Harvest Moon – Book 4 in the Moon Series (Jason & Kilani)
Some wolves were never meant for a mate…
Dr. Jason Ayers unleashes all of his rage and his frustration through fists and brute force in an underground boxing ring. The werewolf may be the pack’s doctor, but he can’t even heal his coma-stricken father after the Nero Organization’s attack stopped his heart. And as his Pack brothers settle down around him, he still refuses to believe in the fairy tale notion that every wolf has a true mate…
In hiding and on the run, nurse Kilani Akamu is a loose end that Nero is desperate to tie up. She can’t afford to be attracted to a doctor-especially one as unexpectedly hot and complex as Jason. Yet the sexual sparks arcing between them are undeniable…and Kilani’s precognitive senses warn her that temptation is inevitable.
All it takes is one touch to send Jason’s wolf howling. But even if he could protect her from Nero, he can’t protect her from himself…
What reviewers are saying:
“…an author that knows how to do paranormal romance right.” — Rabid Reads @ NetGalley
5 Stars – “The intriguing events draw the reader into the well written scenes and details that paint vivid images that bring the story to life…” — Eva Millien @ Literary Addicts
5 Stars – “I really enjoy the author’s writing style, she paints paint fantastic pictures in the imaginations of her readers with excellent writing, superb plots and carefully crafted text.” — Splashes into Book Reviews
EXCERPT – First kiss (Kilani’s point of view)
He rested his head on top of mine and whispered, “I’m warning you now. I’m a horrible patient.”
I smiled in spite of myself and pulled back. “Of course you are. That’s why you’re a doctor.”
I closed the lid on the toilet and had him sit down so I could get a better look at his banged-up face. In the bright lights of the bathroom, it was tough not to cringe. “You have some first-aid supplies, I hope.”
He nodded. “In the medicine cabinet.”
I opened the cabinet on the wall and chuckled. “Bactine and Band-Aids? You call this a first-aid kit?” I turned around to find him shirtless, and my breath caught. Every muscle was well defined, strong, and discolored. So many bruises. “How many fights have you been in?”
“Too many.”
“Understatement of the year.” There was no way Bactine and Band-Aids could fix this. I set them on the counter beside him. “Have you had any X-rays? Your ribs are probably cracked in a few places.”
“They’re bruised, but I don’t think I have any breaks.”
There was the confident doctor god complex. I sighed, glancing around the marble counter. “Cotton balls?”
He pointed under the sink. I pulled a bag out of the cabinet and soaked one in the antiseptic. Gently, I touched it to the cut over his eye.
“Jesus.” He pushed my hand away. “That’s making it worse.”
“You are a bad patient.” I raised a brow. “If you get an infection, this could get even uglier. Better to clean it now.”
I pressed it back over the cut, ignoring his growls. By the time I finished with the contusions, he’d given up fighting me. He probably recognized in his present state I could take him. Nurses weren’t shrinking violets. And I was a damned fine nurse.
“Can I shower now?”
I inspected his face one last time, trying not to allow my gaze to linger on his lips. “I guess so. I’ll get some ice packs ready for your face and a bucket for your hands.”
He got up as I went to the door. In the reflection of the mirror, he rolled his eyes. “I don’t need ice.”
“The hell you don’t.”
Before I got out the door, a vision flashed in my head. Jason collapsing in the shower, his head bouncing off the cold tile, and blood. I spun around as he hooked his thumbs in the waistband of his shorts.
“Wait. Leave them on. I’m going to help you.”
He looked back at me, confusion in his swollen eyes. “I’m perfectly capable of showering.”
“I’m sure you are, but you probably have a concussion, so we should be careful.”
He shook his head and turned on the shower. “I don’t have a concussion, but if it’ll make you feel better…”
His words drifted off as his eyes rolled back.
“Shit.” I rushed to his side, easing his drop to the floor. There was no way I could support his dead weight, but I could keep him from hitting his head. Once he was on the floor, I wet a washcloth with cold water and sat down, lifting his head into my lap. I pressed the cool cloth to his forehead and patted his cheek, wishing I had smelling salts handy. “Jason?”
His eyes moved behind his eyelids and finally they opened. He stared up at me, disoriented at first before he reached up to take my hand from his forehead. “How? How did you know?”
“Know what?”
“About the concussion. You knew I’d fall.”
“Just a hunch.”
He sat up slowly, almost nose to nose with me. His gaze locked on mine. “You don’t have to lie to me.”
“That goes both ways.” Steam filled the room, masking the electricity zipping between us. His eyes dipped to my lips, and some idiotic part of my heart hoped he’d kiss me. Thankfully a bolt of clear thought jolted me into action. “We should get you in the shower while the water is still hot.”
He blinked and sat up, putting some distance between us. His master bath had a spacious glass shower stall and a big Jacuzzi tub in the far corner. He opened the glass door and a wall of steam billowed out. I braced him, my arm firm around his waist as he stepped inside.
“What about your clothes?”
I glanced down at my T-shirt and jeans. My only clothes I had with me. My bag was still outside in Jason’s car. But he couldn’t be trusted in a shower alone at the moment. If he passed out again…I didn’t allow myself to replay the vision of his blood washing down the drain.
“They’ve been wet before.”
“You don’t need to come in here. I’m much better now.”
“You are not. I’m coming in with you or you’re not showering.” I nudged him forward with my hip. “Stop being a baby and get in there.”
The warm water soaked through my clothes, but I hardly noticed. All my attention was focused on Jason. He was much taller than me and probably outweighed me by at least seventy-five pounds, but if he lost consciousness again, I could slow the fall and protect his head.
He tipped his head back under the water and closed his eyes. Before I could say anything, his mouth curved into a smile. “Still awake, but my eyes sting enough already without getting shampoo in them.”
I chuckled. “They wouldn’t sting if you stopped getting them punched.”
He lifted his head from the water, all his attention on me. “Thanks for helping me tonight.” His gaze wandered lower and I wondered just how see-through my wet T-shirt might be. He brought a battered hand up to my cheek, his thumb barely brushing my slick skin. “You’re so beautiful.”
My heart pounded, and I struggled to keep my body from thinking for me. “You’ve got head trauma.”
He almost smiled. “I thought you were beautiful from the moment you banged on my office door and chewed me out.”
I pressed my lips together, trying to find a safe place to focus my attention. He filled the entire shower stall, his skin clean and wet, every part of him chiseled. His gym shorts clung to a package I had no business noticing.
His finger caught my chin, lifting it until I met his gaze. “Sorry if I made you uncomfortable. I’m probably a real prize right now.”
Every bruise and swollen cut on his ruggedly handsome face only enhanced the spirit inside of him. “You’re still way too handsome for your own good.”
His legs bent, but not from a lack of consciousness. I rose up on my toes, my lips meeting his halfway. His chest rumbled as he pulled me closer. I couldn’t tell if it was a moan of passion or a groan of pain, but it didn’t slow the kiss. His mouth savored mine, lingering, tasting, until he parted my lips with his tongue. A sigh escaped my throat as the kiss deepened.
I ran my hands up his chest and around the back of his neck. He took a step forward, pushing me back against the cool wall of the shower. His erection pressed against me, but it didn’t wake me from the haze of passion, the urgency of desire. I didn’t want to think about reality, about danger, about lies, about the future.
I wanted this complicated man full of secrets and pain and wounds.
Breaking the kiss, he rested his forehead on mine as we both struggled for breath. “If I wasn’t so beat up, I’d be stripping you down and taking you right here.” He panted a couple of times, and a curl of wet hair dangled over his forehead. “But I’m pretty sure my legs’ll give out.”
Saved by weak legs. With each breath, reality encroached on the passion he’d stoked inside me.
“Yeah, we should get you in bed.”
“My thoughts exactly.”