My Lord Immortality (Immortal Rogues #3)(24)

Using the experience that she had gained during her past forays in the dark, she managed to avoid the occasional steps that creaked and the tables that littered the hall. She even kept the number of times she banged her toes to less than a dozen.

All the time the tingles grew more pronounced and warmth began to flood through her blood.

She was growing nearer, she acknowledged with a twitch of her heart. Much nearer.

At last slipping through the kitchen door, Amelia paused only a moment before moving through the small garden toward a large oak tree.

"Sebastian," she called softly.

"I am here." There was only a moment of hesitation before a darker shadow detached from the low wall about the garden and stepped into the bright, silver moonlight. "I thought you would be sleeping."

Amelia discovered her gaze clinging to the chiseled lines of his features and the broad width of his shoulders, as if she had not seen him only yesterday. She knew she could stand there and simply drink in his male beauty for hours if it would not make her appear noddy.

"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.