Deeper than the Night - By Amanda Ashley Page 0,33
be here for several days; weeks, perhaps. She couldn't contact Gail or Nana. She'd surely lose her job.
Standing there, it was hard to believe anyone wanted to do her harm. Easier to believe that Alexander had kidnapped her and brought her to this strange place for his own ends. She waited for some sense of fear, of terror, but none came. Instead, a creeping warmth spread through her as she thought of spending her days and nights here, alone, with Alexander Claybourne.
She remembered the nights he had met her in her grandmother's backyard. His kisses had been more potent than her grandfather's Irish whiskey, his voice husky with suppressed longing. The attraction that had sizzled between them had been dampened by Dale Barrett's attempt to hospitalize her, butit hadn't dissipated, not completely. It was still there, simmering beneath the surface.
Her stomach fluttered as she undressed, then slipped into the floor-length baby-blue nightgown Alexander had bought her. She smoothed her hands over the silky material, wondering what he would think if she went to his room and slid under the covers beside him.
It was a pleasant fantasy and she dwelled on it for several minutes before extinguishing the lamp and crawling into bed. The blanket smelled faintly of Alexander. She ran her hand over the pillow, imagining him lying there beside her, his big body sheltering hers.
Sleep was a long time coming.
Alexander paced the floor, his muscles taut as he pictured Kara in his room, lying in his bed, her head on his pillow. He had not stayed here for any length of time in years. Long ago, it had been his haven, a place of refuge, of safety. Now he came here only on rare occasions.
He prowled the room for several minutes, then wandered down the corridor. Pausing at Kara's room, he pressedhis ear to the door, comforted by the soft, steady sound of her breathing.
Whirling away from the door, he went outside and stood on the ledge that overlooked the fertile valley below. Lifting his arms overhead, his face turned up to the night sky, he absorbed the moon's pale silver light as another might bask in the golden glow of the sun.
Seconds lengthened into minutes. Eyes closed, he drew the moon's energy deep within the core of his being. The coolness of the light rejuvenated him; the faint whisper of the wind as it blew over the mountaintop filled him with a sense of peace. Of home . . .
Alexander swore softly. Why had he thought that? He had not thought of home in years. Now, a flood of memories spilled into his mind recollections best forgotten, remembrances that could, after all these years, still cause him pain.
AnnaMara . . . AnTares . . .
Their names whispered through the corridors of his mind like the breeze filtering through the leaves of the trees. His arms felt suddenly heavy and he lowered them to his sides.
So many years had passed since he had last seen his home. So many years since he had last seen the dark mountains that surrounded the city where he had been born, their jagged peaks like the teeth of a sloe-eyed boar. He could almost hear the distant rumble of thunder as one of ErAdona's many dry storms passed overhead. And, if he closed his eyes, he could almost hear AnnaMara humming softly as she worked in the garden. Sweet, gentle AnnaMara . . .
"Alexander?"
With a start, he whirled around to find Kara standing in the moonlight. Clad in a long blue gown, she looked like a goddess bathed in quicksilver and shadow.
"Did you need something?" he asked.
"I had a bad dream and I . . . When I looked for you, you were gone."
"I was just getting somefresh air." He saw the curiosity in her eyes and wondered if she would put her question into words.
She hesitated for the space of a heartbeat. "Why were you standing in the moonlight like that?" For a moment, it had looked as though he had been absorbing the essence of the moonlight into his body, but that was ridiculous.
"Like what?"
"I don't know. Almost like you were . . ." She shrugged. "I don't know. It looked pagan, somehow."
"Indeed? Are you afraid I might be planning to sacrifice you to some heathen god?"
"Of course not." In spite of her bold words, she took a step backward, folding her arms over her breasts in a protective gesture that was as old as time.