn’t let her down. And that scared her.

  Daniel had never stuck his neck out for her. He’d used her until he’d had his fill and then he’d discarded her. Well, she’d learned her lesson. She’d do the same to this guy.

  She’d use him up for her purposes, and she’d kick him to the curb when she was done. There would be nothing he could do about it. No argument he could launch. No rational equation he could null.

  Viviane balled her fists and put her hands in the pockets of her skirt. She’d never trust a male again. Including this one who had shown her nothing but kindness.

  He was just like all the others. Somewhere in that body of hard muscled perfection, lay just another mediocre man getting by on his charm. He’d show her his true colors at some point in their short time together. She just needed to be rid of him before it happened.

  She took the lead, stepping past his hand and grabbing the handle of her suitcase. “It’s this way.”

  Pierce retracted his hand, grabbed his own sack, and followed her without comment.

  He was an enigma to her. He was clearly alpha. But he hadn’t once asserted himself or tried to lead her. Not even on the train. He hadn’t insisted on helping with her luggage when she struggled to put it in the overhead compartment. He’d stood back and let her handle the matter when the douche got out of hand.

  “Where are we exactly?” he said, keeping pace beside her.

  “The Sonora Valley.”

  “I thought the Sonora was a desert?”

  “Not for the last century,” she said. “Not since the Pacific Ocean’s waters came inland.”

  The majestic Saguaros remained as a reminder of what the land once was, a barren desert. Now, at the base of the cacti where sand once lay, was lush green foliage.

  Mostly. There were still patches of dry earth here and there. The ocean didn’t always reach this far inland. The rain was infrequent and droughts were a constant worry for the inhabitants of the valley.

  Viviane and Pierce walked in silence for a few moments. Pierce looked around at the landscape with wide-eyed wonder. The brown of his eyes churned from hazel to gold and back again. He couldn’t take his eyes off the cacti and she couldn’t take her eyes of him. Until he turned from her and stepped off the path.

  “What is that?”

  Viviane grabbed at him. “Pierce, don’t.”

  She barely had a grip on him but he halted instantly at her words. Turning to her with that patient expression, he waited for an explanation.

  “This isn’t our land,” she warned. “It belongs to another wolf pack. The Guerreros. They’re somewhat rivals of my family’s. The last thing I need to deal with is that pack. We have to stay on the road. It’s neutral ground.”

  Pierce
nodded and fell back into step with her. “It looks like farm land.”

  “It’s a vineyard. The Guerreros make wine.” They were too far off the beaten path to see the rows and rows of orderly, squat vines that looked like barren rose bushes. “My family, we’re sheep farmers. We have a small plot where we grow food for our kitchens. It’s only about ten acres.”

  “Ten acres just for food?” His tone was incredulous. “How much land for the whole farm.”

  “I don’t know?” Viviane shrugged. “A hundred or so?”

  “Wow.” His eyes churned brighter at the thought. “I’ve never seen this much lush land in all my life. I’ve been up north to the Canadas. This is my first time this far south.”

  Viviane looked out at the land. She had to admit; she’d missed seeing the free ranging grass instead of tufts of it between concrete and brick. It was nice to see the Saguaros in the skyline instead of skyscrapers. The air was clean and full of life, rather than clogged with chemicals and smog. It was good to be home.

  A rumble came from the foliage to their right.

  Pierce put his body in front of hers to shield her. She should’ve been annoyed. Hadn’t she proven that she could take care of herself? But then again, she liked the view.

  Pierce had wide shoulder blades. He was big and brawn as opposed to Daniel’s lithe body. Viviane had often hunched down because she had an inch of height on Daniel. And, if she was honest, her shoulders were broader. Pierce had a couple of inches on her and his shoulders were broad enough to block her sight. She had the urge to rest her head in the divot between his shoulder blades.

  “What have you got there, Vivi?”

  Viviane sighed at that voice. She’d been so distracted by the smell of Pierce, and the throbbing at her neck, and the broadness of his back, and maybe she’d taken a glance at his firm ass, that she hadn’t sensed the danger approaching.

  Jesus Guerrero stepped out of the underbrush; naked as the day he was born. The Alpha wolf was as tall and broad as Pierce. Instead of the earthy brown skin that stretched across Pierce’s muscles, Jesus’ skin tone was as tan as the sand that used to coat the ground at his bare feet. His dark hair was mussed, as though he’d come from a roll in the hay with some she-wolf, or two. His eyes glittered silver with moonglow.