He rarely took his eyes off Millicent, and found excuses to touch her for no reason. He brought her wine and sweetmeats from the sideboard—and insisted on tasting the wine first, although Millicent did not think the duke had plans of poisoning her again. Gareth exuded enough sensuality with his every action that she had a difficult time keeping her eyes off him.

She noticed his strong hands moved with gentle grace, his blond hair held shades of red, gold, and white, and his pale eyes darkened to a smoky blue in the lamplight. The muscles in his thighs and shoulders rippled exquisitely every time he moved. And when he smiled at her or Nell, it now reached his eyes.

Millicent’s beast had retreated into a small corner of her being. This growing desire for Gareth was entirely from the human side of her nature.

“Blast,” Millicent muttered for the fifth time. She stuck her finger in her mouth and sucked off the drop of blood.

“Yer finger’s not a pincushion,” said Nell.

The room grew very quiet until Millicent could hear the soft ticking of the coal burning in the fireplace, the far-off sound of falling water outside the window, an occasional shout from one of the guards far below. She felt both of them study her intently. She refused to look up, for she might meet his gaze, and he would surely know her thoughts.

“Ye ain’t got much time before ye’re sucked back in the relic again,” said Nell to Gareth. She yawned rather dramatically, and quite loudly. “This old woman needs her rest, and I sure can’t get it with the two of ye in the room.”

Millicent flushed. Apparently Nell wasn’t as oblivious to the tension in the room as she pretended.

Gareth rose so quickly he scattered buttons on the floor. He held his strong hand out to her, and Millicent found her fingers gently encased in his before she could even think of the embarrassment she felt, or the utter relief of finally having the opportunity to be alone with him.

She threw Nell a look, and the cheeky old woman winked at her.

Gareth led Millicent into the bedroom, closed the door firmly behind her, and trapped her against the back, his hands placed flat on the oak, his forearms just above her shoulders. His mouth swooped down on hers, and she absorbed the shock, the welcome, heady relief of his lips against hers, his taste filling her mouth.

Her beast stirred, threatened to wake.

Millicent surprised herself by pushing her cat into the very recesses of her being. For the first time that she could remember, she wanted none of her animal instincts to overwhelm her. She wanted Gareth to make love to her without interference from the dominant nature of her beast.

Her knight pulled his lips from hers and stared into her eyes. “You will allow me to make love to you?”

She blinked in surprise at his shrewdness. “Yes.”

He spun her around, nimbly unbuttoning her bodice while he kissed the back of her neck, sending shivers through her. Millicent turned her head and pressed her cheek against the cool surface of the door while he removed her gown, unlaced her corset strings, untied her petticoats. As he removed the rest of her clothing, he kissed the skin it revealed, the contrast of his warm mouth against the chill air heightening her senses until her concentration narrowed to one extraordinary thing.

Gareth.

He pulled her slightly away from the door so he could work his hands between her body and the polished oak. One hand cupped her breast while the other pressed between her legs. Millicent moaned, leaned back against him, surprised to feel the warmth of his naked skin. The man could shed his clothes faster than humanly possible.

His scent surrounded her, earthy and male and uniquely delicious. He nipped the back of her neck, gently twisted her nipple, and stroked her nub until she trembled for want of him. She pushed backward against his legs, silky skin sheathing hard muscle. She rose up to her tiptoes, wanting to feel the part of him that could bring her such pleasure, demanding he enter her.

He chuckled, low and a bit arrogantly. “Nay, my sweeting. It is my turn to love you, and I will not be rushed.”

Millicent’s heart turned in her chest. She couldn’t fathom why his words affected her so strongly, but she felt her eyes burn and blinked away the ridiculous tears.

His lips wandered to her shoulders, to the middle of her back. His hands continued to stroke, to fondle, to caress, until she felt that singular sensation build inside her again. The one she knew would shatter her into a thousand bits when it exploded.

Anticipation made her pant, made her whisper his name between breaths.

Suddenly his mouth was at the back of her ear, whispering his love for her, his breath hot and making the side of her face tingle. He dropped his hands, and she had to bite her lip to silence a protest. He swept his palms down her arms, captured her hands within his, and pulled them up, placing them on the door in front of her. Then he gently pressed down on her back, maneuvering her hips toward him, until she bent forward, supporting the weight of her upper body on the door.

Bloody hell.

He bent his body over hers, his long blond hair tickling the sides of her face, his hands roaming, cupping her breasts, finding sensitive areas on her skin she hadn’t known existed. Then his fingertips found her nipple again, and his other hand pressed between her inner thighs, gently coaxing her legs open.

Millicent eagerly complied.

He kissed her ear, then her cheek, while his fingertips found her nub again. She rewarded him with a sigh, turned her head sideways, and he captured her mouth with his, a rather fascinating angle that made kissing a different experience. But he was building that pleasure to a peak again, and Millicent started to tremble, found it difficult to catch her breath.

He broke the kiss, pulled his upper body slightly away from hers.

“No…”

But he would not listen. And he silenced her in a way she never could have imagined. He plunged his finger inside her.

“Yes…”

The arrogant man chuckled again. Did things with the rest of his fingers that made her tremble.

“Ah, my love,” he murmured, dropping his hands and standing up behind her. He caressed her bottom, murmuring something about perfection, but Millicent could focus only on his touch, on this aching need he had built inside her. And when she felt the hot, silky length of him finally touch her, spread her apart and plunge inside, she thought she might scream.

She no longer wondered at this new position. She felt only the absolute delight of it. He held her hips, thrusting inside her, taking long, smooth strokes, touching her differently with each one, until he found…

Millicent gasped. A surge of pleasure went through her, the deeper one, the one inside her womb. He stilled, allowed the feeling to wash through her, before starting his rhythm once more, this time bending forward and stroking her nub again, building that pleasure to a new peak. And this time he allowed her to reach it, to tumble over the edge, her body rippling with ecstasy, like a flurry of waves washing through her. And that deeper pleasure joined it, until Millicent lost herself to mindless rapture.

He bent his upper body over hers once again, and whispered, “I love you. I love bringing you pleasure.” And then he straightened, and started to gently move once more, to build her up to the heights of passion again.

And yet again.

Millicent came to earth the third time blessing her were-strength, for surely she would have collapsed. “Gareth,” she pleaded.

“I want to hear you say it.”

“Say what?”

“That you love me.”

Millicent froze, a tangle of emotions welling up inside her. How to speak the truth, when she wasn’t sure of it herself? She closed her eyes. “I love being with you. I love the way you make me feel. I love becoming a part of you like this, even if it’s only for a short time. Please, Gareth.”

He plunged inside her, taking her breath away, her thoughts away. He built her to that peak again, but this time allowed himself to join her, to take his own release the moment she found hers. And Millicent discovered a new joy. That bringing him pleasure increased her own tenfold.

When the world settled around her once again, she realized her arms and legs shook so badly she couldn’t unlock them for fear of tumbling to the floor. But as usual, her knight came to her rescue, scooping her up in his arms and carrying her to the bed, lowering them both to the mattress without ever letting her go. He tucked her head into the hollow of his shoulder, pressed her close to him, allowing her leg and arm to flop over his lean torso.

Millicent could barely move…

Could barely keep her eyes open…

And woke to find him gone.

She sat up, aching in places she didn’t know she could ache in, and pressed her hand against the indentation of his head in the pillow next to hers. She ran her palms across the sheet, imagining she could still feel his warmth in the rumpled bedding.

“I do love you, Gareth,” she muttered to herself, “but don’t you see it doesn’t matter? I cannot keep you trapped within the relic and deprive you of a chance for freedom, and my love isn’t strong enough to break the spell. We are doomed, you and I, and it’s better not to forget that.”

As if to prove the truth of her words, the relic had fallen off her arm. She frantically searched the bedding for the band of silver. It had fallen off the bed onto a thick red carpet, and the moonstone within it winked mockingly at her as she picked it up and slid it over her wrist.