Blue Moon Dragon Read online

  BLUE MOON DRAGON

  Dragon Investigators 1

  Shelley Munro

  Table of Contents

  Blue Moon Dragon

  Blurb

  Pronunciation Guide

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Curse of the Wolf

  Blurb

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Excerpt – My Scarlet Woman

  About Shelley

  Other Works by Shelley

  Copyright Page

  Blurb

  Take a walk on the dragon side!

  On her 25th birthday Emma Montrose decides it’s time to show bad boy investigator, Jack Sullivan, she’s more than an efficient secretary. She’s a woman with needs, and she wants him.

  Jack is a taniwha, a dragon shifter, who requires women to satiate the sexual demands of the beast within. Casual and nothing more is his operating procedure. Voluptuous Emma has relationship written all over her, and Jack intends to keep far, far away, especially during the coming blue moon, which will erode his restraint. Then work forces the reluctant Jack and ecstatic Emma undercover as a couple. Thrown together at a luxury resort to investigate a drugs case, pretense and reality blur generating hot sex laced with risk…

  Pronunciation Guide and Glossary

  Taniwha – a dragon from Maori mythology. Some—water dragons—live in lakes, rivers or the sea. Legend says a taniwha lives at every bend of a river. Other taniwhas are cave dwellers and have the ability to fly. Some are benevolent while others are mischievous tricksters or true villains. Taniwha is pronounced tun-ee-far.

  Hone – Maori for John, and a very common Christian name. Hone is pronounced Hon-ee.

  Pikelet – a bite-size pancake, which is often eaten for morning or afternoon tea in New Zealand and also Australia. I like mine with raspberry jam and whipped cream.

  Hokey Pokey Ice cream – vanilla ice cream filled with lumps of honeycomb.

  Morepork – a native New Zealand owl. The European settlers thought the bird’s cry sounded as if it were demanding “more pork” and the name stuck.

  Netball – a popular sport played mainly by women in New Zealand, Australia, England, South Africa and Jamaica. Two teams of seven players attempt to score the most goals during a game. The goal is similar to a basketball goal but it does not have a backboard. The ball is passed from player to player rather than bounced as in basketball. I used to play netball and held a defense position due to my height.

  Chapter One

  “Good morning, George Taniwha Investigators and Security.” Emma forced a bright smile and hoped her despondency didn’t crawl down the telephone line. Twenty-five years old today.

  Twenty-five!

  And she still hadn’t plucked up the courage to approach Jack Sullivan and ask him out on a date—despite this being the age of equal opportunity. The male in question sauntered past her desk and strode into George Taniwha’s office without giving her a second glance.

  A man to die for…

  Emma sighed and stared at the bronze nameplate on the door in frustration. So, she wasn’t the most beautiful woman in New Zealand. She was built with the word generous in mind. A large ass and a chest made to house her big heart. Or at least that was what her high school boyfriend had informed her. He’d also told her she had a nice smile and that he enjoyed being with her because she never stressed about her size. Yep, she was a normal, healthy woman—kind to animals and small children. Most people liked her, yet the wretched man ignored her existence.

  “Are you there, young lady?”

  The querulous voice jerked Emma from her grievances re the lack of sex life back to her phone call. “I’m sorry. I had to sign for a courier parcel,” she fibbed. “How can I help you?”

  “My name is Elisa Denning. I need the services of a private investigator. Someone is stealing my prize rose blooms. Right before the flower show too. It’s disgraceful. That’s what it is.”

  “Let me take some details, then I’ll arrange for an investigator to come and see you. Address? Telephone number?” Emma jotted down the woman’s particulars, an imp inside her laughing as she imagined George assigning this case. None of the men would appreciate chasing a rose thief. George Taniwha’s operatives preferred the dangerous stuff that challenged them and proved they were men.

  Her humor died, replaced by a frown that drew her brows together. That was another thing she wanted to change. She’d passed all her private investigator exams. George had promised she’d be able to take on cases soon. Perhaps this one. Never let anyone say Emma Montrose didn’t have ambition.

  “When can I expect someone?” the elderly lady questioned. “I’m sure it’s Mrs. Gibb’s grandson, but the police won’t do anything.”

  “An investigator will contact you tomorrow morning, Mrs. Denning.”

  “Excellent. Tomorrow is my baking day. I’ll make them a cup of tea once they arrive.”

  Emma couldn’t restrain a grin as a vision of one of George’s tough he-man investigators drinking tea from a bone china cup popped into her mind. “I’m sure they’ll enjoy refreshments. Thanks, Mrs. Denning.” She disconnected and transcribed two proposals for prospective clients while she waited for Jack to leave George’s office. She was smitten enough to want to gaze her fill as he departed since he had a truly fine butt.

  The hands of the clock moved at the pace of a sick snail, and still Jack remained in George’s inner sanctum. Reluctantly, Emma stood and packed up for the day. She grabbed her bag and couldn’t prevent a glance at the closed door, searching for the tall, dark-haired man of her dreams.

  Oh, yeah. No doubt about it. She was a sad, sad woman.

  * * * * *

  “I have a case for you,” George said.

  Something in his boss’s tone, the watchful air in his sharp brown gaze made Jack cautious. “Yeah?”

  “Sports-enhancing drugs. Rumor says there’s a ring operating out of the Mahoney Resort on Waiheke Island in the Hauraki Gulf. I want you check it out.”

  “And?” Jack’s gut told him there was more to the story. The twitch of George’s lips confirmed his suspicions.

  “I’ve assigned you a partner.”

  Jack straightened from his casual sprawl against the wall, his eyes narrowing on his middle-age boss. “I work alone. I don’t work with a partner.” His last one had died. Horribly. And he lived with that guilt. He wasn’t damn well repeating the hellish experience.

  “You can’t do this job alone.”

  “Why not?” Jack demanded. “I’ve managed every other assignment on my own.”

  George leaned back in his chair, steepling his fingers and looking over the top in a thoughtful manner. While he appeared relaxed, Jack knew George would give him a tough battle should they ever decide to go the physical route during a disagreement. “This one might be a little difficult. Reuben J. Mahoney is a slippery character.” The chair squeaked a protest each time the big man shifted his weight.

  “I can handle anything he throws at me.”

  George glanced at the calendar pinned on the wall then cast his attention back to Jack. “There’s a blue moon coming up. It might fall prior to the end of the case.”

  Jack filled in the blanks. The blue moon would erode his powers and make it difficult to retain his human form. Without constant sexual stimulation, he’d shift into a taniwha, the legendary dragon from Maori mythology. Jack snorted at the thought of being trapped in taniwha form in the middle of a mission. It had happened t
o other shifters on George Taniwha’s staff but not to him. He imagined the pandemonium if he transformed in the middle of the bustling resort. A disdainful snort emerged.

  Little did New Zealanders know, but the species taniwha survived and lived among them. Jack didn’t intend to be the first taniwha to make headlines in the New Zealand Herald. No way. No how. If he had to find a woman to keep the monster at bay, then that was what he’d do.

  “Okay,” he conceded. “I guess a partner might help. Who’s available? Hone? Billy?”

  George issued a choking sound, merriment dancing across his lined face as he stuck his big-booted feet on his desk.

  “What’s so goddamn amusing?” Jack ground out.

  Another chortle exploded from George.

  Jack paced the length of the room, trying to combat the thrum of agitation working through his system. He paused to stare out the window, his mind taking in the yachts that zigzagged across blue waters of Auckland Harbor. Finally, he turned away and stalked back to drop into the chair opposite George. He kept his expression neutral despite the amusement still simmering across his boss’s face. “You’d better let me in on the joke.”

  “You can partner up with Hone or Billy, if you want, but you might want to consider the special circumstances.”

  “What circumstances?” Hell, he had a hot date with Melissa tonight. Good, sweaty, no-strings sex. He didn’t have time for this crap. “Either Hone or Billy. I’m not fussy.”

  “Reuben J. Mahoney runs a couples’ resort. I’m assigning you a female partner.”

  “A female— No.”

  “I guess you can take Hone. Or Billy,” George mused. “Of course, you’d have to share a room. And a bed.” He shook his grizzled head. “Two taniwha in the same space. Add in a blue moon and things might get a mite ugly.”

  Fuck. Jack sent a hard glare at his boss. Trapped as neat as an eel in a net. Jack shuffled through the range of possibilities and came up blank. “Who is she?”

  “A new operative.”

  Great. Just bloody great. Not only was he forced to take a female partner, he was getting a raw beginner. Jack didn’t trust himself to speak so he firmed his mouth, folded his arms across his chest and scowled his displeasure.

  “I’m teaming you with Emma Montrose.”

  “Your secretary?” Jack heard disbelief in his voice but thought he managed to keep his panic to himself. What the hell did a secretary know about investigating a case? What about the danger? To both of them. They would have to share a room, for God’s sake. Jack refused to let his mind dwell on Emma’s sexy legs…or the rest of her curvy form.

  “Emma’s capable of assisting you on this case.”

  “Assign me another case.” Spending time alone with Emma was enough to give any hot-blooded male ideas. Jack wasn’t interested in anything but sex. No relationships for him. Been there. Done that. Chucked away the T-shirt.

  Nope. It was best he kept well away from the very curvy, brown-haired Emma Montrose. Every time he came into the office, her big blue eyes trailed after him like a pet dog expecting a treat, except instinct told him she had more in mind than stroking or petting. That was part of what caused his edginess whenever he was in her presence. A woman of Emma’s caliber craved happily-ever-after.

  Not his goal. Not anymore.

  Some of the taniwha shifters—George, for example—were happily married, but finding a woman comfortable with her man turning into a dragon wasn’t easy. It was a rare female who coped with the idea that her children might carry the taniwha gene. Or might not, depending on fate. The peculiarities of the taniwha species had rattled his ex-lover. She hadn’t been able to cope with his ugly appearance and had run despite his assurances she would always remain human. He hadn’t even reached the part about taniwha living longer—around thirty years longer—than the average human before his lover had run. Too late to tell her the benefit would extend to her.

  “Did you say share a room?” Jack ignored the interested twitch from his cock.

  “And a bed. But if you don’t think you can act as part of a couple with Emma, I’ll send Hone. He’s due off assignment tomorrow.”

  Jack considered that for all of two seconds. He’d seen the way Hone looked at Emma. “I’ll do it,” he said, even though deep in his gut, he knew he’d regret this decision. “Give me the details.”

  * * * * *

  The next morning, Emma marched into the offices of George Taniwha Investigators and Security, a woman on a mission. After spending her twenty-fifth birthday with her girlfriends and not one suitable male candidate in sight, she’d made a resolution. With the help of her tipsy friends, she’d decided to go for broke.

  Get Jack Sullivan to notice her or bust.

  A smile—was that too much to ask? No, dammit, it wasn’t, and that would be just the start. She intended to progress from there—from a smile and good morning to down-and-dirty sex. Her breasts tingled at the thought and a swooping sensation spiraled to her lower belly. Of course, she wouldn’t go as far as stalking, but she wasn’t going to act the shy little wallflower either.

  Emma Montrose was coming out of the shade and going after the man she wanted. She intended to channel the fictional taniwha on George Taniwha Investigators and Security’s letterhead—formidable and determined, ready to scare Jack into thinking her way. By the time she was finished, he’d know of her interest. Then, he could take the next step.

  She drew herself up.

  No. That wasn’t right.

  She refused to let him slide from her sights without a fight. She’d take the second and third steps and as many other steps as the situation required.

  Emma pushed aside several possible scenarios, concentrating on and visualizing the one she wanted. A secret smile curled across her lips as she fluffed her short curly hair.

  Two lovers.

  Emma and Jack.

  Horizontal dancing.

  Heat seeped into her cheeks. Emma yanked out her office wheelie chair, plonked down her butt and grabbed up a pile of envelopes off the desk to fan her face. This brave new Emma might embarrass her a little, but she’d try to keep up.

  The front door of the office opened, and she straightened abruptly, her spine hitting the back of the chair. Well. No time like the present to put her plan into action.

  Emma put her best receptionist manner into practice and flashed a smile. “Good morning, Jack.”

  The man froze in a possum-in-headlights pose, giving Emma the opportunity to look her fill. He was tall and built with a rower’s powerful shoulders, slim hips and a butt that her fingers itched to grope. His hair was shiny black, halfway between short and long and in need of a cut, making her fingers itch to smooth the messy strands away from his face. A dreamy sigh squeezed past her lips. Blessed with sun-kissed skin, no matter what the season, she often fantasized about his appearance beneath the layers of clothing. Did the gorgeous olive tones—a legacy from his Maori ancestors—extend all over his body? Hopefully she’d sit in a position of knowledge soon.

  “Morning.”

  The word came out as a grunt, but it was an improvement on his usual silence or what she called the office furniture treatment. She forced away a surge of nerves and looked him straight in the eye. “Are you here to see George?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Okay.” Emma’s breath caught, her lungs filling with his seductive scent—something that reminded her of the mystical Orient with hints of orange and patchouli and a healthy dose of masculine musk. She stared, and the act of holding his gaze propelled heat across her skin. A hot fiery surge of self-conscious emotion.

  Dangerous.

  Crazy.

  A challenge to her goal.

  She sucked in a deep breath and puffed it back out again. The sight of his gorgeous masculine attributes made a woman imagine skin-to-skin contact. That big, strong form moving against hers, thrusting deep into her pussy, callused hands fondling her breasts, fingers plucking at her nipples. A sensuous shiv
er swept her and arousal soaked her panties without warning.

  She gulped and licked suddenly dry lips. All that from merely passing pleasantries. What would happen if they were naked? Together?

  Get a grip, she thought sternly as her hormones danced a frenzied jitterbug. A cough cleared her throat. “I’ll let him know you’re here.”

  Hmmm. Not bad for the first time. She’d improve with the next meeting.

  “I don’t mind waiting.”

  Emma felt her eyes grow round. Huh? What was wrong with this picture?

  Jack closed the distance between them and used his forefinger to tap her under the chin. Her heart stuttered in a mad gallop. She gasped, jerking from his touch in outright shock.

  The door from the street burst open, and George bounded inside followed by his son, Hone. “Ah, you’re here, Jack. I thought you might change your mind.”

  “No,” Jack snapped, glaring at Hone.

  Hone ignored Jack’s scowl and sauntered across the office to stop beside Emma. “Hello, sweetheart.” He hauled her from her chair and wrapped her in a breath-stealing bear hug.

  “Put her down,” Jack growled.

  “But I haven’t seen her for a week.” Hone nuzzled her neck and Emma giggled. “She’s my girl.”

  “Don’t you have a case to solve?” Jack looked as if he wanted to punch his friend.

  Not in the least perturbed by his buddy’s bad temper, Hone parked his butt on the corner of her desk and flashed a sexy grin. Emma sighed as she peeked through lowered lashes at Jack’s surly face. Why couldn’t she fall for Hone instead of grumpy Jack? It was a mystery, all right. Although Hone made her smile and was easy on the eye, he didn’t affect her heart rate in the slightest.

  Not like Jack.

  George shook his head. “Hone, I want you to check into a case that came in yesterday. Mrs. Denning has a thief she needs to flush out. Emma can give you the details. Jack, I want to go over a few details regarding the case we discussed yesterday.” He strode toward his office but paused in the doorway. “Emma, I need to see you in my office once you’re finished with Hone.”

  Bother. She’d hoped George might let her gain some practical experience with Mrs. Denning’s case. Obviously not. She scowled and decided it was time to remind George of his promise.