Filed to story: The Luna is Secret Heiress Book PDF Free by Sylvia
Her hand moved to my thigh, innocent yet devastating in its effect on me. “What would happen if you lost control, just once?”
I took a deep breath, focusing intently on the road ahead as we made our way to Riverdale Terrace. Every soft word and touch from her tested the limits of my legendary self-control.
“Please, Liv,” I said quietly. “Rest now. We’re almost home.”
To my relief, she settled back in her seat, though her amber eyes remained fixed on my profile. “You’re so beautiful,” she whispered, her voice filled with wonder. “Did you know that? The most beautiful wolf I’ve ever seen.”
Something in my chest constricted at her words. Even drunk, there was a sincerity in her voice that couldn’t be faked.
By the time we reached her apartment building, Olivia had finally succumbed to sleep. Her breathing had deepened, her head tilted slightly toward me, lips parted in peaceful slumber.
I parked and sat for a moment, just watching her. The moonlight filtering through the windows cast a silver glow on her features, highlighting the delicate curve of her cheek, the sweep of her lashes against her skin.
With infinite gentleness, I lifted her from the passenger seat and carried her inside, using the key she’d given me weeks earlier. The trust implied in that simple act of giving me access to her private space had meant more to me than she could possibly know.
Her apartment was quiet and dark as I moved through it with practiced ease, making my way to her bedroom. I carefully placed her on the bed, reluctant to let her go even as I knew I must.
For a long moment, I simply stood there, my ice-blue eyes softening as I gazed down at her peaceful face. She looked so vulnerable in sleep, so precious. My wolf howled within me, demanding that I stay, that I protect her through the night and every night thereafter.
My hand hovered over her honey-brown hair, wanting nothing more than to touch her, to stay by her side until morning. But I knew that when she woke, she would likely be mortified by her behavior tonight.
I respected her too much to take advantage of her vulnerability, even if it meant denying myself the comfort of her presence. With great reluctance, I withdrew my hand and turned away, leaving her to sleep in peace.
(Connor’s POV)
I watched Olivia sleep, her face peaceful in the soft glow of the bedside lamp. She looked so vulnerable, so different from the fiercely independent woman I knew her to be. My wolf stirred protectively within me, satisfied to have her safe under my watch.
Just as I was about to leave her bedroom, she stirred, her honey-brown hair splaying across the pillow. Her slender fingers suddenly reached out, catching my shirt sleeve with surprising strength.
“Don’t go,” she murmured, her voice thick with sleep and lingering intoxication. “Tell me a… Grey…”
I froze, ice flooding my veins. Had she just called out for Grey? Ethan Grey?
My jaw clenched involuntarily, jealousy flaring hot and sharp through my chest. After everything that man had put her through, after the way he’d treated her as a replacement for his first love, she was still calling his name in her sleep?
“Liv,” I said, my voice coming out rougher than intended. “What did you say?”
She tugged at my sleeve again, her amber eyes fluttering open briefly before closing again. “Story,” she mumbled more clearly. “Tell me a story… like when we were little…”
Relief washed through me like a physical force. Not “Grey” but a request for a story-a bedtime ritual from our childhood. I felt a smile tugging at my lips, amusement replacing the sharp sting of jealousy.
“You want a bedtime story?” I asked softly, brushing a strand of hair from her flushed cheek.
She nodded sleepily, her grip on my sleeve not loosening. “Like before…”
My heart swelled with tenderness. Even drunk, she remembered our shared past- how I’d read to her when we were young, during her visits to Riverdale.
I carefully lifted her into my arms, cradling her against my chest. Her honey-brown hair cascaded over my arm as I carried her toward the bathroom. She needed to clean up before properly going to bed.
“Con?” she murmured against my neck, her breath warm against my skin.
“I’m here,” I assured her, my voice low and soothing. “Let’s get you cleaned up first, then I’ll tell you a story.”
She nodded drowsily, her head nestling trustingly against my shoulder. The simple gesture of faith touched something deep within me, awakening every protective instinct I possessed.
The bathroom light seemed harsh after the dimness of the bedroom. I set Olivia down carefully on the closed toilet lid, keeping one hand on her shoulder to steady her as I turned on the shower.
“Can you manage?” I asked, testing the water temperature with my free hand.
She blinked up at me, her amber eyes unfocused. “Don’t think so,” she admitted with a small, embarrassed laugh.
I swallowed hard, my wolf stirring restlessly within me. This wasn’t how I’d imagined essing her for the first time, but her wellbeing came first. Always. nfinite gentleness, I helped her out of her clothes, my touch clinical and ectful despite my wolf’s possessive growls. I averted my eyes as much as possible, preserving her dignity even in her vulnerable state.
The shower was quick and efficient. I kept her steady with one arm while washing her hair with my free hand, the familiar scent of her honey-almond shampoo filling the steamy bathroom.
“You’re good at this,” she murmured as I wrapped her in a fluffy towel afterward.
“I’ve had practice,” I replied softly, thinking of the times I’d cared for pack members after injuries or during illness.
After drying her off, I helped her into clean pajamas I found in her dresser-soft cotton things with little moons printed on them. They looked adorably innocent on her, a stark contrast to the sophisticated lawyer she presented to the world.
Once she was settled back in bed, I pulled the covers up to her chin. “Now, about that story,” I said, reaching for my phone.
Her amber eyes brightened despite her drowsiness. “Really?”
I nodded, scrolling through my phone until I found a collection of short stories I’d downloaded months ago. I’d never admitted it to anyone, but I’d gotten them thinking of her, remembering how she’d loved being read to as a child.
“Once upon a time,” I began, my deep voice filling the quiet room, “there was a white wolf who lived at the edge of a great forest…”
I read until her breathing evened out, her features relaxing into peaceful slumber. Even then, I continued for a while longer, savoring this rare moment of unguarded intimacy between us.
When I was certain she was deeply asleep, I carefully set my phone aside. I couldn’t leave her alone, not when she was this vulnerable. But I also wouldn’t take advantage of the situation by sleeping beside her without her explicit consent.
WI
I called Frank Langley, keeping my voice low to avoid disturbing Olivia.
“I need you to bring my toiletries and a change of clothes to Ms. Winters’ apartment,” I instructed. “Leave them outside the door. No need to knock.”
“Right away, Alpha,” Frank replied efficiently.
While waiting, I checked that Olivia was comfortable, adjusting her blankets and making sure a glass of water and pain relievers were on her nightstand for the morning. She would need them, judging by how much she’d had to drink.
After Frank delivered my things, I took a quick shower and changed into comfortable clothes. Then, with one last look at Olivia’s peaceful form, I settled myself on the living room sofa.
It wasn’t ideal-my tall frame barely fit-but it was the honorable choice. My wolf disagreed, wanting to be closer to her, but I silenced its protests. Olivia deserved better than to wake up confused and potentially feeling taken advantage of.
As I drifted toward sleep, her drunken words echoed in my mind: “My mate.” The simple phrase filled me with a possessive satisfaction I couldn’t deny, even as I reminded myself she hadn’t been in control of her words.
Still, a man could hope.
(Olivia’s POV)
Pain. That was my first conscious thought as awareness slowly returned. My head throbbed mercilessly, each pulse sending sharp daggers behind my eyes.
I groaned softly, reluctant to open my eyes to what would surely be blinding morning light. What had happened last night? Fragments of memories swirled hazily through my mind.
The Moonlight Club. Singing-oh god, had I really been singing? Wine, so much wine.
And then…
Connor.
My eyes flew open despite the pain, panic surging through me. I remembered clinging to him, saying things-embarrassing things about relationships and commitment. Had I really called him my mate? In public?
Foints)
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