Waiting for the Moon

A low, droning murmur of conversation wafted from the parlor. Ian and Johann were arguing again.

It was now or never. She wrenched open the front door and barreled outside, forcing herself not to laugh as she sped along the gravel path and through the nighttime forest.

The beach welcomed her in a thousand little ways. Wispy purple clouds crawled across the twilight sky, casting a myriad of shifting, dancing shapes on the undulating sea. Tiny stones rattled in the breeze. The air smelled of seawa

ter and pine and life.

She hugged herself and twirled around, reveling in the freedom, then she walked to the edge of the cliff, staring down at the swirling, turbulent white-tipped waves below. The sea breathed and pulsed, drew back, then hurled itself against the black rock ledge. Spray splashed her face. All around her, flowers shivered in the cold night air, tossing their multicolored faces in the breeze. A low hedge of phlox crept out from the shadow of the forest, as if seeking the magnificent view for itself.

"Selena!" Ian's angry voice broke through the silence.

She stiffened and-slowly turned around.

He stood at the edge of the forest, half-dressed. Black breeches hugged his long legs, and a white lawn shirt hung at an awkward angle over his naked chest. "What in the hell are you doing?" There was a cold evenness to his voice that chilled her to the bone.

"I needed to be outside."

He surged toward her, his booted feet striding across the uneven layer of gray rock. When he reached her, he grabbed her by the upper arm and yanked her away from the ledge. Holding her in an iron, unforgiving grip, he half dragged her through the forest and back toward the house.

At the lawn, he paused for a second, and she wrenched

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free. Her breath came in great, wheezing gasps. "I misunderstand what you are doing." "Get in the house."

Nervously she wet her lips. He stood there, tall and incredibly handsome, his gold hair glinting in the half-light, his eyes an almost incandescent blue. She longed to be what he wanted, to do what he asked, but she couldn't give up the sun. Not the sun. "No."

He closed his eyes for a heartbeat, but not before she'd seen a flash of raw pain. "Get inside."

Her instinct was to go to him, take his hand and kneel before him, drawing him down into the warm grass beside her. To touch his cheek and gaze into his eyes and ask him what he was scared of, but she dared not get so close to him.

She had seen something in him in the past day that frightened her. A desperation, an anger that was too close to the surface. He was like a wild animal, prepared to do anything, hurt anything, to be free.

And he looked at her differently as well. It broke her heart the way he looked at her, reminded her of the days when he'd seen nothing but a patient. Now he saw nothing but a possession, something to keep at all costs. Once again, he wasn't seeing her.

He lunged toward her, grabbed her by the shoulders and dragged her close. "I'm trying to keep you safe, you little idiot. Don't fight me."

She gazed up at him. "I cannot be you, Ian."

"What do you mean?"

"I will not live in darkness to be safe."

"It's the only way, Selena."

"Then let me go now."

A wild fury flashed through his eyes and he yanked her close again. So close, she could feel how he was shaking, smell the alcohol on his breath. "Never," he hissed. "You're mine."

Selena stared up at Ian; suddenly he was a man she'd never seen before.

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He didn't want to love her. He wanted to own her.

The realization brought a wrenching sense of sadness and loss. "Do you remember that poem you read to me, 'The Lady of Shallot'?"

A little of the wildness left his gaze, and for a heartbreaking moment, he was her Ian again, seeing her, listening to her. "Yes."