"Not in a long time. I've a collection of music boxes, though. Come choose your song." He led me to the back of the study where along one wall were ten large music boxes. Each had glass-encased dancers-some of them had elaborately dressed couples in miniature ballrooms, others were of a man and a woman alone, in a room, in a garden. One of the couples appeared to be standing in a black void; I bent closer to see why, and saw tiny jewels pinpointed the black velvet.

"Now why did I know you would be drawn to 'Moonlight Sonata'?" He turned a crank. The couple began to swirl around the box to Beethoven's haunting tune. Then he set his cane aside, lit a match, and bent beneath the music box. Suddenly the couple was swirling amid hundreds of tiny stars as light set the jewels aglow.

I knelt next to him so that I could see. "Oh, how beautiful."

He leaned closer. "All the constellations are there. Leo. Sagittarius." Directing me with his finger he pointed them out.

"Orion," I said, finding another.

"Cassiopeia." His voice deepened as he spoke, and on the glass he traced the star pattern with his finger, making me feel as if he had brushed me with his touch instead. The fire inside me spread to every unmentionable place. My breasts tingled; my chemise shrank, everything else heated.

"I love this. Who made it?" I asked, forcing my mind to function.

"I commissioned a jeweler. The stars are diamonds." I glanced at him, as I heard a note of yearning in his voice. His gaze was intent on the dancers. I then realized that the couple dancing beneath the stars, so free and graceful, was something he would never truly be able to do.

"Would you like to dance?" I asked, before sanity and propriety could stop my heart from speaking.

He stood abruptly, grabbing his cane. "You know that's impossible."

I rose and put my hand on his arm before he could turn away. "Why?"

He didn't answer, just glared at me, telling me that the reason was self-evident. When he tried to ease from my touch, I tightened my grasp. "What if I wanted to sing, but didn't have a perfect voice? Should I never sing? Should I never let my heart feel the joyfulness of song?"

"Of course not."

"Then I ask you again. Would you like to dance?"

He stared at me for a long moment, his green gaze searching. I held my breath waiting, realizing that more than anything else I wanted to dance with him. I wanted all of those things Bridget and I had wanted the author to write about the queen and her vampire.

Turning toward me, he slid a hand behind my back and I drew a hopeful breath. I moved my hand from his arm to his shoulder and set my other hand atop his that held the cane. Then I smiled up at him. "I should think swaying back and forth-"

He leaned down and kissed me deeply then eased my head against his chest. "Cassie," he whispered as he drew me closer to him then began to turn slowly. After a few steps, he dropped the cane and wrapped his arms tighter around me. I stepped into the embrace, turning my cheek to press closely to his heart, hearing its beat echo in mine.

His steps were halting, but the movement made my heart sing and my soul dance.

"Sean." I tiptoed and softly pressed a kiss to his lips. At the last second, I realized I wasn't tall enough and pushed up onto my tip-toes. I must have misjudged my balance, or the wine might have had a hand in the matter. Whatever the reason, I fell against him with all of my weight when he was in mid step.

"Damn." He struggled to regain the balance that completely crumbled from beneath us. We landed on the study floor with a thud. Him below. Me on top.

"Good heavens. Are you hurt?" I reached up to feel the back of his head.

Whatever I said or did ignited him. His hands grasped my bottom and shifted me up to where his mouth could cover mine, and all thought ceased as my world exploded into a universe of sensation and pleasure.

Kisses melded with caresses until my breaths grew ragged and my body ached. He rolled to his side then moved on top of me, sliding his legs intimately between mine.

Leaning on one elbow, he kissed me again, leaving me gasping for air, fueling my want to a fevered state. My tongue sought thirstily for his. My hands went to his chest, but instead of pushing him back, I slid them along the warm silk until I felt the supple heat of his skin. That wasn't enough; I moved further, burying my fingers into the soft texture of his dark hair, growing delirious on his drugging scent.

I thought of my dream, the scandalous sensations that had heated me then, and found little comparison to the true fire Sean made me feel. I gave myself up to the forbidden passion, to know him in a way I would never be able to once I left the castle and went back to my staid life of advising other women to never do what I did now.

Running my fingers through the silken hair of his left temple, I felt the long ridge of a scar across his scalp, and pulled him closer to me, feeling with all of my heart what he must have suffered. Before I could say anything about it, he spoke.

"Roses will never be the same. You've burned the fragrance into my soul," he rasped, dragging his lips from my mouth to kiss his way down my throat, stealing away my thoughts. His fingers deftly unfastened the buttons of my dress then pulled down my chemise, freeing more and more of me to the hot pleasure of his tongue.

His hand slid beneath my skirts, between my legs, and caressed me intimately, ripping all thought from my mind. All I could do was feel as he suckled the aching tips of my breasts, like nipping lush berries before they could disappear. My hips pressed willfully to the heat of his muscled thigh and the stroke of his hand.

I groaned at unbelievable pleasure.

He moved to the side, loosening my drawers and pulling them down then his as well. My heart thundered even harder as the silk of his pants and the burning heat of his flesh slid up the insides of my thighs and his rigid arousal pressed against me, seeking entry. I froze at the sensation.

"Shh." He brought his lips back to mine and drank deeply. "What happened before doesn't matter. I won't hurt you." He slid his fingers along my sensitive flesh, finding one spot that sent lightning through me and mercilessly rubbing his fingers over and over no matter how my hips arched to him. Just as I thought I would scream, he brought his mouth to my breast and suckled hard. I cried out, shuddering with pleasure as stars blazed before my eyes.

"That's only the beginning of pleasure, Cassie." He leaned over me, covering me with his body. His hips thrust and his arousal pressed to me, sliding along my intimate parts rather than inside of me. I pressed to him when the hard heat of him touched that so sensitive place. Then he froze as the murmur of voices filtered into the room.

"He'll come tomorrow night, Ashton, if we have to drag him along."

"He can't deny us one party. He doesn't have to know about the women."

The faint voices were followed by a sharp rap on the French doors, the French doors on the other side of the table we lay in front of. "Lights are on. He has to be in his study. Hey, Killdaren!"

"Oh. My. God." I tried to move.

"Don't move," Sean rasped harshly. "The table is between us. They can't see us. Not unless you move."

"I can't just lay here like this and pray that two men who are less than a dozen feet away are going to miraculously disappear."

Another knock, this time hard enough to rattle the door. "I say, Ashton. Is that roses on the table?"

I was perilously close to panic.

"And two goblets of wine. Warwick is right, he's got a wench."

"A cleaning maid."

"When you've been alone as long as he, any wench will do."

"Let's go find one ourselves." Their voices faded with their footsteps.

Sean groaned. "I am going to kill them."

"I won't know. I'll have already expired."

"It's not true. That's not why I am here with you. I have been alone for a long time, but that isn't why I want you. There is something very special about you, and it's not just your beauty, Cassie, or my attraction. It's deeper. I can't explain it and I can't stay away from you. Believe me, I've tried. I want you and need you more than I want life itself." The raw need in his voice brought my embarrassed gaze to him, and I felt the depth of his desire all the way to my soul. Yet, my heart and mind were in so much turmoil, and shame had me in a choking grip.

"Please. This isn't right. I have to go. I'm sorry." To my embarrassment, tears filled my eyes and kept coming.

"Shh. All is well." I felt him turn. "They're gone. Come on." I'm not sure how, but within minutes I was upright and dressed, his deft fingers accomplishing the miracle. "I'll take you to the stairs."

"No. Please. Just let me go. I need to be alone." I still couldn't meet his gaze again.

He stepped back and I hurried to the door and left. I ran down the corridor, leaving his wing. Tears blinded me. I made it to the kitchens, but couldn't go up the stairs yet. I couldn't let Bridget see me like this. I turned to the laundry room and ran into one of the bathing stalls Sean had had built for us, for me. And gave in to my tears as I huddled in the dark, so confused that I didn't even know why I was crying, or for what I was crying.

Dim light flooded the room. Glancing up, I saw Sean set a candle on the edge of the tub. Then he pulled me into his arms and held me tightly. "Cassie. Please, don't do this to yourself. There is no shame in beauty, and tonight was beautiful. More than I ever believed possible. Don't let whatever you are feeling take that away from us."

Drawing deep breaths, I clung to his words, calming myself. "I'm sorry. I don't understand what is happening to me."

"Nothing to be sorry for. Go to bed and in the morning you'll be able to think clearer."

I nodded, finally able to meet his gaze.

He smiled gently, but in his eyes I saw a stark pain.

"I've hurt you," I said.

"No. They hurt you, but I'm not sorry for the interruption. I can't marry you, and I wrongly let my desires convince me that I could disregard consequences and feelings and take what I so desperately wanted."

Considering his place in society and mine, I'd known marriage wasn't possible, but the heavy weight of that reality still pressed painfully upon my heart. I, too, had wrongly thought that I could abandon what I knew to be right. "I don't want it to be this way."

"There is no other way. I live in the shadow of a curse. And it will die with me."

"What do you mean?"

"You've heard the rumors. The Dragon's Curse. When twins are born into the Killdaren line, one will kill the other."

"That can't be real. It's just...a legend...like that of a vampire."

"No. It's not. Eight years ago I would have agreed with you, nothing could have made me believe I'd kill my brother. But during that fight I wanted Alex to die. And he wanted me dead as well. The murderous seed inside us will never be visited upon the next generation."

"That was just drink and...and grief. He saved your life."

"The fight was fate. And he should have let me die. Just as it was fate tonight that things between us should end before going too far."

Taking my hand, he urged me to the door. "Go to sleep. There is nothing else to say."

Tears were blurring my eyes again. I wanted, needed to argue against what he'd said, but I couldn't put the words together. I needed to think, so I left. He didn't follow me from the room. Reaching the stairs, I stood there for a few minutes, unable to leave, not until I told him that it was the most beautiful night of my life and that I didn't believe in curses. Turning back, I went to the door of the laundry to tell him, but my voice died in my throat.

He stood naked in the tub, pouring what had to be ewers of cold water over himself. The flickering light of the candle revealed rivulets of water streaming over his head and broad shoulders, running down through the mat of hair on his chest and following a tapering dark line to his groin, which still burgeoned with arousal. He wasn't much different from Zeus anywhere. Once I absorbed that, I saw the jagged scar on his left hip and thigh, and winced at the pain he'd suffered, and from the agonized groan he emitted, still suffered.

I left before he saw me. I wanted to go to him, but I wouldn't again. Not until I knew that, no matter what, I wouldn't leave him.

Chapter Fifteen.

"What's the matter with ya today, Cassie? Ack, I know the queen's story is a sad one, but it's just a story. Nothing we need to upset ourselves over."

Leaning forward, I let my forehead rest on the cabinet I was polishing, even though I knew I'd have to polish the spot again. "For some reason, I'm extraordinarily fatigued today."

A result from not having slept a wink all night, I was sure, but I couldn't tell Bridget that. She'd want to know why, and that was something I could never tell a soul. How could I go back to my life and pretend last night never happened?

My whole life before was a lie, and my whole life now was a lie.

I couldn't go back and I couldn't walk away. Not from Sean. Not from Rebecca. Not from Bridget. Yet how could I stay and spend my life as a maid and a mistress? I couldn't do that either.

And how could he believe so strongly in a curse that he'd sacrifice his whole life to thwart it?

Mrs. Frye entered the room. "Bridget! Cassie!" She didn't inspect the room, looking for fault, but had a worried look on her face. "Have you seen my Jamie today?"

"No, ma'am," Bridget said.

I shook my head. She nodded then left. Bridget met my gaze and I shrugged. Something wasn't right.

Mid-swipe I remembered what happened last night while I was at my bath. Good Lord! I dropped my rag, knocking the tin of polish across the floor as I jumped up.

Bridget rose. "What's wrong?"

"Stay here. I forgot something." Leaving Bridget, I ran all the way to the stable. Inside I found one of the stable hands.

"Where's Mr. Frye?" I asked.

"Don't know. Everyone's a looking for him. Been missing all day."

"I mean Stuart. Not Jamie."

"I'm right here," a deep voice sounded behind me.

Turning, I found Stuart standing in the doorway. The sun glinted off his hair and shone partly on his unshaven jaw, giving a warm appeal to his rugged looks.

"I need to speak to you alone," I said.

"I'll go check on the flowers in the garden to see how fast they're growing," the stable hand said with a knowing grin, then ducked out.

I glared at his back, then at Stuart for not disabusing the man of his assumptions.

Stuart leaned against a stall. "What can I do for you, Miss Cassie?"

"I may know something about Jamie."

"What?"

"Last night, during my bath he walked in. I think he was returning a mopping pail. He saw me and started crying 'Mary' and 'hurt' again. He moved toward me, frightening me, and I screamed at him to leave and that Mary was dead."

Stuart winced. "And you're just now thinking to tell someone?"

"I'm sorry. So many things happened. Bridget came with the roses, all excited, and fell and cried, and I honestly didn't think he would go anywhere but to bed. I had no idea he would be upset enough to leave."