Beneath a Midnight Moon - By Amanda Ashley Page 0,16

it if you didn’t tell anybody what I’ve told you.”

“Why? Isn’t it common knowledge?”

“No. There are rumors that I have the power, but only my family—and now you—have ever seen me do it.”

She wondered about those “few others”; wondered if they were still alive to tell the tale.

“Do I have your word, lady?”

Kylene nodded, more intrigued by the man than ever before. She studied him for a long moment, the turbulent sea and the intricacies of shape shifting forgotten as her gaze moved over him, lingering on his broad chest, the width of his shoulders, his flat, muscular stomach and long legs.

Hardane frowned, wondering what she was thinking, until he looked into her eyes. And then he smiled. She might be an innocent, she might be promised to the Sisterhood, but she was still a woman, with a woman’s desires, a woman’s hungers.

For a moment, he contemplated climbing into the bunk beside her, taking her into his arms. She probably didn’t even realize that her eyes were burning with a sweet, hungry flame, a flame he would be only too glad to extinguish. He imagined her lying beneath him, her hair like a splash of red against the pillow, her eyes smoky with desire, her skin warm and tingling beneath his hand . . .

With an oath, he forced his thoughts away from such a dangerous path, reminding himself that he was promised to a woman he’d never met, that the woman he wanted was betrothed to the Sisterhood.

But he had no desire to wed the woman who had been chosen for him.

And Kylene might never be able to return to Mouldour.

But they were here now.

Alone.

Together.

“Listen!” She cocked her head to one side, a wide smile playing over her lips as the roar of the wind and the waves diminished.

She swung her legs over the edge of the bunk and hurried to the porthole. Standing on tiptoe, she peered outside. The sea was calming, the waves less fierce, less threatening.

“Do you think it’s over?” she asked.

“Aye, lady,” he replied, thinking that the storm that had raged outside was as nothing compared to the tumult raging in his loins.

Hands coiled into tight fists, he let out a sigh. The gale was over. It was time to go on deck and assess the damage.

It was just as well, he thought as he left the cabin and closed the door firmly behind him. Had he stayed a moment longer, he had no doubt he would have done something he would have regretted later.

They arrived in Argone two days later. Kylene stood at the rail, mesmerized by the beauty of the land. There were trees everywhere—graceful willows that swayed gently in the breeze, tall oaks and pines. In the distance, wildflowers covered the hillside like a multicolored blanket. There were lacy ferns and climbing vines, bloodred night-blooming roses and bright yellow dandelions.

She took a deep breath, her nostrils filling with the scent of sea and earth, flora and fauna. She slid a glance at Hardane, who stood at the windward side of the quarterdeck, one hand shading his eyes, the other clinging to the mast. His hair, as black as the sea birds that hovered over the ship, billowed behind him like a battle flag. Days at sea had darkened his skin. He looked wild and untamed and outrageously handsome.

She forced the thought from her mind. He was not for her. Even if she wanted him, which she most decidedly did not, he belonged to another.

But she could not draw her gaze from his broad back, from the way the sun danced in his hair. He shifted his stance, and the sight of corded muscles rippling beneath sun-bronzed skin made her stomach curl in a most peculiar fashion. She felt her mouth go dry, felt her palms itch with the need to run her fingers through his hair, to measure the width of his shoulders, to map the unknown terrain of his broad chest and ridged belly.

“Stop it!” She muttered the words under her breath, chastising herself for letting her mind wander down a path that she had no business navigating.

With an effort, she drew her gaze from Hardane and stared over the rail again as the ship glided effortlessly into port.

A half hour later, Hardane was leading her down the gangplank. It seemed odd to be standing on solid ground again. She’d just gotten her sea legs, she thought wryly, and now it felt awkward to be on land again, to be able