Moonlight (3 page)

“
It’s nothing to apologise for. It’s been a few months now. I
still miss them so much. Aunty let me come here to relax and
think.”

“
I have seen your parents several times. They were good people.
Your mother especially so. I have only seen a brighter smile on one
person.” He turned away from her and stared at the
fountain.

Who was
that one person?

His
expression hid everything from her, his eyes too dark for her to
read. She wanted to know who the person with a smile brighter than
her mother’s was.

She
pressed her hands into the bench either side of her, fingers
curling over the edge of the seat and holding it.

“
I don’t remember another house around here,” she said, needing
the distraction from her thoughts about her parents so she didn’t
start crying. “You must have to walk a long way to get here. What’s
wrong with your own garden?”

He looked
across at her and placed his hands down on the bench. His little
finger brushed hers, the touch making her forget everything. She
made no move to stop them from pressing against each other. Neither
did he. Her heart picked up again. This time she didn’t blame the
alcohol. There was no denying it was a reaction to him.

“
This place is the most beautiful garden I have seen in a long
time. I like it when I can walk here.” He raised his eyes again,
head tilting back as he looked up at the moon.

She
looked there too. It was turning out to be another beautiful night.
Her eyes lowered and her shoulders sagged when she saw heavy clouds
in the distance. Perhaps it wasn’t going to be such a quiet night
after all.

Wrapping
her arms around herself, she wondered how long she’d have before
the rain reached them.

“
Are you cold?” His melodic voice cut the silence, dulcet tones
caressing her ears.

Before
she could answer his question, he’d removed his black jacket and
placed it around her shoulders. The backs of his fingers brushed
her neck, sending a shiver through her that chased away any cold
she might have been feeling.

“
Won’t you get cold now?” she said, looking him over. The loose
white shirt he wore looked thin, barely hiding the defined shape of
his chest. She could see part of it through the low V down the
front of the shirt. It hadn’t been undone so much last night. She
frowned. Hang on. He was wearing the same clothes as last night.
Did he always dress this way?

He shook
his head and smiled. “I do not feel the cold.”

His dark
eyes held hers, mesmerising and sending fire into her veins. She
didn’t feel the cold when she looked at him. There was only intense
heat.

The moon
disappeared.

The wind
picked up.

The
heavens opened and, for the second time that night, she
shrieked.

She’d
barely even made it to her feet when his hand grabbed hers and
tugged her towards the house. The rain drenched her in seconds, fat
drops that pounded the grass loud enough for her to clearly hear. A
gust of wind caught his jacket and it fell from her shoulders. She
stopped and turned to grab it. His hand pulled on hers before he
stopped too. He picked up the jacket and ran with her. She laughed
and held her hand above her head, trying to shield herself from the
downpour.

Her
fingers were cold and stiff, making it difficult to open the twin
glass doors. She rushed inside when they gave and then stopped when
she realised that he’d let go of her hand. She turned and looked at
him where he stood on the patio in the rain.

“
I have to go,” he said.

The smile
fell from her face.

“
Why? Come in for a while,” she said, walking back to the doors
and him. He couldn’t leave now. Things had just been getting
interesting. She’d been starting to find out more about her mystery
man, and now he was going to run away with the rain, leaving him
more mysterious than ever.

She
grabbed his hand and gave it a gentle tug, playfully trying to
convince him to come in. They could dry off in front of the fire
and keep talking. She wanted to keep talking to him.

“
I am sorry. I wish that I could... but it just isn’t
possible.” There was a hint of pain in his eyes that made her go
still and stop pulling on his hand.

She
stepped closer to him and then stumbled forwards when he tugged on
her hand, pulling her back out into the rain.

Her eyes
shot wide when his other arm curled around her waist and his lips
crushed hers in a rough, passionate kiss that melted her heart. Her
eyelids dropped and she leaned into him, holding his hand tight as
her lips danced against his, matching his fervour. Her heart raced.
Her body trembled. Every inch of her hummed with the pleasure and
heat of his kiss.

His hand
left hers and he turned away. She grabbed his wrist and he looked
back at her.

“
Why do you have to go?” she said, breathless from the thrill
of such a stolen kiss. She gave him a shaky smile. “The storm will
pass.”

His eyes
held a wounded look that cut her to the core and made her smile
disappear again. He really was going to kiss her and leave
her.

“
It is not possible,” he whispered. “I do not have time to
explain.”

He raised
the arm she was holding up and took hold of her hand. She stared
blankly at him as he kissed the back of it. His eyes met hers, full
of regret, and then he was walking away into the storm.

She stood
there a moment, confused and shocked that he’d left her. It didn’t
make any sense. Why would a man kiss her like that, with so much
intensity and hunger, and then leave? If he was playing hard to
get, he was doing a good job of it. No. She’d seen the hurt in his
eyes and heard the honesty in his voice. He’d wanted to stay and
for some reason he couldn’t.

The rain
crept down her neck. She shivered and went into the house, closing
the doors behind her. There had to be a reason he couldn’t
stay.

Slumping
into the armchair beside the fire, she stared at the flames. Her
thoughts remained firmly with the man. Why hadn’t he had time to
explain?

What was
it he needed to tell her?

***

Ashlyn
wandered around the garden. The shrubs and bushes turned golden in
the evening light. Sunset painted the wisps of cloud crimson and
pink, edged with thin strips of purest gold. Above her the sky was
already darkening.

The
weather had been finer today, but she’d still spent the whole of it
indoors. She’d rediscovered her passion for drawing, although only
one subject came to mind. The mystery man. She hadn’t captured him
well in any of her paintings or sketches. If he visited again
tonight, she planned on asking him to sit for her so she could draw
him properly and do him justice. She wanted to capture his handsome
face and way of dressing. She wanted to see him again.

Turning
the corner that led away from the main garden where the fountain
was, she paused when she saw a statue in the middle of the grass.
She rarely ventured this side of the house. There were no doors
from the house and no patio. There was only grass and a thin line
of trees that separated the garden from the fields next door. Now
that she stood there, she remembered coming here during her last
visit.

She
walked to the statue, folding her arms across her deep purple
jumper to keep herself warm. The light was fading now, the night
creeping in. She walked around so she could see the face of the
statue and then raised her eyes up to look at it.

She
froze.

It was
unmistakeably him.

It was
her mystery man.

How?

She
stepped back and almost fell over a bench behind her. Collapsing
down onto it, she stared up at the face of the statue. He was even
dressed the same. Everything about him was exactly the same—hair,
face, clothes.

Just what
was going on?

Was this
how she knew his face and why he felt so familiar?

Statues
didn’t come to life.

She
frowned, her head aching as she tried to make sense of everything.
A statue couldn’t walk and talk. It just wasn’t possible. Maybe she
was dreaming or imagining it was him. She’d been thinking about him
so much that he was etched on her mind, his visage easy to recall.
Perhaps she was placing his face on the statue. She looked harder
at it.

No, it
wasn’t her imagination.

It really
was him.

The night
fell and still she sat there, mesmerised and confused by the
statue. She couldn’t remember exactly what the statue had looked
like during her last visit. It was possible that her aunt had put
up a new statue. But why one of the man? God. Her eyes widened.
Perhaps they were lovers. She laughed at how ridiculous that
sounded. He definitely wasn’t her aunt’s type, and he’d kissed
her.

Still,
there had to be a reason she was sitting in her aunt’s garden
staring at a statue of a man that had kissed her.

The moon
rose from behind the trees. Every hair on her body rose along with
it as the light touched the statue and it twinkled. Thin ribbons of
swirling glitter swept around it from foot to head. He moved and
colour crept into the pale stone.

She fell
off the back of the bench and landed on her ass, still staring at
the statue as it came to life.

Her whole
body shook and her heart pounded when he looked at her.

She was
on her feet before he could blink and running for the other side of
the house. He gave chase. His hand caught her wrist and stopped her
near the corner. She trembled, fear crushing her insides and making
her struggle against his hold. His fingers tightened and then he
pulled her into his arms. They wrapped around her, restraining her.
She struggled harder, pushing against his chest and trying to
wriggle free.

“
Ashlyn, stop,” he said, his voice laced with panic that she
felt inside her. “I am not going to hurt you. I can
explain.”

Her
breath came out as short pants that made her head spin and her fear
increase. She tried to get free but he only held her tighter,
stopping her. A voice of reason at the back of her panicked mind
said that he’d wanted to explain something last night and he was
promising to explain it now. Was this what he’d needed to tell her?
He was a statue.

“
Wait,” he said when she struggled again and almost broke free.
“You have to listen to me. I need to explain.”

She could
hear that need in his voice. It was calming, soothing but edged
with fear. Forcing herself to calm down, she reined in her fear and
panic and breathed slow, hoping to regain control completely. His
grip on her loosened and she stepped free of his arms. Her eyes met
his. They held so much fear. He needed to explain. She needed to
hear what he had to say.

“
Two centuries ago I was cursed to spend each day and night as
a statue. The woman who cursed me said that she loved me. I know
that this sounds ridiculous, but you cannot deny what you saw. I
was a statue and I may become a statue again before
dawn.”

It did
sound ridiculous, but right now, it was making a lot of sense and
was chasing her panic away. Anything was possible after all. If he
said that someone had cursed him, then it explained why he turned
to stone.

“
I have waited patiently for a woman who could lift the curse,”
he whispered and his fingers brushed her cheek in a light caress.
She blinked and kept looking into his eyes, needing to see the
feelings and the honesty in them. “I waited for a relation of the
lady who had cursed me, one who would save me from this life
stranded as a statue. Seven years ago, you walked into my life, and
on a moonlit night you read my name and asked me why I looked so
solemn. I longed to reply, but could not.”

Her eyes
widened. She remembered that night and his name.

“
Tristan Newell,” she whispered to his chest and then met his
eyes again. “I remember you.”

He smiled
but it was short lived.

“
On a second moonlit night, you returned and touched my hand.”
He touched hers and she again remembered the moment he was speaking
of. She’d felt so sorry for him. There had been something about
him, a look in his distant eyes, that had made her feel such strong
emotions. She hadn’t thought about how strange it was. She’d been
moved to touch him. “From that night on, whenever the moon is full,
I walk this world a free man, but not free. I am still stranded
here within the house’s grounds, bound to be trapped as a statue
for eternity.”

“
I released you... is that what you’re saying? By touching you,
I broke the bond to a degree. If I released you to this extend, I
must be able to free you entirely, somehow.” She held his hand, no
longer frightened but excited. She could help him, she was sure of
it.

“
I have spent these seven years thinking of you... wanting to
feel your touch again and see your warm smile... and now I have,”
He pointed to the sky. It had clouded over, “the moonlight no
longer needs to touch me. I am sure it is because of your
kiss.”