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“My ears have heard plenty displeasing things since I started tae make use of them, lass.”

Her nose wrinkled, and she cast him a cautious look. “I’m cursed. And everything my curse touches dies. It is why my faither didnae fight hard enough tae save me. ‘Tis because he’d rather be rid of me and had felt that way since my curse brought my maither her death.” The pain was clear in her hoarse, cracking voice. Tears welled in her eyes as she stared at him, and Darach felt his heart tear apart.

His mouth gaped open. He was sure he hadn’t heard correctly. Curse? He pierced his lips closed, then they fell open again before he snapped them shut with the force of his incredulity. He could only imagine how difficult it must have been to open up to him, or anyone for that matter. He wasn’t going to fail her; this damsel deserved much better than that.

“I dinnae matter much tae him except the name,” she continued in a small voice that was barely audible while cracking her fingers as if wanting to pull them out. “I should nae matter that much tae ye too. There is a darkness in me that nae one can extract.” Her lip trembled, and she cast her eyes downward to where her fingers twisted nervously at her skirts. “It is why I’d tried tae do it myself with a knife. But I failed...”

Darach's heart clenched as he realized how she'd gotten the scar. His eyes misted up as he stared at her. He despised seeing sadness on people's faces, but he realized he loathed it even more when it was on Jane's. With one swift move, he got close to her and reached down to take her hands in his.

She was small and delicate. He was disturbed by the idea that her family had been too harsh on her and had pushed her to harm herself. The sight of her tear-filled eyes was a fist to his gut.

“I carry a curse as well, inherited from my faither. ‘Tis nae the end of the world.”

She raised her eyes to his, and her brow wrinkled in confusion. “I’m afraid it is for me. The darkness is a dreadful part that I have tae bear for life.”

“Nay. I carry my darkness, and I ken ‘tis nae as ye say.”

“Why do ye say this?”

He tempered his anger and frustration at everyone who had made her believe this and reminded himself that she needed a gentle hand right now.

“Because there is more than one side tae a man,” he said. “And I plan to show ye.”

Her eyes widened. “Ye do?”

“I do.” Her mouth rounded, and she tried to take a step back. He held her hands tightly in his and pulled her back until she bumped into his chest.

“In fact, I intend tae show ye how two flawed people like ye and I can create something beautiful.”

“Ye would?”

“Aye, Jane, I would.”

She swallowed and stared into his eyes, her own wide and confused. And yet, her voice came out provocative even while it was trembling with excitement.

“When do ye plan tae do this, my laird?”

He bent and swept his mouth over hers. “Right now.”

CHAPTERNINETEEN

Darach kissed her once more as he struggled to find his way to his chambers with Jane in his hands. His tongue slid sensuously over her bottom lip, tempting her to open her mouth. Sheplaced her hands on his chest to steady herself as his kisses assaulted her senses, making her feet unsteady.

“Open yer mouth. Let me taste ye,” he murmured.

The words felt like velvet against her skin. She relaxed her mouth and let him sweep into her, unable to ignore his tongue's probing. It was warm and firm as it caressed her. It was a decadent sensation that she knew she should avoid, but she couldn't. The desire to taste him was too strong.

Jane shivered as her breasts tightened and swelled. An ache bloomed deep in her body, in her most private parts. She could not fathom how he could incite such a response when all he was doing was touching his lips against hers. His palms glided up her waist and then over her shoulders and neck. He framed her face in his hands, and she felt the heat from his touch branding her.

His kiss delighted her so strongly it set her pulse beating in an incessant rhythm. Shyly, she brushed her tongue over his, and he groaned, clearly pleased with the action.

“I’ll undress ye,” he whispered when he broke the kiss, circling his arms around her.

Her mind was fuzzy, and her thoughts muddled. She frowned at him, wary of having her scar exposed to him again, but he shook his head.

“Trust me, Jane. This one time. Trust me tae give ye the most magical feeling ye’ve ever had and tae cherish yer body.”

His promise rattled her to her core. As he lowered her dress over one shoulder, his lips traced a line down her neck and over the curve of her arm. The more skin he exposed, the more he kissed, sliding downward until her dress fell away, nearly naked. He stepped back, staring at her perfect form, as each layer pooled at her feet until she was completely bare.


Tags: Fiona Faris Historical