Free Beneath a Midnight Moon by Amanda Ashley

Hardane’s friend Jared had been comely enough, but surely no man in all the world was as handsome as the one standing before her.
    Hardane felt his body respond to Kylene’s perusal. The touch of her golden brown eyes was like the touch of fire, snaking along his nerve endings, igniting the coals of desire until he thought he might burst into flame. It had been sheer folly to agree to bring her here. He was a man grown, a man destined to rule Argone, and yet he had no more knowledge of women than a lad.
    The fire in his body raged hotter and hotter, fueled by the faint hint of longing that sparked in Kylene’s eyes.
    Take her now.
    He clenched his fists to keep from doing just that, but he didn’t turn away. Fool that he was, he continued to stand close to the flame, tormenting himself like a moth that knows sure destruction awaits but is drawn closer and closer to the fire.
    And then he heard his mother’s voice whisper in the back of his mind, warning him, reminding him of the promise he had made to her years ago.
    Like a splash of cold water, it cooled the flames, though the spark still burned. With an effort, he took a step back, putting distance between them.
    “Are you hungry?” he asked.
    Kylene released a deep breath, feeling as though she had just been rescued from the edge of a precipice. “Not yet.”
    “Thirsty, perhaps?”
    She nodded, her gaze following him as he removed a flask and two goblets from his saddlebags. He filled one and handed it to her, then filled the second for himself.
    Kylene took the goblet, grateful to have something to do with her hands. She sipped the wine slowly, feeling it spread through her, warming her, relaxing her.
    “It’s pretty here,” she remarked, looking around. “Do you come here often?” Do you bring women here often? was what she really wanted to know, but didn’t dare ask.
    He shrugged. “This was my favorite place when I was a boy. I used to spend hours here, walking through the woods, watching the waterfall yonder, fishing, dreaming.”
    “Of what did you dream?”
    A faint smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “Of being a great warrior. Of saving a princess from an evil wizard.”
    Selene. The name slithered into the back of Kylene’s mind. Selene was the princess he was destined to rescue.
    “And now your dreams are coming true,” she murmured. “Jared told me you are a great warrior. And soon you’ll have your princess.”
    A shadow darkened Hardane’s eyes. He had forgotten about Selene.
    “No doubt she’s very beautiful,” Kylene said.
    “Perhaps,” Hardane remarked, and knew that it wouldn’t matter. Beautiful or ugly, he didn’t want her. He wanted the girl standing before him, wanted her with such soul-searing desire that he was tempted to turn his back on all that he was, to break the promise he’d made to his mother, just to possess her, if only for a day, an hour.
    Kylene stared at him over the rim of her goblet. She could feel his desire reaching out to her, tangible, alive. It should have frightened her; instead, for one brief moment, she welcomed it. He desired her. Perhaps he thought her pretty. It was a heady thought, one that filled her heart and soul with joy, and then guilt overshadowed her joy, reminding her that she had vowed to take her place in the Sisterhood, that pride was a sin, that the yearnings of the flesh were of the most wicked kind, for which she would have to do hours and hours of penance when she returned to the Motherhouse.
    A little seed of rebellion, nurtured by distance and watered by desire, suddenly sprouted in the back of her mind, reminding her that she might never return to the Motherhouse, that she might never have the opportunity to take her final vows.
    And for the first time, she let herself think of what it might be like to live as other women lived, to love, to marry, to share her life with a man. She tested it, tasted it, and found it sweet. And then, like a bit of meat chewed too long,