She raised her eyebrows, a smile teasing her lips. And that is a very condescending statement from one so young.
Amusement touched his sensual mouth. He crossed his arms and continued to regard her in that disinterested yet oddly disturbing manner of his.
I have squeezed many years of living into this young body, believe me.
So his reputation had suggested. Had she any other choice, she would have stayed far away from this particular wolf and his wild, hungry ways. But he was the only Sinclair the rangers did not have under suspicion and, therefore, her safest route into the Sinclair stronghold.
Ah. Then perhaps you have little interest in one less well travelled. She picked up her gown and pulled it on. The sheer material clung to her damp br**sts and caressed her aching ni**les. Again his need swam around her, a blanket that smothered, leaving her breathless.
I did not say that.
No. She hesitated and stepped free of the water, then raised her gaze challengingly to his. I intend to leave. But if you can find me before I depart these grounds, we shall ... talk ... more on this matter.
She turned around and walked away, not looking back. Yet his gaze burned into her back as surely as his hunger sent a fever blistering across her skin. He would come for her, she was sure of that.
Now all she had to do was pray she could hold his attention for more than just this night.
* * * *
Duncan Sinclair moved through the crowd, silent as a shadow. Unnoticed, unseen. The music pounded through his veins, a heavy, throbbing beat that matched the need in him. He'd had no intention of joining the dance tonight. He'd wanted nothing more than to complete his task here and leave as quickly as possible. But his intentions had flown out the window the minute he heard the wanton, wistful thoughts of the female.
He let his gaze roam the darkness. There was still a wealth of unclaimed women ready for the taking, but most of them were long-time participants of the dance, as jaded as the night itself.
Not so the wolf who'd played in the fountain outside his rooms. There was a freshness about her, a vibrancy, which suggested she was very new to the mansion and the dance.
She was here somewhere. He could sense her. She was a teasing hint of sunshine in the darkness, a caress of warm shyness that taunted the outer edges of his mind.
He wanted her. God, how he wanted her.
He continued on through the crowd and made his way out the rear doors. The night breeze rifled cool fingers through his hair, but it failed to ease the fever pulsing through his body.
She was close. The musky scent of femininity stirred the air, mixed with the gentle tang of jasmine. He walked through the strand of Aspens that divided this section of the house from the main gardens, his strides long, eating the ground. If she was indeed leaving, she would have do so through one of three gates. The closest gate to his room lay behind the summer house. He made his way past the grand old pavilion, but her scent didn't linger near the gates. She hadn't come this far yet.
He backtracked to the summer house and there he found her. Stopping in the shadow-filled pavilion, he once again drank in the sight of her. She was small and delicately built — not what he usually chased, that was for sure. Her hair was a silky wave that brushed her hips, and deep gold in color. She still wore the mansion's gown, and the gossamer fine material hid little. He hungrily surveyed the lean length of her, from the proud thrust of her br**sts to the dark gold triangle of hair between her thighs, then down the long length of her legs to her toes and back up again.
Her mask was heavily ornate and hid most of her features. But even from where he stood, he could see her eyes. They were the green of a newborn leaf, rich and exotic.
The heat in his loins became an ache that almost consumed him. He had to have her. Now.
He moved out of the shadows. Uncertainty flickered in her beautiful eyes, then she came towards him. Her gaze boldly traveled the length of his body, seeming to linger on the hard evidence of his excitement before finally rising again to his face. Her ni**les were puckered, straining against the gossamer restraints of her gown, evidence of the desire he could clearly smell.
She entered the pavilion and stopped in front of him. The musky scent of her desire grew stronger, fueling the already raging need in him. But he wasn't the only one aching with the needs of the night and the moon.
"So you found me."
Her voice was huskier than before, but still as smooth as silk, as rich as velvet. Despite the heat that surged between them, her gaze was cool. Wary.
"Yes."
He touched her cheek, running his fingers down to the warm fullness of her lips. She trembled under his caress, but didn't back away.
"So you wish to discuss the matter further?" she asked.
"No. What I wish is to dance with you."
The words were little more than a formality. She'd basically consented to his advances back there in the fountain.
Panic flitted through her eyes, making him wonder just how new she was to the mansion and its ways. Certainly he'd never seen her here before, but he'd been away for nearly ten years.