Moonwitch

“Kyle…” Her voice was so unsteady that she swallowed. “No matter how much it hurts, you can’t take him away from Danielle.”

He looked away, raking his fingers through his hair. “I realize that.”

“I understand how painful it is to accept,” she insisted quietly. “I know what it’s like to lose someone you love.”

After a moment, Kyle nodded and released her arm. He didn’t reply, but inside he knew she was right. He could never have Clay as his son; he would have to accept that. He had to let go. Gathering the reins, he set the horse in motion and didn’t speak for the remainder of the brief ride.

He was too wrapped up in his own suffering to realize he’d left Selena prey to her doubts and fears. When they reached Montrose, he handed her down from the gig and ordered his roan saddled. Selena watched him ride out, a wretched knot of despair lying cold and hard in her stomach. If she could be sure it was only his son Kyle was longing for and not Danielle, she might have found his leaving easier to bear.

He hadn’t returned by the time she retired for the night. Restless and aching, she lay awake in the darkness, staring at the canopy above her bed, watching the shifting shadows made by the flowering almond outside the window.

She heard him come in sometime before midnight. Without meaning to, Selena listened intently to the quiet sounds he made as he moved around his room. The slight noises eventually ceased, yet the heavy silence felt tense and alive.

Nearly half an hour later she heard the slight click of the latch as the door to her bedchamber slowly opened. Hesitantly, she sat up, hardly daring to breathe as she pushed aside the swaths of mosquito netting. Kyle stood without moving in the doorway, fingers of moonlight playing on his rugged features and reflecting from the dark green brocade of his dressing gown. His dark hair was tousled, and there was a rough shadow of a beard on his jaw. It was the first time since their marriage that he had come to her room at night, but though she could hope, she couldn’t be sure of his intent. His eyes, like his expression, were inscrutable.

Her own eyes wide with uncertainty, Selena watched as Kyle quietly shut the door behind him and crossed the room to her bedside. She could feel her heart pounding in slow, sharp pulses as he stared down at her.

“You were right,” Kyle whispered, “about Clay. I have to give him up, no matter how much it hurts.”

The pain in his voice was soft and throbbing. Wanting to offer comfort, she reached up to give him her hand.

Yes, he thought, help me ease the hurt.

His fingers curled over hers, warm and pleading, like the dark message in his eyes. Without releasing his grasp, Kyle slowly sat beside her.

“Selena.” He said it like a caress. “My wise, understanding Selena.” And when she moved into his arms, he gathered her against him with a tenderness that stirred hope as well as desire and longing in her heart.

With a sigh, Selena pressed her cheek against the tightly curving muscles of his chest, where his dressing gown had parted. He was naked beneath, and she could feel her cool flesh warming against the satin of his bare skin. She wanted to ask him about Danielle, but she couldn’t bear to hear the answer and destroy this moment. Instead, she closed her eyes, listening to the vital rhythm of his heart mate with his breathing.

But Kyle’s heart wasn’t as tranquil as the steady tempo suggested. Indeed, it ached… for the loss he had sustained…for the woman in his arms. Selena was so very beautiful—her slender, white body bare except for the gauzy film of her nightdress, her pale hair kissed by moonlight. That image had burned itself in his memory weeks ago, indelible and strong. It was that image he remembered first whenever she was away from him. That was what had sustained him tonight during the long hours while he struggled with the bitterness of losing his son. Selena was right. He had to consider Clay’s best interests and not his own selfish needs. That knowledge had kept him from returning to town. Instead, he had gone to the fields, where he had tried to work out his frustration physically—to dull the grief that was tearing at his insides.

It hadn’t helped, nor had the hours of hard riding afterward. Yet it was only after he had returned home that he realized he was searching in the wrong direction for the wrong remedy. He had only to look close to home to find what he sought. Selena. She could assuage his pain. She could heal his aching heart. She could give him the solace he so badly needed.

He had been slow to realize it… unforgivably so. He had spoken in bitterness and anger, wounding her without meaning to. If he had driven her away, it was only what he deserved, Kyle told himself savagely.

Yet he didn’t mean that. He was quite certain that the despair he had felt over losing any chance to be a father to his son would never match the bleakness he’d feel if Selena turned away from him.

Disquieted by the sudden thought, Kyle drew back, searching her face, trying to measure the effect of his earlier ill-considered words. Her expression was expectant, waiting, and he was caught in the quiet, solemn depth of her calm blue eyes. You understood all along, didn’t you? he asked silently. You understood and cared.

“I didn’t mean what I said this afternoon,” he murmured. “About not wanting other children.”

Selena held her breath, watching him.

“And I don’t want to be free of you simply so I can claim Clay.” Still holding her gaze, Kyle carried her hand to his lips, brushing his mouth over each finger in turn. “I want you, Moonwitch. Very much.”

Not “I need you” or “I love you,” but “I want you,” Selena thought. But it would have to do.

When she tried to move into his embrace, once more, though, Kyle held her away. “Selena, it was true once,” he said urgently, wanting to explain. “I never wanted a wife. I only wanted the sea… the freedom and challenges it gave me.”

He saw something like sorrow flicker in her eyes before she quietly replied, “I know.”

“But I’ve since come to change my mind. You’ve made my life here bearable…no, much more than that. Happy. You’ve made this a home.” That also was true, he reflected. She had made his life far easier, more comfortable with her gentle touches and quiet, determined ways. He still missed the sea sometimes, but his yearning for freedom was fast fading…because he had found something even more fulfilling.

But he faltered when it came to explaining that to her, for he couldn’t find the right words, never having felt anything quite like what he was experiencing…this swelling in his heart, this burgeoning ache that was such a profound mixture of tenderness and desire.

But explanations weren’t what Selena wanted from Kyle anyway, nor praise for her domestic abilities. She wanted reassurance that she had no reason to be jealous of Danielle. And she wasn’t sure Kyle could give it.

“No, please,” she said, her voice low and hushed. “Don’t talk. Just hold me…kiss me.”