could, he left the cottage and returned home.
He paused as he reached the top of the mountain. The castle rose from the ground in a graceful mass of dark gray stone and aged wood, the ever-present mist hovering over it like faerie breath, the moonlight limning the turrets with silver.
Safe within the hidden room in the east tower, he closed the portal, undressed, and slid into bed beside Rhianna. He drew her into his arms, a flood of emotion swelling in his heart as she murmured something unintelligible, then snuggled trustingly against him, the warmth of her body molding itself to his, chasing away the chill of the night.
Ah, Rhianna,he mused as he lightly stroked her hair. Do you know how much I love you? How much I need you?
He groaned low in his throat as she snuggled against him. Her nearness teased his desire, stirred his hunger, that damnable hunger that seemed ever closer to the surface since he had returned to her side.
Was it because he had given her his blood, or was he losing control of the monster that resided in his soul?
He brushed a kiss across her cheek, felt his fangs lengthen. It would be so easy to take her while she slept, to drink and drink, to make her what he was. She would truly be his bride then, forever, for always.
No! He screamed the word in his mind. He would not, could not, condemn her to a life of darkness.
With an effort, he stilled the hunger, wondering, as he did so, how much longer he could keep it under control.
Chapter Twenty-seven
Rhianna woke slowly, a wondrous sense of well-being rising up within her when she opened her eyes and saw Rayven lying beside her. Once, the sight of him lying there, as still as death, had frightened her a little. But no more. He was not dead, only sleeping.
A smile warmed her heart as, ever so tenderly, she trailed her fingertips across his cheek, then bent and brushed his lips with hers. He was here, and that was all that mattered.
She studied him for a long pleasurable time, the sight of him filling her with inexpressible joy. She smoothed a lock of raven-hued hair from his forehead, traced the straight line of his brows, let her fingertip follow the faint white scar on his cheek.
He didn't stir, yet, in her heart, she knew he was aware of her touch, her presence.
"Sleep well, my lord husband," she whispered.
Rising, she pulled a robe over her gown and left the room, pausing to lock the outer door before she left the tower.
She found Bevins downstairs, sitting at the kitchen table, sipping a cup of tea.
"Milady!" Startled at being caught unaware, Bevins lurched to his feet. "I'm sorry, I didn't realize you were up. Shall I draw your bath?"
"Later. Please, sit down, Bevins. Do you mind if I join you?"
Bevins frowned. "It's not fitting, milady."
"Oh." Shoulders drooping, she turned away.
"Milady, wait!" Bevins pulled out a chair. "Please, join me. Would you care for a cup of tea? Some scones, perhaps?"
"Yes, thank you." She smiled as he poured her a cup of tea, added milk and sugar. "Tell me, Bevins, is all this formality between us really necessary?"
"I beg your pardon, milady?"
"Can't you just call me Rhianna?"
"I'm afraid it wouldn't be proper," Bevins replied, taking a seat across from her. "Lord Rayven..." He picked up his cup and stared into the contents. "I'm very much afraid he would not like it."
"Maybe you could call me Rhianna when we're alone."
"I think not, milady."
"All right, Tom. I wouldn't want you to be uncomfortable."
Rhianna finished her tea, then stood up. "Would you mind drawing my bath?"
"My pleasure, milady. Will you be wanting breakfast later?"
"Yes, thank you."
Later that day, Rhianna asked Bevins to take her to see her mother.
Ada met them at the door of the cottage. "Rhianna, how well you look," she said. She gave Rhianna a hug, smiled warmly at Bevins. "Come in, come in."
Rhianna looked at Bevins and frowned, mystified by her mother's lighthearted mood.
Ada led them into the parlor. "Sit down, both of you. Can I get you something to drink? Some lemonade, perhaps, or a cup of tea?"
"Lemonade would be nice, Mama. Where are the girls?"
"They've gone into the village to visit with Aileen. They'll be sorry they missed you. Mr. Bevins, can I get you something to drink?"
"Yes, thank you, Mistress McLeod. Lemonade would be fine."
"Can I help you, Mama?" Rhianna asked.
"No, daughter. It won't take but a