...At that moment the clouds parted to reveal a waxy moon. It shed its pale light over a clearing that spread as far as the eye could see, and reflected off the silver waters of a small pond and sleek river. A million points of moving luminosity floated in front of an open structure that blazed with light. On either side of it were other structures, connected by covered walkways. Together they formed a three-quarter frame for the magical landscape.

Blinking dazzled eyes, Constance followed Tanuki-san toward her new home. As they drew closer, the fireflies drifted away. White flowers scattered across the lawn caught the pale moonlight and intensified it. The sound of quiet laughter drifted from the house. The serene beauty of the scene was seductive.

Constance’s fingers brushed against the supporting post as she stepped onto the walkway. The wood was smooth, glossy, and cool. A splashing sound brought her head around to the right. A goldfish leaped from the pond, flipping its long tailfin before slipping back into the water.

Her lips curving upward, Constance inhaled deeply. The rich fragrances of rose, gardenia, and peony, along with others she couldn’t identify, drifted heavily on the night air. The strain and uncertainty of the last few days caught her all at once. Her eyelids fluttered and she swayed on her feet.

“Konbonwa, Constance-chan. Welcome to my home.”

The deep voice, and the arm that slipped about her waist, brought Constance’s eyes open. Her breath caught. Dark eyes that held a hint of green-yellow fire in their depths held and searched her own.

In that instant she became aware of her body as she had never experienced before. Her nipples tingled, tightening and pulling; the hard points rubbing against her soft cotton undergarments. Creamy moistness pooled between her thighs. Low in her belly a throbbing ache began. She felt as though she were a string pulled suddenly taut and plucked. She vibrated within.

She trembled, confused, yet strangely excited as she lay in the baron’s loose grasp. This was no melancholic. This was a man of uncommon attraction in the prime of his power.

Saionji was not handsome. At least not handsome as she had come to understand the word. His brow was too broad and his chin too narrow and pointed. “Fox” was the word that sprang to mind in looking at him. But the fathomless eyes with their slight tilt and the sensual curve of his lips made her stomach clench. An incandescence haloed him, unnatural and yet a part of him.

When he raised her to a standing position, the impulse to erase the mere inches that separated them and rub her swelling breasts against his broad chest while thrusting her aching nether regions against his own was almost impossible to deny.

She drew a deep breath to steady herself and instead inhaled an intense, masculine scent that mixed with the night rose and poppy. “Saionji-san,” she breathed.

“You are even more beautiful than your photograph.” As the Danshaku’s words caressed her spirit, he reached out to caress her face, following the curve of her cheek and jaw.

At his touch Constance felt her muscles go lax. Her eyelids drooped. Some small part of her tried to feel outrage, tried to rouse her to indignation that he should manhandle her in such a way on such short acquaintance. But the warm strength of his hand against her skin and the throbbing between her legs swept away all thought. Was he not her husband? No matter that they had just met.

His finger traced the air above her lips. “So young. So innocent. Is she not perfect, Old Badger?”

His words and the affirmative of the until then forgotten Tanuki-san barely penetrated the hot fog that enveloped Constance. Her entire attention was focused on the digit that hovered above her lips. She wanted to feel it pressed against her mouth, a mouth that felt swollen and strange.

She licked her lips.

The finger dropped, following the path of her tongue with deliberate slowness. “So soft.”