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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.

  Moonlight Danger

  Copyright 2016 by Tina Donahue

  ISBN: 978-1-68361-009-0

  Cover art by Mina Carter

  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

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Epilogue

  Wolf Moon by Desiree Holt

  Dear Reader:

  For a long time, I’ve loved shifter stories and finally wrote my first, Pleasure Me, for Decadent’s Black Hills Wolves series. I enjoyed the plot so much I knew I had to do more shifters. You can imagine how thrilled I was when Desiree Holt invited me to be one of the launch authors for her scorching new series, Hot Moon Rising.

  With Nick and Portia, my lovers in Moonlight Danger, I’ve explored the hazardous world a shifter inhabits, not only from the human but the wolf side. At times, nothing is as it seems. Danger seems to lurk everywhere. However, I also wanted the story to focus on Portia and Nick’s romance—uber steamy but with sweet and tender moments. What I like to call heat with heart. My author brand.

  Already, the Moonlight pack is a part of me. I can’t wait to see where this series goes with the other talented authors bringing this shifter world to life.

  I’d love to hear what you think about Nick and Portia’s story. You can reach me at: [email protected] .

  The Hot Moon Rising Series

  Wolf Moon by Desiree Holt

  Venus Moon by Desiree Holt

  Blood Moon by Desiree Holt

  Hidden Moon by Afton Locke

  Moonlight Danger by Tina Donahue

  Coming Soon

  Silver Moon by Merryn Dexter

  Hunger Moon by Merryn Dexter

  Moonlight Danger

  Alone for too long, they’ve finally found each other and home.

  Now, they’ll have to fight to keep both safe.

  Nick Wyatt lost his mate and vowed never to love again. The hurt’s too deep. Portia Danes knows about loss. When her parents were killed, they left her as the only shifter in their hometown. Needing to be with her own kind, she found Moonlight…and Nick.

  Nick fights his longing for Portia but can’t resist, coming alive within her loving and lusty embrace.

  Heated days and nights follow. Their bond grows and so do a series of strange accidents in Moonlight. Minor at first then increasing in gravity and frequency. When the pack’s suspicions ignite about Portia, Nick must defend her against an unexpected enemy or risk losing her forever.

  Moonlight Danger

  Hot Moon Rising Book 5

  By

  Tina Donahue

  Moonlight Wolf Pack

  Charlie Aquino (human) – Detective for the sheriff’s gang task force for Palmetto County Sheriff’s Department. His partner is Jesse Farrell.

  - Mate: Liana Cosa

  Liana Cosa Aquino – Refugee from a different pack. She works part-time as a waitress at Moonlight Diner.

  - Mate: Charlie Aquino

  Alexa Martin Farrell – Left her pack over a disagreement with her alpha. She moved to Florida and helped the pack find a small community of cottages in Moonlight, Florida. She works as an Internet researcher and gets jobs through her online website. She also does research for The Defenders.

  - Mate: Jesse Farrell

  Jesse Farrell (human) – Detective for the sheriff’s gang task force for Palmetto County Sheriff’s Department. His partner is Charlie Aquino.

  - Mate: Alexa Martin (who saved him when on assignment he was attacked by a gang)

  Riesa Marlowe (human) – A psychic who helped locate Hannah Raines.

  - Mate: Derek Sawyer

  Hannah Raines Molina – She was kidnapped and saved by Jesse and Charlie with the help of Riesa Marlowe, a psychic. Works as Alexa Martin’s research assistant.

  - Mate: Rand Molina

  Rand Molina - Derek’s second-in-command in the Moonlight pack. Partners with Derek Sawyer at The Defenders, a private security agency.

  - Mate: Hannah Raines

  Derek Sawyer – Alpha of a small pack, most of their original clan was destroyed when developers took the land they were living on and many of their pack were killed by hunters. They hid in an abandoned orange grove until Alexa offered them the bungalows in exchange for their help. He and the others have embraced Jesse & Alexa and Charlie & Liana and given the female shifters a new sense of belonging.

  - Partners with Rand Molina at The Defenders Agency, a private security and bodyguard agency.

  - Mate: Riesa Marlowe

  The Defenders Agency - A private security and bodyguard agency formed by Rand and Derek once they were established in the little enclave of cottages. It provides good income for the pack. A majority of the pack is involved in the cases they take.

  Jesse and Charlie are their contacts with the sheriff’s department and also refer many cases to them.

  Chapter One

  Nick Wyatt stepped into the bungalow kitchen, stopped dead, and should have run. Welded to the spot, he drank in the scene, his mouth going dry.

  Portia Danes reclined on the black-and-white linoleum, long legs stretched out, skin sun kissed to a rich caramel color. A dainty rose tattoo graced her right calf, a kid’s Band-Aid on her left knee, the strip depicting what looked to be a mermaid. Maybe that had been her fave cartoon character as a kid. She was twenty-six now. Lush. Ripe. Pure female. He lost his smile. Perspiration rolled down his chest, his reaction having nothing to do with the sticky May afternoon. Her heady scent surrounded him—clean skin, a flowery shampoo or soap fragrance, and musk. A woman and she-wolf’s provocative aroma.

  He leaned against the jamb for support. Leaving still wasn’t an option.

  Blindly, she groped for a tool to her side, selecting an odd-looking wrench he couldn’t identify, since he wasn’t a plumber. In his thirty years, he’d never seen one dressed as she was now. Pink socks with lacy edges peeked past the tops of her work boots. Her denim overall-shorts were more Daisy from Dukes of Hazzard than a Future Farmers of America member toiling in the tomato fields. Her tank top was also pink, matching her cute socks.

  She worked the tool and grunted, her left heel digging into the floral bedsheet beneath her, creating an oddly provocative scene. Like a woman in the throes of passion, fighting against release, wanting the pleasure to continue for hours with him naked and willing above her.

  His senses roared into overdrive. His cock thickened painfully. Time to go. Actually, well past that point. He didn’t need her complicating his life. Nor did he deserve happiness or peace—a matter his friends had argued against, telling him every wolf neede
d a mate.

  Easy for them to say. They hadn’t gone through what he had.

  Portia’s tool rattled against the floor. She pulled the pen flashlight from between her lips, scooted out, and gave him a wide, welcoming smile. “Hey.”

  His mouth refused to work, every word he’d known drifting away. Chestnut tresses cascaded over her shoulders, blonde streaks on each side framing her face. He would have bet his life her hair was softer than kitten fur. The green flecks in her hazel eyes were amazing. Her pouty lips looked moist, the same as they’d be after him kissing her long and deep. His balls ached. “Ah….”

  She leaned back, legs drawn up like a 1950s cheesecake drawing. Sweetly sensual. “You’re ready to do the floor?”

  He gripped his roll of linoleum. “Not until tomorrow.”

  He’d planned to drop off the material, not run into her. Doggedly, Nick had avoided Portia since she’d joined the pack, hoping out of sight would be out of mind. Yeah, right. Her scent permeated everything, teasing, enticing. Too many nights he’d awakened in a sweat, panting from his wet dreams, followed by remorse over his past sins. He placed the roll near the wall. “Didn’t know you’d be here.”

  Understanding flashed across her pretty face mingled with disappointment. She was on to him. Hell, anyone older than seven would have caught on to how he’d continually dodged her.

  He gestured to the sink. “Go on. Don’t let me bother you.”

  “You’re not.” She smiled softly, making a small dimple.

  His legs went watery. The air grew increasingly charged. Longing and lust bombarded him. He stepped back.

  “I actually hadn’t planned to be here today.” She put her wrench into a portable toolbox the Hulk would have had trouble carrying. “Thought I’d fixed this stupid thing days ago.” She inclined her head to the sink. “Derek told me it was still leaking like crazy. Not only that, but the garbage disposal cord is frayed. Don’t know how I missed something so basic. If water had gotten on it while it’d been running, someone might have been hurt. Electrocuted. It could have caught fire. Good God, they would’ve died.”

  “Hey, hey, hey, it didn’t and nobody was harmed. No reason to feel bad.” Guilt remained his old friend, and he didn’t want it hounding her. “You’ll fix it, right?”

  “The pipe’s good, again, or at least I hope it is. The rest will have to wait until morning. It’s getting too late to work with the lights off.”

  Sun streamed through the window, creating long shadows. Dust particles danced in the weakened rays. Soon, it would be dark. She had her flashlight, though, and could also unplug the disposal then turn the main switch back on to light up this place. He probably should have mentioned those alternatives, but didn’t, not wanting to sound bossy or too interested in her work.

  She packed her things and slanted him a look. “You finished for the day?”

  Thankfully. It had been a long one. His construction work on several bungalows should have exhausted him worse than a ten-mile run on two feet rather than four. Oddly, he was too alert. His heart wouldn’t stop thudding, shooting so much heat through him his tee clung to his damp chest and back. “Yeah.”

  Joy lit her features.

  He pointed behind himself. “I should be going.”

  “Me, too. Wait up and we can walk to our places together.” Hurriedly, she gathered the bedsheet, stuffing it in her toolbox. After shoving the top down and throwing the clasps, she grabbed the handle.

  “Whoa.” Nick put out his hand. “How much does that weigh?”

  “Less than you. Me too probably.”

  She couldn’t have been more than a hundred-and-twenty pounds soaking wet. Her curves were in all the right places, from her voluptuous rack to her shapely hips. She embodied every straight guy’s fantasy and appeared in Nick’s dreams most nights. “I’ll do the heavy lifting.”

  “Where were you when I needed someone to carry my purse?”

  He laughed. The thing did look like a small suitcase. He’d seen her lugging it on her way out of town, paying too much attention to her when he shouldn’t have. His unquenchable interest couldn’t lead anywhere, certainly not to mating. That and love weren’t in the cards. He wanted a simple, uncomplicated fuck to take off the edge, but wouldn’t do that to her. Any other woman—human or shifter—he considered fair game, as long as they knew the score. Not her. Never her. She deserved better than him.

  Sobering, he grabbed her toolbox, lifting it higher than necessary. The weight made his shoulders and back scream. His ego said, “Screw it, show off.” He didn’t want to examine why. “Not heavy at all.”

  To prove his lie, he swung the box back and forth.

  She leaned in. “Careful. Blood vessels are popping in your eyes. Your jugulars will be next.”

  He pressed his lips together, but his laughter still broke free. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you had a dead body in here.”

  “Nope. Only my makeup.”

  “You wear that stuff?”

  She gave him an odd look. “I’m not sure whether I should be offended or not.”

  “Sorry. What I meant to say is you don’t need it.”

  “That’s the spirit. I should help you carry that.”

  He pushed her hand away gently, and their fingers touched for a long moment. Desire jolted through him. Her skin was warmer and silkier than he’d believed possible. Her breath caught as his did. He broke free first and slogged outside, gulping soupy air. A full month from summer and already the temps were oppressive, high eighties, the humidity punishing, the heavy foliage wrapped in a steamy haze. He blinked sweat from his eyes.

  She pressed a lacy handkerchief to her forehead and throat then offered it to him.

  Nick fought an unbearable urge to lift the snowy linen to his nose to see if it smelled like her. “I shouldn’t. I don’t want to mess that up.”

  “You won’t.”

  Laughter bubbled in his throat. Several beach towels and an industrial-strength fan wouldn’t have made him less sweaty. He needed to calm down. How though, except to cave to his inner urges concerning her, or change into the beast and run, howling like a banshee or a wolf torn by lust, guilt, regret. Thankfully, no one in the pack was around to see his turmoil. Everyone remained at work or were in their cottages, enjoying a late dinner, TV, video games, wild monkey sex, whatever the hell they did.

  “Doing okay?” Portia searched his face.

  He figured veins were popping out on his forehead. “Great.”

  His legs were leaden, and the box pulled down his arm. He plodded toward their bungalows, both set apart from the others. Hers the most, flanked by moss-draped oaks and palms, the perfect lovers’ getaway. His pulse sprinted. In the increasing gloom, her cottage looked more rose than pink, the color she’d chosen for it, and possibly the same shade as her nipples and cleft.

  Shouldn’t think about that. He concentrated on the burning ache in his arm and elbow from carrying the toolbox, finally reached her porch, and glanced right, left. She wasn’t beside him.

  He hung on to the box, on the outside chance she might need it, and backtracked to where she’d stopped two houses away, her profile to him. A faint pulse beat in her long throat, begging for his mouth and tongue. He kept his distance. “What are you doing?”

  She kept sniffing and frowned. “Don’t you smell that?”

  He didn’t bother inhaling. Her fragrance seemed a permanent part of everything surrounding him. “What?”

  She strode to the vegetation, nose lifted.

  Her thighs were seamless, nothing but tanned, flawless skin.

  She pivoted. He glanced up. Her expression said she’d caught him eyeing her. Heat burned his face and scalp. Warmth poured to his groin, settling there, making him too hard, and fucking miserable. “What did you smell?”

  “I’m not sure…nothing. Thanks for carrying my stuff. How about I grill some steaks to pay you back for your muscle?”

  “No need.”

 
; She waved dismissively. “I know that. But it’d make me feel better for causing your bloodshot eyes. Face it, that baby’s heavy even for you.”

  “You think?” Teeth clenched, he hefted the box above his shoulder.

  “Careful or you’ll give yourself a hernia.” She wagged her finger. “Come on. Dinner’s the least I can do for you nearly popping an artery.”

  She jogged to her house, gesturing for him to follow. Her bouncing buttocks pulled him like metal to a magnet. Once he’d put the box inside her front door, he followed her to the backyard, more heavily vegetated than the front. Within a small clearing stood a white bench large enough for two adults or three kids, a battered barbeque grill, and a small sliver of water that ran through her property line, petering out before reaching his.

  “Before I cook our steaks, do you mind if I cool off first?” She already sat on the ground, untying and tossing her boots aside. Her adorable socks followed. She’d painted her toenails deep red and had another flower tat on her ankle.

  Nick wanted to taste it, his mouth watering.

  “Can you believe it’s so hot already?” She unhooked her overalls straps and unbuttoned each side of the garment near her hips.

  “What?”

  “It’s hot, don’t you think?”

  She leaned back, wiggled out of her overalls, and tossed them aside. Her panties were a scrap of some silky material edged in pink lace. He wouldn’t have expected any other color. “Ah….”

  She dropped her tank top on the denim. Her boobs filled her pink bra near to overflowing, the gentle mounds quivering with each movement and breath. Effortlessly, she glided the straps off her arms, unhooked the bra back, and lobbed the garment onto her growing clothes pile.