Beneath a Midnight Moon - By Amanda Ashley Page 0,59
flashed in her mind. The hair beneath her hand felt like fur, and she seemed to feel his tongue stroking her palm, whining softly as he brushed against her legs. Incredibly, there was an instant when she felt as though she were the wolf.
And then she was soaring, all her senses keenly alive, lost in the wonder of Hardane’s touch and her own unbridled response. Higher, higher, she raced past the moon and the stars until she caught the rainbow and it shattered in her grasp, filling her whole being with all the colors and textures of life renewing itself.
Hardane let out a long, shuddering sigh. And then he smiled. Nothing Jared had ever told him, nothing he had ever imagined, had prepared him for the reality of what had just happened. Not only had his body merged with Kylene’s, but his heart and his mind as well. There had been a moment, one breathless moment, when all he was, all his hopes and dreams for the future, had merged with hers, a single glorious moment when her essence had been interwoven with his.
Rolling onto his side, he drew Kylene into his arms and rained kisses on her eyelids, her nose, her mouth. He smiled at the husky sigh of satisfaction that whispered past her lips.
“You’re very quiet, lady,” he remarked, one finger toying with a lock of her hair.
“I know, but . . .” She lifted one shoulder and let it fall. “I don’t want to spoil this moment.”
“I didn’t displease you, then?”
“Oh, no,” Kylene answered quickly, fervently. She smiled up at him, her green eyes filled with mischief. “Of course, I have no other lovers to compare you with.”
A low growl rumbled in Hardane’s throat as he rolled her onto her back, his body pinning hers to the mattress.
“And you never will,” he declared fiercely. “I’ll flay the hide from any man who dares to touch you.”
Kylene stared up into her husband’s face, startled by his implacable tone. What she had said in jest had not been taken that way. His gray eyes were dark with fury. And jealousy.
“Hardane . . .” She smiled at him, hoping to erase the anger from his gaze. “I was only jesting. I want no one but you.”
“I know,” he replied, somewhat embarrassed by his outburst. “But the thought of you with another man is more than I can bear.” His hand caressed her cheek with infinite tenderness. “There were times in the last few weeks when I wanted to kill my own brothers. Especially Dubrey. Watching them court you, watching you smile at them, dance with them . . .” Hardane shook his head ruefully. “I could have cheerfully killed them all.”
“They were only teasing you.”
“I know, but it didn’t make any difference.” Hardane rolled onto his side and drew her into the circle of his arms. “But they were with you.”
“And you were with Selene.” Kylene sat up, frowning. “Where do you suppose she went?”
Hardane shrugged. “I’m sure she’s in the castle somewhere. She has nowhere else to go.”
“I know, but—”
“No more talk of Selene for now,” Hardane admonished.
“One question?”
“Ask it.”
“What would have happened if Selene had answered my challenge and braved the flames?”
“She would have been destroyed.”
“I wasn’t.”
“She’s not you, lady.”
“But . . .”
Hardane drew Kylene down beside him once more. “I don’t want to think about Selene,” he murmured. “I don’t want to talk about Selene. I want you, lady, only you, in my thoughts, in my heart, in my arms.”
“Hardane . . .”
“Aye, lady?”
She twined her arms around his neck. “Read my thoughts, Wolf of Argone,” she whispered, and molded her body to his just in case he had trouble reading her mind.
Kylene sat up, uncertain as to what had awakened her. A glance at the window told her it was still dark outside. Frowning, she reached out to Hardane’s side of the bed and found it empty.
Murmuring his name, she slipped out of the huge four-poster bed, drew on her night robe, and padded barefoot to the window. Drawing the heavy midnight blue velvet drapery aside, she gazed into the courtyard below.
Certain she was imagining things, she rubbed her eyes and looked again.
And there, beneath a midnight moon, she saw two wolves frolicking in the night-damp grass.
She knew at once that the large black wolf was Hardane and knew, with the same certainty, that the smaller wolf was Sharilyn.
She’d been watching the pair for perhaps five minutes when a deep voice sounded from behind her.