Night's Surrender by Amanda Ashley

ravaged her mouth.
    Moaning softly, she locked her hands around his neck, holding on for dear life as the world she knew disappeared and there was only Nick’s mouth on hers, his hands caressing her.
    When he let her come up for air, she leaned into him, her knees weak, her breathing erratic.
    â€œAre you okay?” he asked, amusement evident in his tone.
    â€œWho, me?” She blinked up at him. “I don’t think I’ll ever be all right again.”
    Nick laughed softly. Abbey was delightful, he thought. Innocent and wanton at the same time, like Eve in the Garden before the fall.
    And she was his.

Chapter Fifteen
    Abbey sat in the kitchen, sipping a cup of hot chocolate, and thinking about her date with Nick the night before. They hadn’t done much, but she had learned a lot. More than she had ever wanted to know, she mused glumly. Mara had turned Nick against his will. Someday, she wanted to hear the whole story of Mara, Nick, and Logan. No doubt their history would play out like a vampire soap opera.
    She had to laugh when she recalled her father popping out of the shadows. Who’s the stalker now, Dad? She had to hand it to Nick, though. He had been polite and respectful, even calling her father—who was centuries younger—sir. She admired that.
    After drinking the last of her cocoa, she rinsed the cup, then headed out the back door. It was time to look after the stock.
    Â 
    Â 
    Abbey stretched her arms out to the side and then over her head. She had been working steadily for the last three hours and she was developing a whopper of a backache. It was time to take a break before she began exercising the horses.
    She glanced at the sky as she took off her gloves and tucked them in the waistband of her jeans. Gray clouds were building in the east; there was a promise of rain in the air.
    Deciding to skip lunch in favor of a short ride before she worked the other horses, she led Freckles out of the barn.
    She was lifting the heavy saddle onto the mare’s back when Nick appeared beside her. Taking the saddle from her hands, he set it in place and fastened the cinch.
    â€œWhat are you doing here?” Abbey asked. “Shouldn’t you be resting?”
    â€œI rest during the day by choice. It’s not a necessity.”
    â€œOh. Do you ride?”
    â€œOf course. Cars are a relatively recent invention, you know. In my day, it was ride or walk.” He glanced at the barn. “You got a horse for me?”
    â€œOne of my Mom’s horses is a remarkably stubborn, high-strung mare mistakenly named Serenity. I haven’t exercised her today. Do you think you can handle her?”
    â€œAre you kidding? I can handle you, can’t I?”
    Abbey punched him in the shoulder before returning to the barn for the troublesome mare.
    Nick watched the horse with interest as Abbey led her out. Serenity was a true black, with one white stocking, and stood a good seventeen hands. The mare eyed him warily as he saddled her, pinned her ears when he took up the reins, tried to bite him when he stepped into the leather.
    He gave a sharp tug on the reins to bring her head around, then jabbed his heels into her flanks. With a toss of her head, the mare took the bit between her teeth and lined out in a dead run.
    Muttering, “Holy cow!” Abbey leapt onto the Appy’s back and gave chase, all the while admiring Nick. He rode with the grace of a born horseman, his body moving in perfect rhythm with that of his mount. Once, he threw back his head and loosed a wild cry filled with the joy of the moment. And she loved him all the more because of it.
    He let the mare run flat out until she broke a light sweat, then he eased her down to a slow lope, then into a trot before reining her to a halt on a grassy knoll.
    Dismounting, he patted the horse’s neck, then looped the reins over a low-hanging branch.
    He was grinning when Abbey drew rein beside him.
    Dismounting, she