His silhouette stirred. She caught the brief glimpse of
a muscular arm before the shadows closed in again. A
difficult request when the moon rides high.
So it would seem. She arched her back, stretching her
arms skywards. The emotive swirl of his thoughts became
a wall of heat. He wanted her, of that she was certain.
Whether he would take her was unclear. He hadn’t yet
moved from his dark hideaway.
Perhaps I should go home. The moon, it seems, offers
me no comfort tonight.
He hesitated. Perhaps we should talk on the matter.
The bait had been taken. Now to snare him fully. But
the elation that ran through her was tempered by the
knowledge that true victory would mean spending the rest
of the week in this man’s bed. But it was a small price to
pay when her sister’s life hung in the balance.
She considered him a moment longer, not wanting to
seem too eager. You are little more than a shadow to me. I
cannot discuss possibilities with someone I cannot see.
The French window opened, and he stepped out onto
the balcony. Her heart slammed into the wall of her chest,
then it seemed to drop somewhere in the vicinity of her
toes.
He was tall, close to six foot, if not over, his build
quietly powerful, but lean like an athlete’s. His hair was
dark and long, full of unruly waves that brushed his
shoulders. His face was that of a dark angel’s—beautiful,
and yet somehow sinister. And while it may have been
true that the eyes were the mirror of the soul, this man’s
were shuttered and painted black. There was nothing to
be read in his expression—or the lack of it. If not for the
sensation of hunger that burned between them, she would
have thought him uninterested.
Do you like what you see?
She gave a disinterested shrug. Looks are not the
measure of the man. Even though this man’s looks were
stirring her in ways no man ever had before.
A wise statement for one so young.
She raised her eyebrows, a smile teasing her lips. And
that is a very condescending statement from one so young.
Amusement touched his sensual mouth. He crossed
his arms and continued to regard her in that disinterested
yet oddly disturbing manner of his.
I have squeezed many years of living into this young
body, believe me.
So his reputation had suggested. Had she any other
choice, she would have stayed far away from this particular
wolf and his wild, hungry ways. But he was the only
Sinclair the rangers did not have under suspicion and,
therefore, her safest route into the Sinclair stronghold.
Ah. Then perhaps you have little interest in one less
well travelled. She picked up her gown and pulled it on.
The sheer material clung to her damp breasts and caressed
her aching nipples. Again his need swam around her, a
blanket that smothered, leaving her breathless.
I did not say that.
No. She hesitated and stepped free of the water, then
raised her gaze challengingly to his. I intend to leave. But
if you can find me before I depart these grounds, we
shall...talk...more on this matter.
She turned around and walked away, not looking back.
Yet his gaze burned into her back as surely as his hunger
sent a fever blistering across her skin. He would come for
her, she was sure of that.
Now all she had to do was pray she could hold his
attention for more than just this night.
***
Duncan Sinclair moved through the crowd, silent as a
shadow. Unnoticed, unseen. The music pounded through
his veins, a heavy, throbbing beat that matched the need
in him.
He’d had no intention of joining the dance tonight.
He’d wanted nothing more than to complete his task here
and leave as quickly as possible. But his intentions had
flown out the window the minute he heard the wanton,
wistful thoughts of the female.
He let his gaze roam the darkness. There was still a
wealth of unclaimed women ready for the taking, but most
of them were long-time participants of the dance, as jaded
as the night itself.
Not so the wolf who’d played in the fountain outside
his rooms. There was a freshness about her, a vibrancy,
which suggested she was very new to the mansion and
the dance.
She was here somewhere. He could sense her. She
was a teasing hint of sunshine in the darkness, a caress
of warm shyness that taunted the outer edges of his mind.
He wanted her. God, how he wanted her.
He continued on through the crowd and made his way
out the rear doors. The night breeze rifled cool fingers
through his hair, but it failed to ease the fever pulsing
through his body.
She was close. The musky scent of femininity stirred
the air, mixed with the gentle tang of jasmine. He walked
through the strand of Aspens that divided this section of
the house from the main gardens, his strides long, eating
the ground. If she was indeed leaving, she would have do
so through one of three gates. The closest gate to his room
lay behind the summer house. He made his way past the
grand old pavilion, but her scent didn’t linger near the
gates. She hadn’t come this far yet.
He backtracked to the summer house and there he
found her. Stopping in the shadow-filled pavilion, he once
again drank in the sight of her. She was small and
delicately built—not what he usually chased, that was for
sure. Her hair was a silky wave that brushed her hips,
and deep gold in color. She still wore the mansion’s gown,
and the gossamer fine material hid little. He hungrily
surveyed the lean length of her, from the proud thrust of
her breasts to the dark gold triangle of hair between her
thighs, then down the long length of her legs to her toes
and back up again.
Her mask was heavily ornate and hid most of her
features. But even from where he stood, he could see her
eyes. They were the green of a newborn leaf, rich and exotic.
The heat in his loins became an ache that almost
consumed him. He had to have her. Now.
He moved out of the shadows. Uncertainty flickered
in her beautiful eyes, then she came towards him. Her
gaze boldly traveled the length of his body, seeming to
linger on the hard evidence of his excitement before finally
rising again to his face. Her nipples were puckered,
straining against the gossamer restraints of her gown,
evidence of the desire he could clearly smell.
She entered the pavilion and stopped in front of him.
The musky scent of her desire grew stronger, fueling the
already raging need in him. But he wasn’t the only one
aching with the needs of the night and the moon.
“So you found me.”
Her voice was huskier than before, but still as smooth
as silk, as rich as velvet. Despite
the heat that surged
between them, her gaze was cool. Wary.
“Yes.”
He touched her cheek, running his fingers down to
the warm fullness of her lips. She trembled under his
caress, but didn’t back away.
“So you wish to discuss the matter further?” she asked.
“No. What I wish is to dance with you.”
The words were little more than a formality. She’d
basically consented to his advances back there in the
fountain.
Panic flitted through her eyes, making him wonder
just how new she was to the mansion and its ways.
Certainly he’d never seen her here before, but he’d been
away for nearly ten years.
She swallowed convulsively. “Indeed?”
He moved his hand down the long line of her neck.
Her pulse was a wild flutter under his fingertips. “Indeed.”
“And what of my desire for a more lingering seduction
once the initial fire had gone?”
He let his hand drift down to her breasts and gently
rubbed one firm nub through the film of her dress. She
shivered, her lips parting a little, as if she couldn’t suck
in enough air.
“I think that could be arranged.”
She closed her eyes briefly. “One night holds no interest
for me this phase.”
“But you have not yet tried the goods and cannot say
whether one night or more will be enough.” He leaned
close, his mouth capturing hers, gently demanding.
For the briefest of moments, she froze, her lips hard
and unyielding under his. Then she sighed and seemed to
melt toward him, deepening the kiss, opening her mouth,
letting him explore more fully.
Heat shivered through his soul, and the urgency
increased tenfold. He wanted her as he’d wanted no other
in his life, and the effort of holding back, of not taking her
right then and there, had every muscle trembling.
But she had yet to say yes. Until she did, he couldn’t
fully take her. There were rules, even here in this mansion
some called a den of debauchery.
He slid his hand down her waist and found the slit in
her skirt. Touched the silk of her thigh and worked
upwards. He cupped the triangle of her curls then gently
delved her moist heat.
Her moan shuddered through him, testing his
strength, his will. He delved deeper, sliding through her
slickness, until her muscles pulsed around one finger,
then two. She pressed against him, riding his hand with
increasing urgency. Her skin was feverish, flushed with
desire and need.
A need he understood only too well.
She grabbed his shoulders, fingers trembling, nails
digging deep.
“By the moon.” Her voice was little more than a
fractured whisper. “Please...”
Her plea raged across his senses, almost destroying
his control. Yet at the same time, an oddly primeval sense
of power surged through him. She was his for the taking,
whether she’d admitted it yet or not.
He stroked harder, faster. Her body shuddered against
his, her skin glossy with perspiration. He kissed her ear,
ran his tongue down the long line of her neck. She tasted
of honey, desire and sunshine—and he knew then she
was a wolf who played in the daylight more often than
moonlight. They lived in two different worlds, but right
then, he didn’t care. She’d stepped into his realm, and he
intended to take every advantage of it.
He took a nipple into his mouth, sucking hard through
the gossamer material. Her shuddering reached a
crescendo, and her cry of pleasure sang through the night.
A wave of primitive power surged through him, yet he knew
he could take her higher, deeper, than what she’d yet
tasted.
He slid his fingers free of her and began undoing the
ties of her gown. Her eyes, darkened by a mix of pleasure
and surprise, flew open.
“Dance with me.” The ancient yet formal words of
binding slipped hastily off his tongue, his voice little more
than a hoarse whisper. “Let your body join with mine and
rejoice in the power of the divine light.”
He slid the gown from her shoulders and let it fall to
the ground. Her skin was pale gold silk and glowed softly
in the darkness. Her breathing was quick, sharp, every
intake seeming to shudder through her entire body.
He pushed her back until she was trapped between
the wall of the pavilion and him. The heat of her washed
across his senses, and the wild beat of her heart was a
siren’s song that fueled his urgency to greater heights. It
was all he could do to simply stand there, his body pressed
hard against hers, seeking and yet not entering.
“This night,” he continued raggedly. “And the
remaining nights of this phase.”
An odd mix of apprehension and elation ran through
her eyes. She took a deep breath, then released it in a
shudder. “This night,” she whispered. “And the remaining
nights.”
Mine. With savage exaltation he surged into her.
Groaned in bliss as her muscles contracted against him.
God, was there a sweeter sensation on this earth? He slid
his hands down her hips and cupped her buttocks. “Wrap
your legs around me.”
His demand was little more than a growl, but she
seemed to understand him. Her legs wrapped around his
waist, and her arms slipped around his neck. His
movements became hard, fast. Hot flesh slapped against
hot flesh. There was nothing gentle about this mating.
Couldn’t be, with the heat of the moon riding them both
so fiercely. Gentleness would come later, once the initial
urgency had gone.
He claimed her mouth, kissing her ferociously.
Passionately. Their tongues dueled, explored, the rhythm
echoing the thrusting of his hips.
The red tide rose, becoming a wall of pleasure he could
not deny. His movements quickened. Deepened. Her gasps
reached a second crescendo, and her cries echoed across
the silence as her body bucked against his. He came—a
hot, torrential release whose force tore a shout from his
lips and sent his body rigid.
He couldn’t say how long they stood there like that,
bodies locked together, the night air gradually cooling their
fever-kissed skin. It could have been minutes, or it could
have been hours.
It could have lasted an eternity, and he wouldn’t have
cared.
He breathed in the scent of her—the sweet flowery
tang of jasmine mingled with the more evocative musk of
femininity and sex. He couldn’t remember a time when
he’d felt more satisfied, more fulfilled. And yet there was
so much more to come. This delicate beauty had agreed
to be his, not only tonight, but for the remainder of the
week. They had the time to explore each other more fully.
It was a thought that sent a jolt of primitive pleasure
coursing
through his veins.
He kissed the pulse point in her neck. Felt the still
erratic flutter under his lips.
“Do you have a name?”
It was a question he had no right to ask. No names,
no faces. Those were the rules set by his ancestors long
ago, rules he’d abided by up until now. But if she was
new to this place, she might not be aware of them. There
was something about this woman that intrigued him in a
way no other had, and he had no intention of simply letting
her walk away in the morning without some means of
finding her should she decide not to return. Not after he’d
sampled the delights she had to offer.
Tension crept through her limbs. She was still
trembling, but he couldn’t say whether its cause was his
closeness or something else.
“Neva.” Her breath whispered past his ear, a heated
touch that stirred barely sated embers. “Yours?”
“Duncan.”
She unwrapped her legs from his waist, and he
carefully lowered her to the ground. Though her gaze met
his without qualms, the rush of color through her pale
cheeks suggested she was not as bold as she was making
out.
She tucked silken wisps of gold behind her ears. “Do
you come here often?”
“Not recently. You?”
“My first time.” Reluctance filled her voice, and the
red bloom in her cheeks grew. “I wasn’t sure if I was doing
the right thing or not.”
He was glad she’d taken the chance. Glad it was he
who’d heard her wistful thoughts. He touched a hand to
her cheek. “And now?”
A smile teased her lips. “I’m more uncertain than ever.”
“Then I shall endeavor to prove your decision to come
here was no mistake.” He leaned forward, needing to taste
her again.
Her eyes widened slightly, and her uncertainty surged,
crowding his mind. Despite her promises, she still wasn’t
sure about him. Not that it really mattered now. While it
was a female’s right to pick and choose as she pleased,
once she had said yes to mating, the male had the right to
enforce it. And he would do so, if that’s what it took to
keep her by his side these next few nights.
Her mouth was warm and sweet under his, and as the
kiss deepened, the moon’s heat began to burn through
his veins again. But this time, he would take his time,
Arthur, Keri - Beneath a Rising Moon.txt Page 2
