Page 2 of Taken by Moonlight
My stomach did little flip flops as I ground to a halt. The delicious scent of spices and leather teased my senses. Sweat trickled down my backside, banding in the waistband of myjeans.
“Hello Mr.Carrington.”
One did not hurry past Dante Carrington, alpha wolf of a pack sixty miles north of Cheyenne. Not if one wished to get fired for ignoring the greeting of the club’s wealthiest, and most important,patron.
Dante Carrington. Black hair clipped short, except for the silky hank that hung over his forehead. Eyes dark as night, his facial features handsome and perfect. In his dinner dress, he looked good enough tolick.
Downgirl.
Owner of the Bar B Q ranch, also known in were circles as Dante’s Inferno for the excellent cookouts they held each summer. He started coming to the club a yearago.
To his right sat Alexander Smith. Gabriel Sharp sat across from Dante. Both were Dante’s betas in the pack, his close friends. Like the others in the lounge, they wore black silk tuxedos, but they looked elegant and refined. Even the rougher Gabriel, who preferred biker boots and black leather while riding hisHarley.
The auras of all three glowed a calm blue. Weres usually had blue auras, except when they were sexually aroused, and then they flaredcrimson.
“Mr. Smith. Mr. Sharp.” I kept my voice even and friendly, though inside I shook a little. This trio had that effect on me. They oozed masculine power and strength, andsexuality.
Three different males, all different, and all intriguing andhandsome.
“Peyton please. How many times have we told you to call us by our first names? No formality needed,” Dante gentlychided.
Alexander lifted a hand in greeting, his dark eyes framed by round glasses. Lean and tall, he had curly black hair spilling down to his shoulders and reminded me a little of Jon Snow fromGame of Thrones. Alex was smart andshy.
Shifters are physically stronger and healthier than humans. I always suspected Alex wore glasses to hide himself, not because of a defect with hiseyesight.
Bad boy Gabriel gave a toothy grin. A short-cropped brown beard covered his lower face, and the black silk jacket hid a body lined with sinew and muscle. Gabriel was the largest of the trio, standing more than six feet, five inches tall with thick muscles and a shock of brown hair streaked gold tumbling down past his broadshoulders.
Thick, dark brows arched over blue eyes that suggested he liked to party hard, but I’d seen those eyes flash with tenderness when he’d wistfully mentioned how much he adored children. I’d also seen them turn stormy when he bristled with rage when someone tried to abuse one of thegirls.
No formality? I gave a pointed look at their dinner jackets. “Then why the fancyduds?”
They all chuckled. Dante lifted his glass. “Touché.”
“Not quite so fancy.” Gabriel stuck out a foot covered in black DocMartens.
Grinning, I showed him my pair – covered with little colorful flowers. Gabriel fist bumpedme.
“How are you, Peyton?” Gabriel asked. “We were hoping you’d show uptonight.”
“Peyton Jackson. Our favorite waitress,” Alexander’s smile put me at ease. Usually he was so quiet, you barely knew he was there. I always sensed something deep about Alexander, as if he were a wounded were hiding a secret. Such a sensitivesoul.
Still, one had to be mindful these were shifters. With fangs and claws. Never let down your guard aroundshifters.
“Yes, you always serve us well. We appreciate it,” Danterumbled.
None of them ever tried to cop a feel or made crude jokes or hassled me. Always polite and friendly, Dante and his friends always tipped well, even when the bill wassmall.
I liked talking with them. Over the past six weeks, we’d gotten to hanging out as the club closed. They insisted on walking me to my ancient car so I’d feel safe and Dante even threw a drunk werewolf out the door whose aura warned me he wastrouble.
After that incident, Dante had given me a quick session on getting to know shifters better, how to tell their moods and when their magick flared. I really appreciated his insight. Most of my knowledge of shifters and auras came from an old magick book I’d studied in order to get the clubjob.
I pulled too hard on my purse. The strap broke and the bag tumbled to the floor, disgorging its content like a club patron heaving after one too many bourbonshots.
“Damn,” I muttered. “Now I’m really going to belate.”
On my knees, I scrambled to gather my things. Lipstick, compact, hairbrush… my hands trembled a little. Norm was going to kill me for being this tardy. Well, not really killme.
Ihoped.
