Beneath a Rising Moon Read online

  difficult request when the moon rides high.

  So it would seem. She arched her back, stretching her

  arms skywards. The emotive swirl of his thoughts became

  a wall of heat. He wanted her, of that she was certain.

  Whether he would take her was unclear. He hadn’t yet

  moved from his dark hideaway.

  Perhaps I should go home. The moon, it seems, offers

  me no comfort tonight.

  He hesitated. Perhaps we should talk on the matter.

  The bait had been taken. Now to snare him fully. But

  the elation that ran through her was tempered by the

  knowledge that true victory would mean spending the rest

  of the week in this man’s bed. But it was a small price to

  pay when her sister’s life hung in the balance.

  She considered him a moment longer, not wanting to

  seem too eager. You are little more than a shadow to me. I

  cannot discuss possibilities with someone I cannot see.

  The French window opened, and he stepped out onto

  the balcony. Her heart slammed into the wall of her chest,

  then it seemed to drop somewhere in the vicinity of her

  toes.

  He was tall, close to six foot, if not over, his build

  quietly powerful, but lean like an athlete’s. His hair was

  dark and long, full of unruly waves that brushed his

  shoulders. His face was that of a dark angel’s—beautiful,

  and yet somehow sinister. And while it may have been

  true that the eyes were the mirror of the soul, this man’s

  were shuttered and painted black. There was nothing to

  be read in his expression—or the lack of it. If not for the

  sensation of hunger that burned between them, she would

  have thought him uninterested.

  Do you like what you see?

  She gave a disinterested shrug. Looks are not the

  measure of the man. Even though this man’s looks were

  stirring her in ways no man ever had before.

  A wise statement for one so young.

  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 breasts and caressed

  her aching nipples. 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 breasts 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 nipples 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 chee
k, 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.

  She swallowed convulsively. “Indeed?”

  He moved his hand down the long line of her neck.

  Her pulse was a wild flutter under his fingertips. “Indeed.”

  “And what of my desire for a more lingering seduction

  once the initial fire had gone?”

  He let his hand drift down to her breasts and gently

  rubbed one firm nub through the film of her dress. She

  shivered, her lips parting a little, as if she couldn’t suck

  in enough air.

  “I think that could be arranged.”

  She closed her eyes briefly. “One night holds no interest

  for me this phase.”

  “But you have not yet tried the goods and cannot say

  whether one night or more will be enough.” He leaned

  close, his mouth capturing hers, gently demanding.

  For the briefest of moments, she froze, her lips hard

  and unyielding under his. Then she sighed and seemed to

  melt toward him, deepening the kiss, opening her mouth,

  letting him explore more fully.

  Heat shivered through his soul, and the urgency

  increased tenfold. He wanted her as he’d wanted no other

  in his life, and the effort of holding back, of not taking her

  right then and there, had every muscle trembling.

  But she had yet to say yes. Until she did, he couldn’t

  fully take her. There were rules, even here in this mansion

  some called a den of debauchery.

  He slid his hand down her waist and found the slit in

  her skirt. Touched the silk of her thigh and worked

  upwards. He cupped the triangle of her curls then gently

  delved her moist heat.

  Her moan shuddered through him, testing his

  strength, his will. He delved deeper, sliding through her

  slickness, until her muscles pulsed around one finger,

  then two. She pressed against him, riding his hand with

  increasing urgency. Her skin was feverish, flushed with

  desire and need.

  A need he understood only too well.

  She grabbed his shoulders, fingers trembling, nails

  digging deep.

  “By the moon.” Her voice was little more than a

  fractured whisper. “Please...”

  Her plea raged across his senses, almost destroying

  his control. Yet at the same time, an oddly primeval sense

  of power surged through him. She was his for the taking,

  whether she’d admitted it yet or not.

  He stroked harder, faster. Her body shuddered against

  his, her skin glossy with perspiration. He kissed her ear,

  ran his tongue down the long line of her neck. She tasted

  of honey, desire and sunshine—and he knew then she

  was a wolf who played in the daylight more often than

  moonlight. They lived in two different worlds, but right

  then, he didn’t care. She’d stepped into his realm, and he

  intended to take every advantage of it.

  He took a nipple into his mouth, sucking hard through

  the gossamer material. Her shuddering reached a

  crescendo, and her cry of pleasure sang through the night.

  A wave of primitive power surged through him, yet he knew

  he could take her higher, deeper, than what she’d yet

  tasted.

  He slid his fingers free of her and began undoing the

  ties of her gown. Her eyes, darkened by a mix of pleasure

  and surprise, flew open.

  “Dance with me.” The ancient yet formal words of

  binding slipped hastily off his tongue, his voice little more

  than a hoarse whisper. “Let your body join with mine and

  rejoice in the power of the divine light.”

  He slid the gown from her shoulders and let it fall to

  the ground. Her skin was pale gold silk and glowed softly

  in the darkness. Her breathing was quick, sharp, every

  intake seeming to shudder through her entire body.

  He pushed her back until she was trapped between

  the wall of the pavilion and him. The heat of her washed

  across his senses, and the wild beat of her heart was a

  siren’s song that fueled his urgency to greater heights. It

  was all he could do to simply stand there, his body pressed

  hard against hers, seeking and yet not entering.

  “This night,” he continued raggedly. “And the

  remaining nights of this phase.”

  An odd mix of apprehension and elation ran through

  her eyes. She took a deep breath, then released it in a

  shudder. “This night,” she whispered. “And the remaining

  nights.”

  Mine. With savage exaltation he surged into her.

  Groaned in bliss as her muscles contracted against him.

  God, was there a sweeter sensation on this earth? He slid

  his hands down her hips and cupped her buttocks. “Wrap

  your legs around me.”

  His demand was little more than a growl, but she

  seemed to understand him. Her legs wrapped around his

  waist, and her arms slipped around his neck. His

  movements became hard, fast. Hot flesh slapped against

  hot flesh. There was nothing gentle about this mating.

  Couldn’t be, with the heat of the moon riding them both

  so fiercely. Gentleness would come later, once the initial

  urgency had gone.

  He claimed her mouth, kissing her ferociously.

  Passionately. Their tongues dueled, explored, the rhythm

  echoing the thrusting of his hips.

  The red tide rose, becoming a wall of pleasure he could

  not deny. His movements quickened. Deepened. Her gasps

  reached a second crescendo, and her cries echoed across

  the silence as her body bucked against his. He came—a

  hot, torrential release whose force tore a shout from his

  lips and sent his body rigid.

  He couldn’t say how long they stood there like that,

  bodies locked together, the night air gradually cooling their

  fever-kissed skin. It could have been minutes, or it could

  have been hours.

  It could have lasted an eternity, and he wouldn’t have

  cared.

  He breathed in the scent of her—the sweet flowery

  tang of jasmine mingled with the more evocative musk of

  femininity and sex. He couldn’t remember a time when

  he’d felt more satisfied, more fulfilled. And yet there was

  so much more to come. This delicate beauty had agreed

  to be his, not only tonight, but for the remainder of the

  week. They had the time to explore each other more fully.

  It was a thought that sent a jolt of primitive pleasure

  coursing through his veins.

  He kissed the pulse point in her neck. Felt the still

  erratic flutter under his lips.
>
  “Do you have a name?”

  It was a question he had no right to ask. No names,

  no faces. Those were the rules set by his ancestors long

  ago, rules he’d abided by up until now. But if she was

  new to this place, she might not be aware of them. There

  was something about this woman that intrigued him in a

  way no other had, and he had no intention of simply letting

  her walk away in the morning without some means of

  finding her should she decide not to return. Not after he’d

  sampled the delights she had to offer.

  Tension crept through her limbs. She was still

  trembling, but he couldn’t say whether its cause was his

  closeness or something else.

  “Neva.” Her breath whispered past his ear, a heated

  touch that stirred barely sated embers. “Yours?”

  “Duncan.”

  She unwrapped her legs from his waist, and he

  carefully lowered her to the ground. Though her gaze met

  his without qualms, the rush of color through her pale

  cheeks suggested she was not as bold as she was making

  out.

  She tucked silken wisps of gold behind her ears. “Do

  you come here often?”

  “Not recently. You?”

  “My first time.” Reluctance filled her voice, and the

  red bloom in her cheeks grew. “I wasn’t sure if I was doing

  the right thing or not.”

  He was glad she’d taken the chance. Glad it was he

  who’d heard her wistful thoughts. He touched a hand to

  her cheek. “And now?”

  A smile teased her lips. “I’m more uncertain than ever.”

  “Then I shall endeavor to prove your decision to come

  here was no mistake.” He leaned forward, needing to taste

  her again.

  Her eyes widened slightly, and her uncertainty surged,

  crowding his mind. Despite her promises, she still wasn’t

  sure about him. Not that it really mattered now. While it

  was a female’s right to pick and choose as she pleased,

  once she had said yes to mating, the male had the right to

  enforce it. And he would do so, if that’s what it took to

  keep her by his side these next few nights.

  Her mouth was warm and sweet under his, and as the

  kiss deepened, the moon’s heat began to burn through

  his veins again. But this time, he would take his time,

  pleasure her more fully.

  A howl sang through the night, the cry of a wolf in