Moonwitch

“Aren’t you worried someone will hear?”

“All the servants are at supper, and the girls will have eaten. They decided to feel sorry for me and allow me some solitude.”

“I don’t know, Moonwitch.” Kyle glanced around him skeptically. “I’ve always thought straw overrated. As a bed it leaves much to be desired.”

“I don’t care. Kyle, please…”

“You know,” he observed with amusement, his fingers stealing to her bodice and deftly baring her breasts, “I always did have one major problem. I never could resist you…”

“I’m glad.”

His husky laughter caressed her nipple as his lips came down to capture it, and Selena quivered, her senses flaring with sensation, the intensity of pleasure she felt in his burning touch heightened by the certainty of his love.

He aroused her slowly, with a skill that left her trembling and breathless, and undressed her with reverence, as if it were the first time. Unashamed, Selena watched as Kyle removed his own clothes, glorying in the beauty of his powerful, bronzed, totally masculine body. And when he came to her, she clasped him to her breast with a possessiveness that his glowing eyes told her he shared.

“I want so much to give you a son,” she murmured, and the glow in Kyle’s eyes deepened to a golden flame as his mouth came fiercely down to claim hers.

Her hands roved over him, caressing the broad, damp expanse of his back with the muscles rippling under smooth skin, the tightly contracted strength of his buttocks and waist, his satiny, powerful arms, until he was trembling as violently as she.

“Selena,” Kyle breathed at last as he slid deep inside her welcoming warmth. “My woman, my lady, my love.”

Yet deliberately he held back, gazing down at her delicate, enchanting face. No longer was he aching because fate had deprived him of his son; he had Selena and a lifetime to spend loving her and their future children. No longer did he feel the restless need to roam the seas in search of challenge and adventure; he was home. No longer would he struggle against the chains of obligation and duty that bound him to the land and shackled his precious freedom; he had found freedom in her arms. His heart was soaring with a bliss so profound that he felt dizzy.

Giddy with the same joy, Selena arched against him as he moved within her, clutching the taut sinews of his arms, giving herself over totally to the passion that was hot and wild and sweet. And when together they found their own heaven, her cry of ecstasy mingled with Kyle’s hoarse groan of fulfillment. Still, he lowered himself to her, dropping his face into the warm, wet hollow of Selena’s throat as he lay against her, spent, shuddering.

It was a long time before they returned to earth, to the pulsing, sweltering heat of the loft. Selena made a small murmur of protest as Kyle eased his weight from her, but he pressed a conciliatory kiss on the damp, flushed skin of her temple and gathered her close, relaxing with a sigh of exhaustion. The last rays of sunlight glinted off the spinning dust motes as they lay together in sated silence.

“I think,” Kyle said sometime later, his voice still husky with passion, “I take the honors for noise this time.”

Selena roused herself enough to lift her gaze to his face. Seeing how contented he looked, she traced a provocative finger from his lightly furred chest to the hard, flat plane of his stomach, smiling when she felt his muscles tense. “I like it when you ‘carry on,’” she observed with deliberate smugness. “It makes a woman feel powerful, knowing she can make her man groan.”

At her echo of his onetime remark, Kyle put his head back and roared. She was a constant source of delight to him.

“No doubt,” he said wickedly when he could talk, “the uniqueness of the situation had a hand in arousing me. I’ve never made love to a pink-haired woman before.”

Selena’s cheeks flushed scarlet at the reminder. Wanting to hide, she buried her face in Kyle’s chest.

“I’m flattered, Moonwitch, that you would want to gratify my whims, but I happen to like you the way you are.”

“I’m never going to live this down,” she muttered ruefully.

“It isn’t that bad, I suppose. Only a very pale pink.”

Selena groaned in mortification.

“I expect the color will fade,” Kyle assured her, abandoning his teasing.

“When?”

“I don’t know. Did you try to wash it out?”

“I rinsed out the dye.”

“We’ll scrub it with lye soap.”

“What if that doesn’t help?”

“Then you can wear one of those turbans that are all the rage. You’ll be considered a leader of fashion. And I’m certain you’ll look every bit as beautiful as usual. Now why don’t you forget about your hair for a moment. I have a proposition to discuss with you.” He slipped a finger under Selena’s chin, making her lift her gaze. “What would you say to taking a trip to Louisville? Not now—the harvest will soon be under way. But next spring, before planting begins.”