My Lord Immortality
My Lord Immortality (Immortal Rogues #3)(20)
Author: Alexandra Ivy
"I was," she finally forced out in husky tones.
He moved toward her with a slow, fluid grace, almost as if afraid a sudden movement might send her into flight.
"Surely I was not so clumsy as to waken you?"
"No." She breathed in deeply, taking pleasure in that warm scent of male skin and the faint hint of spice. "It is odd. Somehow I seemed to sense you were here."
"Perhaps not so odd."
She tilted her head back to meet his silver gaze squarely. "What are you doing here?"
He lifted his slender, elegant hands. "Admiring the beauty of the night."
"You could not admire the beauty of the night from your own garden?" she teased gently.
He gave a rueful shrug. "It seemed prudent to ensure that William had not decided upon a midnight stroll."
She had known precisely why he was there, but his confession still sent a warmth flooding her heart. She was unaccustomed to anyone taking such concern for her brother, or herself. Not even her parents.
Her hand reached out of its own accord to touch his arm. "That is very thoughtful, Sebastian, but you should not feel obligated to keep a watch upon William. He is my responsibility."
"I do not feel obligated, Amelia." He searched her face bathed in moonlight. "I am here because I desire to be."
"Oh."
His lips twitched at her obvious bemusement. "I do regret, however, that I awakened you, no matter how unintentionally."
Amelia did not. Standing in the silvered darkness of the garden and surrounded by the pungent aroma of roses, she thought that she must still be dreaming.
A handsome, charming gentleman. A moonlit night. The seductive privacy of a garden.
It was all far too romantic for an aging, nearly-upon-the-shelf spinster.
"I do not mind." She offered him a tentative smile. "It is a lovely night."
He nodded slowly but his gaze never left her.
"A magical night."
"Magical?"
His hand lifted to lightly touch the raven curls that tumbled about her shoulders.
"The moon is full and there is bewitchment in the air."
There was certainly bewitchment, but Amelia was quite certain it had more to do with the tall gentleman standing before her than the moon.
"You surely do not believe in such nonsense?"
His brows lifted. "Why do you condemn it as nonsense? Civilizations have honored the power of the moon for centuries. Indeed, most cultures worshipped it as a god."
"Or goddess," she readily pointed out.
"Certainly." He smiled deep into her eyes. "I have always presumed the moon’s seductive lure must be that of a female. Still, in the old days Hindus believed that it was a very male god of the moon who would ride through the sky in a chariot pulled by white horses." His low chuckle echoed through the still air. "And, of course, they thought the moon itself a storehouse of elixir that the gods would drink, causing it to become smaller with every passing night."
Amelia discovered herself intrigued despite the fact that she had never been fond of studies.
"A rather odd belief."
"Ah, perhaps you would prefer the ancient Samarians, who thought the moon a young, handsome bull with long horns whom they named Sin."
"Sin." Her eyes suddenly twinkled with humor. "Somehow that seems a rather appropriate name."
"Indeed." His fingers moved to trace the line of her brow, sending a shock of sensations through her body. "Nights such as this lead to all sorts of wicked thoughts."
Wicked. Amelia shivered, feeling oddly unlike herself in the darkened garden. Perhaps it was the moonlight. Or the delicious scent of roses. Or perhaps this was simply a moment out of time, she thought dizzily. Whatever the reason, she desperately longed to shrug aside her heavy burdens and responsibilities. Just for now she wanted to be a young, beautiful maiden with nothing to concern her but a very desirable flirtation with a handsome gentleman.
With a deliberate coyness she peered at him from beneath her heavy lashes.
"You intrigue me, sir. What possible wicked thoughts could a gentleman such as you possess?"
His breath rasped through the air at her deliberately provoking manner, but his expression never altered.
"Thoughts best forgotten, my dear."
"Why?"
"You do enjoy playing with fire, do you not?" he murmured, his fingers moving to outline the full curve of her lips.
"At times, I suppose." Lost in the unfamiliar fever that seared her blood, Amelia shifted close enough to j feel his body through the thin lawn of her gown. "Do you prefer the more cautious paths?"
He gave a choked groan deep in his throat, his fingers convulsively cupping her cheek. "They are considerably safer."
"But often dull."
"And peaceful."
She gazed into the eyes that had turned to a misty smoke. "Surely as a scholar you desire some stimulation to keep your wits sharp?"
His features remained composed, but Amelia could; sense the rapid, uneven beat of his heart.
He might desire to be indifferent but his body was swiftly betraying him.
"It depends entirely upon the stimulation," he muttered. "My wits do not feel particularly sharp at the moment."
Her smile was filled with a feminine mystery as old as time. Oh no, at this moment she was not boring, responsible Amelia Hadwell at all.
"Perhaps you should blame it upon the moon."
"The moon does indeed possess its share of blame." His gaze lowered to where his fingers continued to brush over her lips. "But not all, I think."
"I have no ancient powers."
His expression became wry. "You are mistaken. Your powers are the most ancient of all."
A faint frown touched her brow as she sensed the rigid control that wrapped about his inner passions.
"Powers you are quite determined to resist, are you not?"
He drew in a deep, uneven breath, an unmistakable flare of pain darkening his eyes.
"It seems the wisest course."
"Why?"
"There is still a demon haunting the neighborhood. As long as there is danger then I must remain vigilant." His hand tightened upon her cheek, his expression somber. "It is very important, Amelia."
"Yes, I know," she agreed softly, even as her mind shied from recalling such unpleasantness.
There would be time enough for such worries tomorrow.
Clearly sensing her dangerous mood, Sebastian shifted uneasily. "You should return to bed."