Blackthorne, Fiona - Moonstruck [Blue Moon 1] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) (2 page)

BOOK: Blackthorne, Fiona - Moonstruck [Blue Moon 1] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting)
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“Um.” She hesitated, biting her soft lower lip in a way that made Robert want to nibble it, too. “What time is it now?”

“Almost four o’clock,” Declan replied, joining them and moving to be a little closer to her.

Her eyes widened in surprise. “Four o’clock? Are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure.” Declan chuckled, surreptitiously taking another step toward her.

She frowned. “I…I’m confused. I guess I don’t understand. How…oh…oh, never mind. It doesn’t matter. I should get going back, though. So, if you could just…”

“You’re not walking back anywhere,” Sean said firmly. “It will be pitch black soon. Night comes early in Maine in the fall.”

“I know that,” she replied somewhat tersely, lifting her chin. “I grew up in Portland.”

“This isn’t Portland,” Sean said. “Blue Moon is no place for a woman to be walking around after dark.”

Robert could smell the desperation rolling off Sean and Declan, the arousal mixed with the fear of this woman walking alone in the woods or on the road after dark. Hell, he could smell himself and the desire that was simmering in his veins, stirring his cock and flooding his mind with images of her, pale and naked, on his bed. But mostly, he felt fear at the thought of her, fragile and vulnerable, left to the night and to
Them
.

“Come inside,” Robert said, putting all the force of his personality into his voice. The words rang and echoed in a range that was just outside normal human hearing, but the woman started and sucked in a quick breath, her unconscious mind reverberating with the command.

Declan gently put his hand on the back of her arm and gestured for her to walk toward the house. The smell of her fear intensified, and it stirred the deepest primal instincts within Robert. He wanted to reach out and pull her into his arms, to inhale the scent of her hair and comfort her. His conscious mind told him this was ridiculous, that he had only seen her for the first time three minutes ago. His heart, however, had settled into a new, complex, and thrilling rhythm, leaving the old simple pattern of heartbeats behind forever.

Could she be the one? he thought wildly for a moment. Could the old legend be true?

Catching each of his brother’s eyes as they followed the woman across the yard to the sprawling stone mansion, he knew that they were thinking the same thing, and for the first time in his 36 years, he felt hope.

* * * *

Ava Bell, “ABD,” or ‘all but dissertation,’ was no fool. Yes, it was about to storm. Yes, it was getting late and dark. Yes, she was hopelessly lost. But no, it was not smart to go into a house with three strangers, even if they were mouthwateringly gorgeous.

She compromised with herself since the men didn’t seem like they were going to take no for an answer. She would go inside the house with them, but she’d stay in the entry, near the door. That way, she could bolt if she needed to. It wasn’t that she was exactly afraid of them that made her paranoid. It was precisely because she
wasn’t afraid at all
.

And that scared the pants off her.

She tried to remember when she had become afraid of men. For the umpteenth time, she wondered if it was because of her stepfather’s alcoholic mean streak, or the angry, cruel high school boyfriend, or the controlling, domineering college lover who had needed a restraining order to get the point across to him that it was over. At least in grad school, she had been smart enough to stay single. There were enough chauvinistic, misogynistic assholes in the “progressive” world of professional academia that she had all she could handle both emotionally and professionally. The last thing she needed or wanted to do was spend any more time than necessary talking with three men who seemed ready to beat their chests then pose for the cover of a romance novel.

Looking up at the huge stone mansion as she drew near, Ava realized it was extremely old. She guessed it was eighteenth century or even earlier, with its gray and grim façade, tall windows, and clusters of chimneys. The windows on the ground floor glowed faintly golden from light that seemed to come from deeper inside the house. Something about the shadows just at the edges of the windows made her shiver with an unnamable dread.

“Are you okay?” asked the first man who had spoken to her when she came out of the woods.
Bachelor Number One
, she thought to herself with a silent cynical laugh. This bachelor was over six feet tall, with thick black hair, naturally dark olive skin, and broad shoulders. It was hard to tell anything else about his body because of the leather barn coat that he wore. Still, that was plenty to go on.

“I’m fine, thanks,” she replied.

“You sure?” asked the second one who had spoken to her.
Bachelor Number Two
. This fine-looking man also stood over six feet tall, with close-cropped lighter brown hair and a face that showed the rugged lines of being exposed to sun, wind, and water on a consistent basis. He wore a jacket that looked like it was meant for an extreme sportsman, probably some unaffordable, technologically amazing outdoor gear from L.L.Bean.

“Positive,” she said, suppressing the urge to laugh despite her underlying unease.

“We’ll get you warmed up real quick with a hot toddy when we get inside,” said Bachelor Number Three. This one seemed a little younger than the other two, but not by much, and he certainly wasn’t any shorter than them. His mouth seemed permanently set in a grin, and his hair was black like his one brother, though his features seemed more similar to the second brother’s.

Brother?

Brothers?

She bit her lip as she figured out that these three men were clearly brothers. There was enough resemblance between them to suggest it, but she gasped a little when she realized what had made her recognize their relationship. Their eyes.

Golden-amber eyes.

What froze her to the marrow, though, was that she absolutely knew she had seen these eyes before.

Chapter 2

The heavy oak front door locked shut with a satisfying bang and clack of the thick iron bolt. Not that inside the house was more cheerful than outside, Declan thought. But at least it wasn’t near the woods, near
Them
.

“Here,” he said, reaching out to the woman, wanting to peel the wet coat off her slender shoulders. “Let me take that for you.”

“No, um, thank you,” she replied nervously. “I’m not staying. I really do have to get back.”

The agony he felt at the mere thought of her leaving him, of being unprotected, was as unexpected as it was deep. It was like hitting a surprise swell in the boat and landing with a jarring crash on the surface of the water.

“Well,” Robert said, smiling gently at her, “at least we should introduce ourselves. I’m Robert Molineaux. These are my brothers, Declan and Sean.”

Declan nodded silently, but Sean piped up, “The pleasure’s all mine.”

“Oh,” the woman said flatly. “Hello. I’m Ava Bell. I’m over on West Road, if you can tell me where that is from here.”

“West Road?” Sean exclaimed. “That whole dirt road can’t have more than five old vacation houses along it, and they’re all empty after Labor Day.”

“They
are
all empty,” Ava replied with a ghost of a smile. “I’m just staying in one of the cottages for a little bit.”

Ava…Ava…Ava…all Declan could think of was what a beautiful name that was. Beautiful, ethereal, just like her. He wanted to take her in his arms, gently, carefully, and cradle her against him, feel her wrap her body around his as he sank kisses into her lips and learned her shape and softness. Desire stunned him, rendering him silent, and one glance at Robert showed that he knew his older brother felt the same way. Even Sean’s cockiness was flavored with an eagerness to please that he was pretty sure he had never seen before.

She drew them to her, like the moon that could pull oceans across the world, like the moon that fired their blood.

He could hardly dare to ask himself if she could be the one. It was too much to hope for, and yet, he had never felt this way before about any woman. Besides, there was the legend. He had never believed in it, but now, he couldn’t help but wonder.

“Which cottage are you staying in?” Robert asked, a worried note in his voice.

“It’s just a little guest cottage,” Ava replied evasively. She seemed so skittish about revealing anything about herself, and Declan suddenly found himself wanting to know why. In fact, he found he wanted to know everything about her, from the shape of her toes to the books that she liked, to the way she tasted.

“You mean the White Farm cottage?” Sean demanded anxiously, and the name finally stung Declan’s brain back into working order.

“You’re staying at White Farm?” he echoed, trying to keep the overpowering worry for her out of his voice.

“Uh, yes,” Ava replied, eyeing them as though they had all lost it. Well maybe they had. Maybe they had all lost it to her. “Look, I just need directions back to the main road. I can walk from there.”

“You’re not going back there,” Robert growled, and Declan shot him a warning look to tell him to keep the animal out of his voice.

“Robert’s right,” Declan added quietly, but no less authoritatively. “There’s no way you are going to stay at White Farm.”

Sean couldn’t seem to say anything, and Declan saw him shaking with the effort to keep from shifting right then and there.

Ava pressed her lips together and gave them all a look of highly intelligent, independent anger.

“I’m leaving now,” she said simply and coldly, then undid the bolt on the door and strode out into the fast-deepening twilight.

“No!” All three men shouted together as they leaped after her. Declan caught her around the waist while Robert held her wrists and Sean caught her feet to keep her from kicking. Once they were all safely back inside and the door was bolted again, Declan released her.

Instantly, she fled through the house, only to find herself cornered in the library where there was a brilliant blaze going in the fireplace but no other light.

She grabbed an iron poker and held it like a baseball bat. Declan wondered where she learned that trick, as it was a far more practical way to be ready to swing than holding it out in front. Declan wondered where she had learned that trick.

“You sick fucks stay away from me!” she snapped.

Sean started toward her, anguish in his eyes, as if he wanted to embrace her and reassure her. Robert gripped his shoulder and held him back.

“We are
not
here to hurt you,” Robert said, using the little voice trick he had that never failed to drive home his meaning.

Ava shivered, but tightened her grip on the poker. She began to edge toward the window, and Declan saw at once that she was thinking of her chances of smashing the window and jumping through it before they caught her.

“Ava, you’re safe here,” Sean pleaded, all his humorous arrogance gone. “Safer than you would be at White Farm. Please, trust us.”

Declan watched as Ava didn’t move any further, but also didn’t put the poker down or relax in the slightest. In a way, he couldn’t blame her.

After all, it was an honest question whether she was safer on a farm with
Them
or in a mansion full of werewolves.

Chapter 3

Ava sat in Robert’s big leather wingback chair by the fire in the library, but she still kept the poker by her side. Robert sat across from her in the other wingback chair, and Sean could tell by the tweak of a smile at the corner of his lips that Robert was loving the fact that her scent would be all over his chair.

Hell, Sean wanted her scent all over him! From the minute he saw her, standing so alone and lost at the edge of the dark forest, he wanted her. He wanted her, he wanted her, he wanted her—and not just for sex. He wanted her smile, her laugh, her soft breaths, every damn thing about her. His need for her was so intense that it almost physically hurt his heart. It certainly made sitting pretty damn uncomfortable, with his cock swollen and at full attention. He could tell that Robert and Declan were having the same issue, and he had to bite back a grin. They all wanted Ava, and that was a damn good sign. He hadn’t been crazy to believe in the legend, to have faith that it would come true, even if the other two had been so down and blue about it.

BOOK: Blackthorne, Fiona - Moonstruck [Blue Moon 1] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting)
4.76Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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