Why Ask For The Moon?

May 2002 - www.novelbooksinc.com

They walked down the street in silence for several moments until Kian spoke. "You shouldn’t have come to the market." He was really angry now. "I told you I was sorry for kissing you yesterday. I shouldn’t have done that and today, well, that shouldn’t have happened either. Now that I know who you are, I have to put any thoughts I had about you behind me. We’ll never be more to one another other than strangers."

She stopped walking and turned on him. "You really relish feeling inferior to me, don’t you, Mr. McKitterage?" Her tone was sharp. "I think you love to wallow in self-pity."

"I don’t know what you’re talking about."

Her nostrils flared. "Oh, yes you do. You’re a downright snob, just like I said before!" She spun around and walked away.

He caught up with her, grabbed her arm. "I’m the son of Irish immigrants. My father died before I knew him. My mother-my mother died, too. I’ve had to work and support myself since then. I wasn’t born with a silver spoon in my mouth like you. How can you call me a snob?"

She raised her chin and snapped, "Because I just did." She stomped away again.

He followed her. "Have you ever been told to use the back door like a servant, Miss Montgomery? Or have you ever been offered a quarter as if you should be grateful for it, when you didn’t ask for anything?

Whirling around, she said in a tight, angry voice. "I can’t help the way my mother is. I came to apologize to you for her rudeness. If you can’t accept that I’m sincerely ashamed of her, then you truly are a snob!" The rays of the setting sun streaked her hair with red and honey-gold highlights. The fresh pink tinge on her cheekbones was a gentle contrast to the luminescent quality of her porcelain skin. Even angry, Iris Montgomery was stunning. And she was hurt. He could tell by the slight tremble in her lower lip.

He released an exasperated sigh. "Thank you for being so sensitive, Miss Montgomery. I accept your apology. Now I’d better get you home. It’s growing late."

Iris looked up at him from beneath her long lashes. Kian felt a strange tug at his heart when her eyes met his. She smiled and the tug blossomed into an ache of longing. He took her elbow and they walked.

"My parents are out for the evening," she said. "They won’t be home for hours." They turned the corner. "Will you sit with me awhile and talk?"

They approached the Montgomery mansion. He shook his head. "I can’t go much nearer than this to your house again. If your mother ever found out you were out here with me, she’d disown you."

Iris laughed. "We can go this way," she whispered. She took his hand and pulled his arm. "Through this alley. There’s a cupola on the rear grounds. We can sit there and talk." Her eyes glittered. "It’s very dark and quiet back there."

She was impossible to resist. Kian didn’t want to resist her, so he let her pull him down the back alley. A gate swung open when she pushed it and they stood on Montgomery property.

"Ssshhh." She put her finger to her lips. Kian’s heart pounded violently against his ribs. He felt an arousal begin to tighten his loins. The urge to kiss her, to touch her, to do more with her than he’d ever done with a woman before boiled like molten steel through his veins. This secret liaison was wrong, yet it was powerfully exciting. He was asking for more trouble than he could handle, but, helpless to resist her, he followed Iris up the steps to the cupola and sat beside her on the bench.

The house was visible through the trees. Several windows, lit from within, glowed warmly. The grounds were quiet, save for the roar of hot blood in his ears.
"See?" She smiled. "No one knows we’re out here."
He composed himself. She stared at him, her eyes all bright and trusting. Kian swallowed the lump in his throat.

"What would you like to talk about, Miss Montgomery?"

Iris took his hand. His skin was warm, as was hers. A wave of longing deep within her made her acutely aware of places in her body that she hadn’t been aware of before. Iris looked at his beautifully chiseled face and smiled.

"Would you please call me Iris?" She thought she would perish from desire, right here in the cupola, if he didn’t soon kiss her.

He released a long breath and then took her in his arms. "Iris," he murmured against her lips. "Oh, Angel Girl."

"Kian. Yes, Kian," she cried softly. Her fingers wove through his hair. His name, it was so wonderful to just utter his name.

A thousand hungry kisses were exchanged, sending Iris to paradise. They nipped each other’s lips and touched their tongues together shyly, trying to understand the madness driving them to such a frantic abandonment of all good sense. Iris tasted him, touched him and wanted all of him.

Kian breathed as if he’d just run a foot race on the Fourth of July. He was rock hard. He raised his hand to the side of her breast, which pressed against his chest. The only way to get rid of this ache was to touch her everywhere.

The sweet tension growing between them kept building until Iris knew his kisses were no longer the only thing she wanted. There was more, so much more. She wanted to experience everything he had to teach her about making love.

Kian broke away from her with a groan. His breathing was ragged, difficult. Iris nodded, encouraging him to continue. She felt cold and lonely without his warm arms around her.

"Kian?" She took his hand. "Why did you stop?"

He moved away. "We shouldn’t do this."

"Yes, we should."

WHAT THE REVIEWERS ARE SAYING ABOUT WHY ASK FOR THE MOON...

In WHY ASK FOR THE MOON? Ms. George blends romance, scandal, conspiracy, murder and more into a captivating read with surprises on every page. The pace of the story begins strong and increases with the intensity of Iris and Kian's romance and the events surrounding them. I look forward to reading more from this talented storyteller! -- www.theromancereadersconnection.com

...George’s WHY ASK FOR THE MOON? is an involving tale of love against the odds. -- www.romance-news.com

...a pleasant way to spend a lovely spring afternoon. -- www.romantictimes.com

Author Elizabeth Taylor George is skilled at offering characters with an inherent innocence that matches the lyrical, almost whimsical, style of her storytelling...the story is both poignant and entertaining, and readers will enjoy this jaunt in an interesting period in American history. When you settle down with this one, think Gibson Girls and streetcars and get ready to ponder the hero’s question, WHY ASK FOR THE MOON? -- www.romrevtoday.com

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