Free Hunter's Moon by Loribelle Hunt Page A

I’m happy about you putting yourself in danger though.”
    So the man could bend a little after all. She smiled. Teased. “I think I’m pretty safe with the big bad wolf watching out for me.”
    He chuckled, ushering her out the door. He stayed behind her. Once she’d thought that was because he enjoyed ogling her ass, but maybe it was just as much a protective instinct. She frowned. There was too much she didn’t know about him, but he seemed to know everything about her. He’d been wheedling information out of her bit by bit for months. He’d got her last secret with the story about her parents. Speaking of which, where was her father? She was waiting when the others entered the office, but no sign of Arthur.
    “Where is he?”
    Asa rubbed the back of his neck, a disgusted look on his face. “Gone.”
    “How? When?” Anthony sat quietly while she asked questions. He must have been told during that whispered conversation at the door.
    “We didn’t search him well enough. He had a cell phone. I went in to take it when it rang, but instead he got me with a chair.”
    “You’re kidding.” She couldn’t quite keep the disbelief or censure out of her voice.
    “I wish I was.”
    Just when she was beginning to believe maybe his story was true. But did an innocent man run? She had an unwelcome, disturbing thought. He would if he was obsessed with one prey in particular. If killing that man meant more to him than proving his innocence. “Fuck,” she muttered.
    “What?” Anthony asked.
    “He went after Burns.” She couldn’t prove it, but it’s what she would do in his position. If he was telling the truth, and some time in the night, she’d started to hope he was.
    Anthony’s cursing was more colorful and lasted longer than hers. When he fell silent, she asked, “Now what?”
    “We track him.” His voice was rough, almost as much wolf as man. Acting on instinct, the visceral fear any human would feel confronted with a werewolf, she backed away a step. His eyes narrowed, nostrils flared, as the focus of his anger shifted. She lifted her chin in the air. She trusted him, damn it. It was a move born purely of instinct. He couldn’t fault her for that.
    “Let’s get going then,” she said, ignoring his ire and its cause.
    He didn’t move, didn’t blink, but she swore she could see him thinking. Could hear the words before they were even spoken. He was going to try to order her to stay behind. He was going to do the thing he’d promised not to and try to change her. He smiled, but there was nothing nice about it. She must have looked as mutinous as she felt. What could she say? It was a personal failing.
    “Still don’t trust me, Gia?”
    She shrugged, unable to resist the taunt. “Guess we’ll see. Do you trust me?”
    “And on that note, gentlemen,” Clint said wryly, “it’s time for us to vacate the premises.”
    They were all too happy to do that. The traitors. They could have stayed around to stick up for her. But, no, Clint shut the door behind them with a final sounding thud. And Anthony prowled closer. The look in his eyes, a cross between anger and desire and possession had her backing up. Careful measured steps until her back hit the wall.
    “Going somewhere, baby?” he asked, pressing his body against hers. His erection pushed against her belly, and at the contact, her womb fluttered. She took a shaky breath.
    “Wasn’t planning on it.”
    “But you’re backing away from me.”
    “Not anymore,” she said sarcastically, but she couldn’t miss the flash of hurt in his eyes and she softened. “You had that look on your face. The wolf in your voice.”
    “What look?”
    “The one that says you want to kill someone. Or something.”
    He sighed, leaned his forehead against hers. “I would never hurt you. One day maybe you’ll believe that.”
    She lifted her hands to cup his face, rubbed her thumbs over his cheekbones. “I do know that. It was just an instinctive move.”