Finding Luna: A Lion Shifter Reverse Harem Romance (PRIDE Book 1) Read online

  Finding Luna

  PRIDE Book 1

  Becca Fanning

  Copyright © 2018 by Becca Fanning

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Created with Vellum

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Also by Becca Fanning

  Chapter 1

  Most people hate first dates.

  The truth was, Maryellen Forsythe-Drew, or El to her friends, hated them too. But on this particular occasion, she had a gut feeling.

  And that gut feeling was telling her that this date was going to be epic.

  Sure, it wasn’t the first time the gut feeling had made an appearance, and had, ultimately, let her down. Like the time she’d been certain she’d be allowed more leeway with her campaigns on one of her charities when instead the head of project development had come on to her.

  Filing for sexual harassment, and inadvertently getting the flexibility she’d wanted as a result, wasn’t how she figured gut feelings should work, but…

  “Wow, way to blow your good mood, El,” she grumbled under her breath as she took a seat at the swanky restaurant where she’d arranged to meet with her blind date.

  He wasn’t late. El was just insanely early. The need to get here, to get the ball rolling as it were, had been driving her since they’d made the damn arrangements on Thursday.

  The anticipation of waiting for Saturday had practically killed her. But she’d already had arrangements with her parents on Friday night, and though she’d have loved to have skipped that particular session in torture, the misery from breaking that date wasn’t worth it.

  Even for a date that had more potential than any other she’d had this year.

  She blew out a breath as the server appeared. It was a woman, and praying for female solidarity instead of sisterly bitchiness, she asked, “Do I look flustered?”

  The woman, a young blonde barely out of high school, blinked at her. “Ma’am?”

  “I’m about to have a first date,” El explained, her stomach rumbling with more nerves. “I was just hoping I don’t look as bright pink as I feel.”

  The server, Diana from her badge, smiled at her. “No, you don’t look pink. You look quite cute.”

  El blinked. “Really?”

  “Yeah.” Diana grinned. “I bat for your team, so you can trust me when I say that.”

  El’s mouth dropped open. Feeling more flustered now, her hands rose and fell several times on her lap before they settled on digging into her upper thighs. “Oh my God, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to impose.”

  Could she have messed that up more royally?

  Diana snorted. “Don’t be silly. I only mentioned it so you’d know when I say cute, I mean it. I can tell, you’re very nervous though.”

  “I am,” El confessed, and it felt weird to have a confessor who was at least ten years younger than her, but damn, she’d take anything she could get. “I met him on that new dating site, Pride in Love. My friends dared me to go on it and I thought it was just stupid, but then I met Ryan, and…” She blew out a long breath. “He’s like the whole package, you know?”

  Diana’s smile was warm. “I’m glad. So why if he’s the ‘whole package’ are you nervous? You should be excited!”

  “Because I’m a dork, and I don’t want to screw things up,” El admitted. “I’m already here forty minutes early…”

  Diana blinked in surprise. “Wow! That’s definitely early. Can I get you something to drink or eat to settle your nerves?”

  “I don’t normally drink,” El confessed again. “But on this occasion, I’ll have a white wine spritzer. Maybe that will calm me down. I really don’t want to mess this up.”

  “Well, you look beautiful, and you’re nice and friendly, El. I don’t see why you should be any different when Ryan comes by.”

  Something about Diana’s words before she bustled off had El sitting up straighter. The server was right.

  She was a nice woman. Easy to talk to, friendly and caring. On the outside, she wasn’t bad to look at. Her friends said she was beautiful but El knew they were just being kind—if she dropped thirty pounds, she’d be beautiful.

  As El’s mom often said, “You have such a pretty face, darling.” That wonderful compliment often came when El arrived at the family home, dressed formally as her mother required, and always feeling wanting in comparison to her stick thin sisters-in-law—a feeling her mother encouraged.

  El shrugged off the thought because if she had her parents on her mind she’d never charm Ryan.

  Even thinking about her family was enough to subdue her, and El knew that wasn’t the woman Ryan had come to know.

  Within the anonymity of the dating site, she’d allowed her natural vivacity to flow free when they’d chatted, and she wanted Ryan to meet that side of her. The uninhibited woman who could and would appear when she wasn’t being cowed by her mommy and daddy.

  Irritation flared, and she embraced it. Embraced the heat because it burned that inner core of cold that she’d created over the years as a defense mechanism.

  Spying Diana coming with her drink, El took a look around the restaurant and smiled. It was a fancy place, that was for sure.

  Bright white, it should have been cold, but huge golden orbs were suspended from the ceiling in different heights, creating a wave of sorts. The orbs were like miniature moons. All of them in assorted sizes.

  They swirled about the room, even appearing on the floor; in corners or over on the dancefloor in the center of the restaurant, which was bordered by the bright orbs.

  Tables were sectioned off for privacy with low frosted glass partitions, but the bright cerulean blue tablecloths were a spark of color in the otherwise white restaurant. Even the waitstaff wore all white.

  She looked at the doorway where the maître d’ stood. The woman was tall, close to six feet, and she was the only staff member that El could see who wore color—the same bright blue as the tablecloths. Her white starched blouse was tucked into high waist trousers, and the result was a tailored dream.

  El wished like hell she had the figure to pull off something so simple, but she was way too round for that.

  A pear when she needed to be a ruler.

  Feeling Diana’s approach, she was about to turn when she saw Ryan—immediately recognizing him from his pictures online. He didn’t come from the front door, but from a back room behind the maître d’. He stopped to talk to the woman, smiled at her as he bent over the stand, and studied the plans she kept on there.

  Just as El was wondering whether Ryan managed the restaurant or something, he kissed the maître d’s cheek.

  Bile tried and failed to gurgle around her insides, but jealousy did. It hadn’t been a sexual kiss, El tried to reason with herself. Still, seeing it hurt.

  The thought had her stiffening in her seat because she didn’t own the damn man.

  It had been a kiss on the cheek, n
ot an all-out make out session in the doorway. Friends kissed friends, right? It could be perfectly natural. Innocent, she thought frantically.

  Before the tension from her date kissing another woman could flood her, Diana appeared and popped her drink down in front of her. The server must have seen where she was looking because she half-turned and saw Ryan.

  El frowned at Diana’s reaction—the other woman dropped her tray to her side and declared, “You’re the Ryan?”

  El flushed. “Excuse me?” Mortification succeeded in turning her bright pink. What the hell was going on?

  Ryan approached the table, and now he was nearer, and not kissing cheeks with beautiful members of staff, she had to admit he was better looking in person.

  God, talk about a total understatement. Better looking? That was like saying he was handsome.

  Ryan was…

  Well, handsome wasn’t the word.

  He was a god.

  That was it.

  No other way of describing him.

  Taller than the maître d’, she knew from his profile he was six-seven. But he wore it well. He wasn’t thin and lean, but lithe and strong. His muscles were evident through his brutally tailored navy suit. It clung in all the right places and displayed a soupcon of a white silk shirt that lay flat against abs so delineated, she could see them through the fabric. He wore no tie, but he had a little pocket handkerchief… the lack of one and the presence of the other equalizing the semi-formal look.

  His hair was a blond any woman would have killed for. So many shades of gold, her own hands longed to touch the silky locks. He was tanned and bronze, and his eyes were a bright blue that seemed to scan the situation with ease.

  He had a strong Roman nose, a wide brow, lips made for kissing, and a jaw so hulking she knew from looks alone how stubborn he was.

  All in all, she felt totally underdressed and overwhelmed.

  Who was this god and why had he elected to date her?

  She gulped when he shot her a smile that made her pussy melt. Just like that.

  Jesus.

  His nostrils flared a second, but before she could freak out over whether he could smell her arousal—who could do that? No one, she desperately reassured herself—he turned to Diana and wrapped an arm around her.

  Wow, this guy was tactile.

  “You getting up to mischief, short stuff?” he asked, and El blinked at the server who immediately giggled.

  “No, Uncle Ryan. I’m being very well behaved.”

  “I guess I should ask my date to confirm that,” Ryan said brightly, those delicious baby blues scanning over her with a precision that made her cheeks pinken.

  From that one look alone, she knew she hadn’t been found wanting.

  This man, this sex god, actually found her attractive.

  Was he blind? she asked herself, then shrugged off the stupid thought.

  Jeez, she wished she’d cancelled yesterday’s dinner with her parents. They always made her question herself.

  Weeks of being around her friends, having them shore up her self-esteem, all sank into the dust after two hours with Joseph and Annabel Forsythe-Drew.

  With all eyes on her, El managed to whisper, “She’s been wonderful. Very kind and very professional.” Well, that was stretching the truth, but it wasn’t Diana’s fault El had broken the bounds of propriety to ask whether she looked flushed or not.

  Diana beamed at her, then wrinkled her nose. “Do you want another server, Uncle Ryan?”

  “No, short stuff. Just, do me a favor, okay?”

  Diana blinked at him, nodding eagerly. It was easy to see that she worshipped her uncle. “Don’t tell anyone if you overhear anything. Promise?”

  She nodded. “I promise. I wouldn’t anyway. The family’s way too up in your business as it is, and my dads are just crazy when it comes down to you.”

  Dads?

  El gulped because that hadn’t been a mistake.

  Then, she figured Diana’s parents must be two gay men and her unease fled. It had sounded like she had two… She shook her head at the silly thought.

  Ryan shot her a glance, smiled at her, then murmured to his niece, “I appreciate that, short stuff. I’ll have my usual.”

  Diana grinned and scampered off, looking every one of her barely nineteen years.

  When she’d gone, Ryan turned to her and let her have every ounce of his attention.

  Her heart started to pound when their eyes connected and everything inside her seemed to expand and contract in great dizzying waves as they stared at one another, long and hard.

  He broke the spell to reach for her hand. Lifting it to his mouth, he kissed her knuckles and whispered, “Good evening, El.”

  Her voice was ridiculously breathy as she returned, “Good evening, Ryan.”

  He released her hand after gently squeezing her fingers, then he took a seat. “I hope you don’t mind eating here. As you can see, it’s my restaurant and I have a lot of family working here.”

  “The maître d’ too?” El asked, the question burning on the tip of her tongue.

  He didn’t seem to realize there was an ulterior motive behind her question, and answered, “Cousin.” His grin was sheepish. “I have two more working behind the bar, a brother heading the kitchen, three nephews working their way up to become sous chefs, two sisters who work in admin, and a whole lot of other family from uncles to aunts who work in some part of the business.”

  “Wow! That’s great to have such a family-oriented business.”

  “You don’t think it’s nepotism?” he asked, crinkling his nose at her. His grin was rueful, and she had to smile back at him.

  “No. Of course not. It’s wonderful that you can help family out while also running what looks to be a very impressive business.”

  He shrugged. “This is my newest restaurant. I have three more up and down the coast.”

  She’d known he was wealthy; the cut of his suit alone told her that. But the ease with which he wore it spoke of a man who was accustomed to being rich… she knew that look. Her family all shared the trait.

  Only she, the black sheep, was ever ill at ease when it came to the family wealth.

  Of course, that was another sin to lay at her door. Her mother simply couldn’t understand why she’d prefer Zara to Tom Ford and was quite bucolic over her daughter’s plebeian fashion tastes.

  Or lack thereof, according to Annabel.

  With a sigh, she shrugged that particular misery away. “I didn’t realize you were so accomplished,” she told him softly.

  “It’s hard to put all that down on a profile,” Ryan confessed. “You get a lot of crazies who just want the money, you know?”

  She blinked at that. Talk about honesty! “How do you know I’m not here for your money?” she asked, curious as to how he could distinguish that from their conversations online.

  “I knew from the start. You wouldn’t do what you do if you were superficial enough for that to matter.”

  Discomfort unraveled through her. “I don’t do anything particularly important,” she said on a low whisper.

  “Working for charities isn’t particularly important?” he countered, obviously scoffing at her.

  It was all she could do. All her parents deemed suitable, as well as her morals.

  If she worked for a living, she was taking away a job from someone who needed it. Her trust fund could feed the whole damn state’s homeless population. Her getting a salaried job was just ridiculous.

  Working for charities appeased her mother’s endless need to be at the top of the social tree, and El’s only concession had been that she work for the charities of her own choosing, and without their realizing who she was.

  Of course, that had led to the sexual harassment situation which had blown that particular cover…

  Sometimes a girl just couldn’t win.

  She blew out a breath. “How honest do you want us to be tonight?” she asked, surprised by her own candor. But if th
e man had four restaurants like this, she knew he wasn’t exactly going to be digging for gold with her.

  Anyway, he wouldn’t get any.

  Her trust fund was locked up so tightly, even she had trouble getting into it.

  His head tilted to the side in a way that was pure feline. A rueful grin was her first answer, then he said, “Brutally.”

  “You want brutal honesty between us?” she asked, brows rising at that.

  He nodded. “Why not?” he asked, somewhat rhetorically she figured. Or at least, hoped.

  “My surname isn’t Drew,” she whispered, ducking her head. “It’s technically Forsythe-Drew.”

  When dead silence met her admission, she peered up at him. He looked a little surprised but more than that, he looked confused. “You were on a dating site.”

  The statement confused her. “I know.”

  “But you’re…” He frowned. “I mean, I’m just surprised that a family up there with the Rockefellers allows their daughter to go on a dating site, and then, on a date too.”

  She pursed her lips, then pointed to a table of three across the way. “They’re my security.”

  He studied the men, then his lips twitched. “I see.”

  “You find it funny?” she asked, her voice quivering.

  “I guess I do,” he admitted. “Here’s me worrying someone will want to date me for my money, and then you come along.”

  She bit her lip. “I shouldn’t have said anything.”

  “No, you should have,” he immediately countered. Leaning forward, he reached for the hand she’d placed on the table after she’d sipped at her glass for fortification. When their fingers connected, breath whooshed from her lungs. “And that’s why you had to.”

  She frowned a little. “I don’t understand what’s happening here.” This felt strange.

  So beyond odd that she wasn’t really sure what was happening. She’d never felt like this before, and though El knew that countless women said that on countless first dates, something truly different was happening between them.