Prologue
It had been a bad day. One of his worst yet. Kiera sighed, wanting nothing more than to lay her head on the table and give in to weariness.
But her ritual had become more than a game, a harmless pastime. She knew at times the thought of their special nights was the only thing that kept him going. She took a deep breath and squared her shoulders.
Closing her eyes, she fingered the contents of the ancient mahogany box. Her hand settled on an irregular fragment, smooth on one side and rough on the other. She opened her eyes and examined it. How odd. Unlike the other contents of the chest, it was neither stone nor crystal, but a strip of tree bark.
Kiera lit a candle scented with her special blend of essential oils then put her palms together and bowed her head.
Night had fallen, but a full moon threw shadows on the flagstone path.
She heard drums beating then voices chanting, faint and low. So faint she might have been imagining it. Though the words were in a tongue she’d never heard before, her body responded to the primitive beat, swaying to the rhythm as she headed down the path.
Blooming white mountain laurel framed an ancient adobe building in the center of the walled garden. The massive wooden door stood open, beckoning her.
Flickering candles set in rough clay saucers lined the entryway. The vast chamber beyond was bare, save for a scarred wooden table and a maple rocking chair sitting in the center of the room.
Dusty shelves filled with row upon row of fragile scrolls lined the walls. She circled the room, touching them at random. As she did, images poured into her head, accompanied by snatches of long-forgotten conversations and the scent of exotic spices.
She whispered an invocation for guidance then spotted the book. Thick vellum pages bound by a cover made of wide strips of bark from a white birch tree.
She sank into the curved seat of the rocking chair, opened the cover, and began to read.
***
“You’re later than usual,” he snapped then regretted his petulant tone.
“I’m sorry, my love. I made us a special drink tonight. Ginseng tea, with a splash of moonshine straight from the mountains.”
Kiera handed him an earthenware mug then sank to the floor at his feet. Tonight she wore a long full skirt and a fawn colored suede vest loosely tied with thin leather strips. The vest barely contained her lush breasts, and he decided he’d tease himself and her by slowly undoing the laces one by one as the evening progressed.
He took a healthy swig. “Ginseng my ass!” he howled. “This is liquid fire! What did you do, fill the cup with moonshine and top it off with a spoonful of tea?”
She laughed. “I figured a tough guy like you needed a kick tonight.”
“And you need your sweet little bottom paddled for pulling a stunt like that.”
She arched an eyebrow. “You mean like you did when you caught me breaking into your cabin?”
Her feet were bare, and he amused himself imagining how he’d order her across his lap and then lift her skirt inch by inch, exposing the curvy bottom he knew would be equally bare.
“My cabin?”
“The one you built in the mountains. Don’t you remember?”
He paused, leaning back in his chair. There would be plenty of time to play out his scenario. First, he’d let his arousal build listening to one of Kiera’s erotic tales. To Reid, his wife of twenty years was sexier and more desirable tonight than on the day he’d first laid eyes on her.
For many of those years, she kept dark secrets from him, hungers she’d never dared to confess. Only recently, through the stories she spun, had she exposed her long-buried desires. He found this hidden side to the woman he thought he knew so well enthralling. Inside her lived a brazen temptress whose wickedly hot fantasies got his cock rock hard. Sometimes only the thought of these nights gave him the strength to go on.
Reid wasn’t sure if his wife truly was uncovering memories of past lives they’d spent together. To him, it didn’t matter. All he knew was that he loved the new Kiera more and more every day, loved the freedom her honesty had given to both of them. After listening to her erotic tales, he found ways to bring them to life, satisfying needs neither of them had dared to admit in the past.
Through her stories he’d discovered Kiera’s most shameful secret. She hungered for the thrill of submitting to a dominant alpha male. Reid was determined to give his woman what she desperately craved.
He lifted the cup to his lips and took a sip. The drink ran down his throat like a stream of molten lava, but this time he was expecting it. He welcomed the fire it set off in his belly. A fire to match the one his wanton wife would soon set off in his loins.
“Of course I remember,” he lied. “The question is, do you? I want you to tell me about it. In detail. And you’d better not leave anything out.”
He pulled the wooden paddle from where he’d tucked it against the arm of his chair and cracked it across his palm. Her eyes widened, and the faintest smile appeared on her lips.