Beneath a Midnight Moon - By Amanda Ashley Page 0,12
first vows in the Motherhouse. Instead, Hardane’s dark visage danced before her, his deep gray eyes mocking her attempt to pray.
How could she devote her life in service to others if she could not banish one man’s image from her mind? How could she take her final vows of obedience and chastity when some wayward part of her, some wicked little corner of her mind, wanted only to feel Hardane’s hands in her hair, to know the taste of his lips?
Had such sinful thoughts always been there, lurking deep in the dark corridors of her mind? And how did she banish them once and for all?
She pounded her fist on the floor, willing his image to depart and leave her in peace, but to no avail. She had no sooner managed to utter the first few words of the prayer when there was a knock at the door and she heard his familiar voice calling her name, telling her the morning meal was ready.
With a sigh, Kylene rose to her feet and opened the door. As always, she was astonished anew at how handsome he was, how tall, how broad. Shirtless, his legs encased in tight breeches, his feet shod in soft leather boots that hugged his calves, he exuded strength and power and sheer, overwhelming masculinity. For one whose only contact with the male of the species had been a gray-haired Confessor of the Sisterhood, Hardane of Argone was indeed a sight to take a woman’s breath away, to make her sinfully, painfully, happily aware of the vast difference between men and women.
“My lord,” she said, hardly able to speak the words, so intent was her gaze upon the vast expanse of his dark-furred chest and muscular shoulders.
“Are you ready to break your fast, lady?”
Kylene nodded, little tremors of pleasure skittering up her arm as he took her hand in his and led the way to the galley.
During their first few days at sea, she had eaten in Hardane’s cabin. But now that she’d gotten her sea legs, they took first meal in the galley each morning, just the two of them, though sometimes Hardane’s friend Jared joined them. Being seated between two such virile men, listening to their easy camaraderie, was almost more than she could endure. Strict silence had been observed at all meals she had shared with the Sisterhood. Idle conversation was to be avoided, just as one abstained from laughter and gluttony, greed and strong drink.
Today, they dined alone, just the two of them.
Kylene kept her gaze upon her plate, acutely aware of the man who sat across from her. She could feel him watching her, waiting for . . . for what, she didn’t know. His scrutiny, indeed, his very nearness, made her feel clumsy and ill-at-ease.
She uttered a small cry of despair as she reached for the teapot, only to have it fall from her hand. A flood of hot spiced tea spilled into her lap.
Hardane was beside her in an instant, lifting her to her feet, dabbing at the dark stain on her skirt. “Are you hurt, lady?”
“No.”
Like a child drawn to a promised reward, her gaze lifted to meet his. She felt a sudden warmth, a sweetness, as she saw the concern reflected in the depths of his clear gray eyes.
For a timeless moment, she let herself bask in the warmth of his gaze. Pleasure unfolded within her, uncurling like the bud of a flower opening to the light of the sun. Never had anyone looked upon her with such caring, such concern.
She had no memory of a mother’s love, no recollection of a father’s devotion. Always, she had been alone. Even in the abbey that housed the Sisterhood, she had been aware of a gulf between herself and the others. They had seen to her needs, provided her with nourishment and shelter, protected her from the outside world, but no one, man or woman, had ever looked at her as Hardane was looking at her now.
Lifting her onto a dry corner of the table, Hardane pushed Kylene’s skirt and petticoat out of the way, exposing long, slender legs. She wore no stockings, only calf-high leggings made of heavy black cotton.
Alarmed that he would dare to take such a liberty, Kylene batted his hands away. “What are you doing?”
“Checking to make sure you’re not burned.”
“I can do it.”
He nodded in agreement, but instead of moving out of the way, he bent to his task once again.