Written In Stone

your… not on your feet." He assessed the situation, trying not to laugh out loud.
    "Shh," Angie admonished him. "If Mrs. Waterston hears you, I'll never hear the end of it." Gavin covered his mouth as if the effort not to laugh out loud was too much for him. "Oh, stop it!" Angie hissed. "Just get over here and help me, for pity's sake."
    Gavin stepped carefully around the rose bushes, hiked one leg over the white picket fence, and then wrapped his arms around Angela's waist, plucking her off the banister, where she found herself stuck. As soon as she was steady in his arms, she looked up and their eyes locked. Gavin felt his heart skip a long beat, as Angie licked her lips.
    "My… my chair is over there," she whispered hoarsely. Gavin nodded, but stood where he was, showing no inclination to put her in the chair.
    He felt himself slipping, spiraling into unknown territory. Like his last name, he was definitely as hard as stone now, and he wanted her with a desperation he'd never before known. Wearing only the thin nightgown, he could feel every sensuous curve of her body, her muscles, and how toned she was. He expected her muscles to be flabby, to have begun to atrophy after two long years in a wheelchair, but she was firm where she should be, and oh, so soft everywhere else. Her nipples were evident through the thin material and Gavin felt his breath catch.
    Gavin felt his fangs emerge; they only did that when ready to sink into someone's throat, ready for a kill. Never before had they unsheathed when he was sexually aroused, and that pulled him out of the trance.
    He dragged his eyes away from hers and gently set her over the railing and into her wheelchair. He cleared his throat. "There you are, Mrs. Elliott, safe and sound," he said, hearing the gravel in his voice.
    "Yes," she replied a little unsteadily. Gavin wondered if she were as affected as he. "Thank you, Mr. Stone."
    "You are welcome, Mrs. Elliott," he answered stiffly. "I had better take my leave now. Good night."
    "Um, Mr. Stone," Angela stopped him in his tracks. "What on earth were you doing out on a stroll this late at night?" He smiled charmingly at her and heard her heart flip.
    "I just concluded some business and, it being such a fine night, decided to walk. What were you doing out this time of night?"
    Angela grinned sheepishly. "I couldn't sleep and came out for a breath of fresh air, it being such a fine night and all. Then I saw the moonflowers in bloom and wanted one. I was sure I could reach it if I held the railing when I stood, then leaned over and… well, you saw the result."
    "That, I did," he agreed. "Was this the flower you went to all the trouble for?" He plucked a moonflower and held it between his thumb and finger, twirling it back and forth. He reached toward her and let the petals caress her cheek.
    "Yes." She nodded as she accepted the flower.
    "It doesn't compare to your beauty, Mrs. Elliott. Good night."
    He tucked his hands into his pockets and strolled off, but not before hearing her whisper, "Goodnight."
    ~ * ~
    "Mother? Father?" Gavin called out as he opened the door to the family home. "Where are you? I know you aren't in bed."
    "Gavin, for Heaven's sake! What are you doing?" His mother appeared at the top of the stairs, pulling her housedress around her. Her hair was disheveled and her face glowing. His father appeared behind her, moments later, pulling his robe around him, and his feet were bare.
    Gavin shook his head and grinned. "I guess you were in bed after all," he muttered.
    Gav looked amused while his wife covered her mouth with one hand. "That'll be enough young man," his father drawled, the corner of his mouth curving. "Show respect for your elders."
    "Absolutely," Gavin said and went into the study. His parents came down the stairs, following their son.
    "It's three in the morning, son, is everything all right?" His mother looked concerned.
    "I don't know if it is or not, Mother." Gavin poured a brandy for all three of them and handed a glass to each. "I've met a woman…"
    "Oh, Gav, our boy has met someone," his mother said, squealing with delight.
    "Hold on, Mattie, let him finish." Gav quieted his wife.
    "As I was saying," Gavin shot a look to his mother, "I met a woman. I won't go into the details, but as she was in my arms…"
    "He's met his mate, Gav!" Mattie squealed again.
    "Mother, please! Allow me to finish."
    "I'm sorry, Gavin. I just have visions of grandchildren running through my