Beneath a Midnight Moon - By Amanda Ashley Page 0,25
bird lulled her to sleep.
And he was there, walking through the corridors of her mind, his gray eyes warm with desire. Murmuring her name, he took her into his arms and kissed her, gently at first, and then with a spiraling intensity that left her breathless.
Be mine, lady, he coaxed. Admit that you’re Carrick’s daughter, and let us be wed in the seventh month, as planned.
She gazed into his eyes, wishing she could say the words he longed to hear, wishing that she were, indeed, his betrothed. Here, in his arms, with her heart pounding and her blood racing, she put all her lies behind her and knew that it wasn’t the peace and security of the Motherhouse she wanted, but the love of the man who held her in his arms. For an instant of time, she considered lying to him, considered telling him that she was indeed Carrick’s seventh daughter.
I can’t wait until the time of ripe fruits, she wanted to cry. Marry me today. Now. This minute. But the words would not come. She could not lie to him. Much as she wished it, she could not pretend to be someone she was not.
He drew her close, crushing her breasts against the solid wall of his chest, letting her feel the heat of his desire. With a wordless cry of pain, she pressed her lips to his, the ache of needing him bringing tears to her eyes.
Do not cry, lady, all will be well.
“Do not cry, lady.”
His voice penetrated her dream, and she opened her eyes to see Hardane stretched out beside her, so close that his breath fanned her face.
For a timeless moment, they gazed into each other’s eyes, and then his hand slid around the back of her neck and his mouth closed over hers.
It was a gentle kiss, as light as thistledown, and yet the wonder of it, the beauty of it, suffused her from head to foot, making her heart pound and her blood sing a new song.
She felt bereft when he took his lips from hers. In her mind she heard the echo of his words: Be mine, lady. Be mine, be mine . . .
It was tempting, so tempting. But she wasn’t a princess and she couldn’t say she was. As much as she yearned to belong to Hardane, she could not live a lie, could not spend the rest of her life pretending to be Selene, no matter how tempting the thought might be. And, sooner or later, he would discover the lie and she would be exposed as a fraud. It was a humiliation she could not begin to imagine.
Aware of his gaze, his disappointment, she stood up, her fingers worrying the folds of her skirt. “I wish to go back now.”
He rose lithely to his feet, his gaze never leaving her face. “As you please, lady.”
Moments later, he lifted her onto the back of her horse. For a long moment, he remained at her side, his eyes searching hers, and then he turned away.
As they rode back to the castle, Kylene had the feeling that she had lost something precious though it was never meant to be hers.
Chapter 14
Hardane stared at Jared, a frown creasing his brow. “What are we doing here?”
A hint of mischief danced in Jared’s brown eyes. “It’s what you need, my friend.”
Hardane sent a dubious glance at the pleasure palace. It was a large square building made of dark stone. There were no windows, only narrow slits that admitted a minimum of light during the day. A narrow iron door was the only entrance.
He let out a quick breath. He had never been inside such a place, though he had heard tales of what went on inside. Anything a man desired could be his for the right price. Women of all sizes and shapes, all colors and ages. The finest ale, the softest beds, the most willing courtesans in all of Argone.
“It’s what you need,” Jared said again. “I know, I know, you promised your mother to live like a monk until you wed, but you’re not a monk, my friend. You’re a man, with a man’s needs, a man’s desires, and it’s time you had a woman.”
Hardane stood there for a long moment, torn between the need to relieve his sexual frustration and his determination to keep the promise he’d made to his mother. But his mother was not a man. She couldn’t know how painful it was for him, wanting a woman,