Changeling Moon (17 page)

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Authors: Dani Harper

BOOK: Changeling Moon
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She grabbed Connor's hand with both of hers and dug in her heels. “My puppy. Now.”
He laughed and threw an arm around her, gathering her to him so effortlessly that she might as well have been weightless. She squirmed but there was no escaping. He nibbled at the corners of her mouth. “Puppy,” she murmured against his lips just before they took hers over. The kiss was long and deep, but still just a kiss—yet her nipples hardened almost to the point of pain, and her thong was suddenly soaked. The want, the desire for this man, pulsed raw and urgent within her.
She drew a long shaky breath and stepped back, and was both grateful and disappointed that he let her. He kept hold of her hand, however, and rubbed his thumb over it as he led her past several corrals and outbuildings toward an old barn that stood apart. Its hipped roof sported new metal cladding and the walls were neatly painted, yet the feeling of extreme age remained. Zoey figured the building was more than twice as old as she was. Maybe even three times . . .
“I have to announce our presence,” warned Connor. He began to scuff his feet, then whistle, as they approached the barn. “Lila is a little protective for the first few minutes.”
“You found a mother for the puppies?”
“Lila's one of the best surrogate moms around.”
Zoey was about to ask questions when something enormous, dark, and shaggy appeared in the doorway. “A
bear
? Jesus, Connor, you gave the puppies to a
bear
?” Her grip on his hand tightened as she backed up several steps.
He burst out laughing. “I guess she does look like a bear, especially in the dark. Lila, come here and meet Zoey.”
“But—” Zoey froze as the creature marched over. It was even bigger up close, and its broad head was level with her waist. It snorted loudly as it smelled her up and down with a wide black muzzle. Suddenly a huge tail emerged from the shaggy shape and began to wag. “Omigod, it
is
a dog!”
“Newfoundland. An old breed, specifically developed to protect children and save people from drowning.” Connor waggled his fingers and Lila went to him at once. “Here, pet her,” he called to Zoey. “Lila's a great mom. She's fostered dozens of orphans over the years, even litters of kittens and a couple of piglets.”
Zoey reached out tentatively and ran her fingers through the thick reddish-black fur in wonder. “It's so soft—and there's so much of it!”
“Don't be fooled, there's a lot of dog under it too. Lila's big, even for her breed. She weighs better than a couple hundred pounds, so don't let her lean on you.”
Suddenly the high-pitched whine of puppies could be heard. The dog chuffed once and trotted into the barn.
“See?” said Connor, flipping on a light switch beside the door. “She's always on the job.”
They followed the big dog and found her lying on her side as several puppies clambered their way to her teats. There were five big balls of fuzz—baby Newfs, Zoey assumed—and between them wriggled four small boxer pups, their white markings standing out in stark contrast to the ocean of black fur that surrounded them. Connor knelt beside the group and held out a hand for Zoey, pulling her down with him.
“They've grown!”
“The pups were small to start with but I think they've caught up nicely. Even yours isn't much of a runt anymore.”
“He's not a runt!” she retorted. And he wasn't. Three of the pups were chestnut with white feet and white faces. Her puppy had those white markings too but the rest of his coat was dark and uniquely striped.
Brindle
, Connor had explained. She remembered the feel of the pup in her hands, so tiny as she tried to get him to breathe. . . . Now he was plump, almost roly-poly and every bit as big as his three boxer littermates. “He's gorgeous.”
She couldn't help being glad, however, that he'd never grow as big as the Newf puppies would become. It would be too much like having a pony in her apartment.
“You got a gorgeous name for him yet?”
“No,” she chuckled. “And it won't be a silly name either. I just haven't had time to think about it yet. When can I take him home?”
“Ideally, he needs about five more weeks, maybe six. We want him to get a good start. But he needs to be socialized, so I'd encourage you to visit a lot.”
“I'd like to pick him up but he's busy eating.”
“He's going to chow down a little longer and then he's going to fall asleep. Maybe we'll come back later, after we have our own dinner. It should be ready now.”
“Okay.” She trailed her fingers over his fuzzy little body. He was so warm, so soft. She jumped as Lila's wide black nose bumped her hand suddenly.
“She's just making sure you're being gentle enough,” laughed Connor.
“I guess I don't have to worry about him with Lila on the job!”
“Not a bit.”
Connor's arm was around her shoulders as they walked back to the house. When her heart began racing, she slid away and held his hand instead. The little extra distance didn't help much. She was finding it impossible to be close to this man and not want him. Any moment, she was in danger of drooling.
She almost did drool when he opened the front door but it was a reaction to the savory aroma that met them. Her stomach growled, and she was grateful for the distraction as she followed Connor to the kitchen, to the table set in a spacious breakfast nook. The bay window overlooked the back of the property, where the land sloped away to a river that ran silver beneath the twilight sky. The hills beyond had turned to dark blue and purple, while above them, the evening star seemed impossibly bright. “It's beautiful,” she breathed.
“It is, isn't it? You can see why the dining room doesn't get used much.” He lit a trio of votive candles on the table and switched off the overhead light. “You can see it better this way. I've got the same view upstairs too, from my bedroom balcony.”
His bedroom . . . a tiny thrill shivered through her and her mouth went dry. She definitely wanted to see
that
room, and it was strangely irritating that she wanted it so much. The hangover made everything irritating, of course, but the nap and the elixir had taken the raw edge off that. Nope, it had to be plain old unfinished business—the business she and Connor had begun in the Watson side yard. Sure, she'd had the best orgasm of her life, but she couldn't help wanting more. Wanting it all
. . .
Flustered, she rubbed her hands over her face and through her hair, and tried to focus on the exquisite view, the pattern of the wood on the table, the color of the pottery dishes, anything but what she'd like to be doing with Connor Macleod.
 
Oven mitts in hand, Connor paused to look at Zoey, appreciating anew her thick russet hair. It wasn't tied back tonight, but fell free in soft waves that gleamed red in the candlelight. He wanted to gather it in his hands while he kissed every golden freckle on her body. She was staring out at the twilit scene, but he had the feeling she wasn't seeing it—and suddenly he caught the subtle scent of pheromones newly released. His groin tightened and the wolf within stirred restlessly, but remained at bay. He breathed a quick thanks to Jessie and the corded bracelet he now wore on his wrist. She'd made it look like simple braided hemp with scattered stone nuggets. Close inspection revealed tiny bits of fur and a wolf's tooth woven into it. A gris-gris, Jessie had called it. Whatever it was, he was damn grateful it was working. He was taking Zoey Tyler to bed tonight, come hell or high water, and his inner wolf wouldn't be able to get in the way.
He shook himself, struggling to get his mind back on food, and pulled a pair of steaming pies from the oven. Zoey jumped a little as he set them on the table, and he had the satisfaction of knowing exactly where
her
thoughts had been.
“Smells wonderful,” she said.
So do you.
“Before you get any notion that I can cook, this is strictly a Watson specialty,” he said as he cut into one of the pies and set a slice on her plate. “Rosemary Chicken.”
“Bill and Jessie do takeout?”
“Not exactly. They showed up at the clinic one day during winter calving season a few years ago and asked if I'd try the catering service they were starting. They offered to stock the fridge with meals at cost in return for getting feedback on the service. I was up to my armpits in cases and not paying enough attention, so I said
yeah, sure, fine
. As it turns out, the food was a godsend. Individual meals of every description, ready to nuke and serve.”
“Perfect for a busy veterinarian.”
“And his grateful assistants. Believe me, they were happy. Meanwhile, Bill and Jessie just kept stocking the fridge every week like clockwork. It was a month after calving season before I finally clued in that there was no catering service to be tested. Turns out that Birkie had given up trying to get me to eat properly, so she plotted with the Watsons to fix the problem. Worked like a charm, and the clinic fridge has been full ever since. This one too, when I'm not looking.”
“Sounds like the Watsons have adopted you. Did you get to know them at the Diner?”
“Actually I met Bill when I was facedown in a muddy corral. Rob Garrick raises rodeo stock and I was getting ready to do a herd health inspection for him when his newest bull decided he didn't want me in the corral. Knocked me down without any warning.” The bull, a 2,200-pound spotted monster with long curved horns, had been utterly unstable.
“My God, were you hurt?”
“He hit me pretty hard. For the first couple of moments I just lay there stunned,” explained Connor. “Then this red-haired giant jumped the fence, hollering and swinging a shovel like an avenging angel with a sword. Hauled my sorry butt out of there. Probably saved my life.”
In truth, if the massive animal had attacked him again, death wouldn't have been the worst outcome. Having his life in imminent danger would have triggered Connor's powerful survival instincts. He would have Changed to wolf form right there in broad daylight for anyone to see.
“Anyway, Bill drove me to the clinic, where Lowen told me I had a broken shoulder and five cracked ribs.”
“Ouch. So you guys have been friends ever since?”
“Ever since we barbecued that miserable animal.” And discovered they shared a passion for singing under a full moon. Connor had been aware of new wolves in the area for a few days. He had been delighted to discover his rescuer was one of them.
Zoey laughed. “You're kidding!”
“Really and truly. I told Rob plainly this bull would kill somebody if he took it on the circuit. He'd already had plenty of trouble with it so that was that. Both Bill and I had a freezer full of beef by the end of the week. I split mine with Lowen and Bev.”
Zoey was quiet for a long moment. “Jessie tells me you can talk to animals,” she said at last.
He looked at her steadily, and part of him couldn't help being captivated anew by Zoey's amber eyes. The flicker of candles brought out a golden light in them, reminding him once again of that long-ago falcon he'd treated. Fierce and beautiful. “Not in so many words. And not to that particular bull. I couldn't reach him at all. Didn't sense what he was about to do either. But usually, yes, I know what an animal feels, what it needs. Usually I can get across what I want them to do, too. Stand still, lift a paw, whatever. It comes in pretty handy in my practice. It also came in handy tonight—I told the welcoming committee to go hang out by the river until I called them.”
“And they just went?”
“Sure they did. In their eyes, I'm their pack leader.”
“I could certainly see that they adored you.” She laid her silverware across her empty plate and sat back. “Look, I have to ask. Are you psychic? Jessie says that's how you knew the wolf was there last night before anyone heard it. Before
I
knew it was there.”
“Yeah, that's right.”
Her eyebrows shot up. “Just like that?”
“What do you mean?”
“You're so matter-of-fact about it. Your face, your expression—I don't know, it's like asking someone if the sky is blue. As if it were an everyday occurrence to know the future in advance.”
“For some people, it is. Look at you, for instance. You know things too, see things. You saw a wolf in my face last night.”
Zoey laughed at that. “That was hardly prophetic. That was just weirdness. I was bone-tired and had a drink on an empty stomach. Seeing things. That's all.”
“Are you sure about that?”
“Yeah, I'm sure.” She didn't sound certain at all. “Look, Jessie says your gift is really solid. But mine's flaky and seeing your face turn into a wolf just proves it. I'd been dreaming about that wolf, so it was already on my mind. Case closed.”

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