Keri Arthur - Circle of Desire

Except that she wanted the chance to explore the promises he made with his touch and his body and his eyes. Even if, in the end, all it amounted to was nothing more than a semi-serious moment.

But such exploration required two willing participants, and right now, there was still only one.

She sighed and stepped past him. "I'm going for a shower." And a cold one at that.

He didn't reply and he didn't stop her, though his gaze burned a hole into her back as she walked away.

Ethan grabbed the door key and strode into the night. He needed to put distance between him and Kat. Needed to cool the thrumming desire to take what she had so readily offered. To finish in anger what she'd started in anger.

The rain lashing his skin was icy, but it did little to cool the ardour pounding through his blood. He'd come as close as he'd ever come to losing control tonight, and it was an experience he didn't want to complete. Not with Kat. Not with anyone. He'd spent most of his adult life fighting that part of him, keeping it fully leashed, and he had no intention of letting all that slip — especially now, when Janie's life was at stake.

He strode across the road and onto the beach. Waves pounded the shoreline, seething whitely in the storm-

swept darkness. He thrust his hands deep in his pockets and stopped on the edge of the foam-kissed sand.

He felt like those waves — tossed a hundred different ways and unable to do anything about it. The past couldn't be altered. Nor could the eeffect it had had on him.

Change was impossible. Because of what he was. Because of the curse that was his heritage.

Kat, with all her knowledge of the supernatural, should have been the one person in the world who could truly understand that.

So why didn't she? Why did she keep on insisting there was more to them than there ever could possibly be?

He raised his face to the sky, letting the stinging rain numb his skin. Wished it could do the same to his mind.

His blood. His need for Kat.

The moon had a lot to answer for, he thought grimly.

And yet, was it the moon's fault he hungered for her in a way he'd never hungered for a woman before? Or that he'd never felt anything as strong as this in his adult life?

Maybe it was just worry for Janie. Maybe it was the loneliness that had haunted him for the last few years.

Maybe it was just a growing distaste of seeking satisfaction from an endless line of faceless women.

Or maybe, as she'd suggested, there was something between them.

But if that were the case, it was a seed that was destined to wither and die. Because of the past. Because of Jacinta, who had stolen his heart and his dreams, only to destroy both.

Be honest with her, Gwen had advised. He could at least do that — offer Kat the truth, or as much of it as she needed to know. Because no matter how much he might hunger for her, there was nothing else left for him to give.

For the first time in many years, he viciously cursed the woman he'd once loved, then turned and headed back to the cabin.

Kat heard the cabin door open. She hitched the comforter closer to her nose and closed her eyes. Soft steps echoed in the living room, then the smell of rain and man entered the bedroom.

She tensed a little, not sure what to expect. Not sure what sort of mood he might be in. But he walked across to the fire not the bed, and the tension slithered away.

The soft rustle of material told her he was undressing.

She resisted the urge to look and tried to keep her breathing soft and even, though she had no doubt he knew she was awake.

When he made no further sound, she opened her eyes. He faced the fire, his hands on the mantle, knuckles white.

The glow of the flames caressed his bare body, making his skin appear almost golden. Tension knotted his shoulders, and his breathing was rapid. Because of the moon. Because of what she'd done. Because of what they hadn't finished.

Guilt slithered through her, but as she gripped the comforter to toss it aside, he said, "Don't move."

She hesitated, then obeyed. "Why?"

"Because there's something I need to tell you. Something I need to explain."

Though surprise rippled through her, she said, "You really don't have to."

"I do, because you're right. There's something between us, and I need to explain why it can be nothing more than what it already is."

No explanation could make her believe that. But as the swirl of his emotions began to invade her senses and fill her mind with the echo of his pain, she wasn't so sure.

He hesitated. "I was seventeen when I met Jacinta."

His voice was soft, but full of remembered wonder. And suddenly she didn't want to hear any more, because already it was obvious that despite her determination to believe otherwise, this woman still had what she never would. She briefly closed her eyes and fought the urge to scream at fate for putting this man in her path when it was far too late for them to build anything together.

"She was three years older than me and had come to my home town for a skiing vacation with several of her friends. She ended up staying long after they'd left."

She briefly closed her eyes. "You don't have to continue."

"I asked her to marry me," he said softly. "She accepted."

It hurt, though God knew it shouldn't have. Especially since he'd warned her going in — not that she'd ever been one to listen to warnings unless they truly suited her.

Her gaze slid to his hands, and she frowned. He wasn't wearing a wedding ring, and she had a suspicion he still would be if they'd actually married. Especially seeing a werewolf gave his heart for life. "So what happened?"

His hurt swam around her, deep enough to drown in.

"She didn't know I was a werewolf. I showed her that night."

"Oh."

"I wish that was all she'd said." Bitterness edged the anguish in his voice.

One piece of the puzzle fell into place. "So that's why you loathe your werewolf half?"

"It lost me the woman I loved. It lost me — " He stopped and took a deep, shuddering breath.

And she knew then there was far more to this story than what he was admitting now. "So she wasn't a werewolf herself?"

"No."

"She never got over the shock of it?"

"No."

And neither, obviously, had he. She rose from the bed and walked up behind him. He didn't move, didn't react, so she simply put her hands around him and pressed her cheek against his back. He was so tense, his muscles quivered.

"If she loved you, surely she would have eventually seen past that."

"She got a court order to prevent me going near her."

The woman was obviously a fool. A fool who didn't know what she had. "I'm sorry, Ethan." Sorry for him.

Sorry for them.

He took another shuddering breath, then turned and wrapped his arms around her. "So am I."

His breath stirred her hair, brushed warmth past her ear.

His body pressed against hers, filling her with radiant longing. It felt so good. So right.

So how come it could be so wrong?

She lifted her face and met his gaze. The sorrow evident in the brown depths tore at something deep inside her.

There wasn't much she could do about it, except love him in the only way he was willing to accept.

She kissed him. It was a slow and sensual exploration that left them both breathless. He brushed a thumb down her cheek and smiled his sexy smile.

"Shall we retire some place more comfortable?"

She raised an eyebrow. "You weren't comfortable here last night?"

His smile went up another notch and damn near smoked her insides. "I'm planning something a little slower than last night, and the bed is definitely more pleasant than a rug on the floor."

"I suppose if you insist — " "I do."

He swept her off her feet and carried her over to the bed.