Beneath a Midnight Moon - By Amanda Ashley Page 0,13
he gently examined her right thigh. She gasped as the touch of his callused fingertips ignited their own brand of fire.
Hardane drew back, his brows rushing together in a frown. Her heavy skirt and thick petticoat seemed to have protected her delicate flesh from harm. No redness marred the ivory perfection of her skin, yet she shuddered at his touch.
“Are you in pain?” he asked.
“No,” Kylene answered, and quickly drew her petticoat and skirt down over her exposed thigh.
Hardane swore under his breath, suddenly aware of the tension that hummed between them. He had never seen a woman’s bare legs before, never realized what an impact it would have on his senses.
Kylene flushed under his probing gaze. It was hard to breathe, impossible to think, when he looked at her like that. The touch of his hand made her thigh throb with a fire that had nothing to do with scalding tea. Her heart was beating wildly.
Hardane took an abrupt step backward, then turned away from Kylene lest she see the effect her nearness had on him. By Romar’s Beard, but he was tempted to throw away all restraint, lay her down on the table, and bury himself in her sweetness. Only the oath he’d made to his mother, and the knowledge that Kylene would never forgive him, kept him from surrendering to the lust that was roaring through him with all the ferocity of a maddened beast. For the first time in his life, he realized what a powerful force desire could be. Little wonder that men left thrones and countries for the love of a woman, that they turned their backs on wealth and power. At the moment, he would gladly give all he had, all he would ever have, to take Kylene in his arms and unlock the eternally sweet mysteries of womanhood.
“Finish your meal,” Hardane said curtly, and stormed out of the room before the tiger rampaging in his blood made him do something he would forever regret.
Jared glanced up, his expression mirroring his surprise, when he saw Hardane striding toward him. It had been Hardane’s habit to spend the morning hours with the wench. In the two weeks they’d been at sea, the heir of Argone had rarely made an appearance on deck before midmorning.
“What is it?” Hardane snapped, annoyed by Jared’s probing gaze.
“Nothing, my lord,” Jared replied. “How soon will we reach home?”
“In another week, if the weather holds.” Hardane grunted softly, irritably. Another week of sleepless nights and tormented days.
He stared at the sea, thinking how pleasant it would be to dive overboard and cool his heated flesh in the chill water, to let himself sink into the sea’s all-encompassing embrace and drown his problems once and for all.
“What’s wrong?” Jared asked. “Did you have an argument with the lady?”
“No.”
Jared cocked his head to one side, a knowing grin tugging at his lips. “You want her, don’t you?”
“Of course not.”
Jared snorted. “Don’t lie to me, my friend. I’ve known you too long. She’s a comely wench, and you’re long overdue to sample a maiden’s wares.”
Hardane swore a vile oath. Was his need for the woman so obvious that everyone saw it?
Jared laid a sympathetic hand on his friend’s shoulder. “Perhaps it’s time to . . . to . . .” He cleared his throat. “There are many beautiful women in the House of Karos. All would be willing to, uh, initiate you.”
“No.”
“It’s her you want? Kylene?”
Hardane nodded, his gaze still on the sea. “Even if I could bring myself to break my oath, she’s a maiden. I couldn’t . . .”
“I’d be glad to break her in for you.”
Jared had spoken the words in jest, hoping to brighten Hardane’s bleak mood. Too late, he realized he had made a serious error. With a roar, Hardane’s hand closed around his throat, choking off his breath.
“You will not touch her,” Hardane warned in a voice as hard and implacable as iron. “I will geld any man who dares lay a hand on her. Do you understand?”
Jared nodded, knowing, in that moment, that he was as close to death as he’d ever been.
He gasped with relief when Hardane released him. For a moment, he rubbed his neck, his expression thoughtful.
“I meant no disrespect,” he said, his tone filled with the formality and deference due Hardane’s position.
“I know,” Hardane muttered, refusing to meet his friend’s eyes. “Forgive me.”
“I think it’s more than mere lust that troubles you,” Jared mused.