"I can't. Let me set this cloth over your eyes. It will ease the pain some."

He stilled and sighed deeply. "Leave, Cassie. I don't want you here now. Never should have let myself want you at all."

"I can't leave." More daring than I'd ever been, I sat gently on his bed, near his head and slid the cloth against his forehead. "Please. Just a few moments, let me help."

He moved his arm and my cloth aside and glared at me from pain-narrowed eyes. "Anything you do will only cause more pain, believe me."

"Maybe not." I leaned down and I pressed my lips to his forehead, his bandaged temple, and then to his lips. He responded as if he were a dying man offered one last hope of reprieve. His tongue thrust against mine, seeking succor in the passion. His unshaven cheeks were rough beneath my palms, his hair soft and silky to my fingertips. I breathed deeply, drawing the essence of his unique scent deep inside of me.

Be it right or wrong, the barriers that had stood between us had fallen away in a blink of an eye on the roof last night, and all that stood between us now were my jumbled emotions, emotions that could only be eased by knowing him this way. I met his seeking tongue with mine and pressed the edges of his robe aside to feel the supple heat and strength of his muscled chest, the silk of his hair, the beat of his heart beneath my palm. I reveled in the contact of his hardness to my softness.

"Cassie," he whispered, pulling me closer until I half lay upon him. Reaching down, he eased my knees up until I found myself sitting on his stomach, looking down at his dark handsomeness, and intense gaze. The position made me feel heady, almost powerful, and nowhere near as vulnerable as I thought I would be in coming to him with my heart.

"I'll hurt you," I said.

"No. Let me look at you." He ran his finger through my hair, loosening it from the combs I'd put in. He slid his fingers beneath the collar of my dress, caressing the nape of my neck, then along my collarbone, and moving to the buttons of my dress. I bit my lip as he slipped the buttons free and stripped down my dress and chemise. I'd always thought that passion would have to completely sweep me away before I'd ever be so bold as to respond to a man's caress with such pleasure. I was wrong. Passion was sweeping me in a tide, but I wasn't drowning in it like last time. I was thoroughly enjoying its sea. Taking my time to taste his salty skin, feel his rippling strength, and to lose myself in the pleasure and the power of his touch.

He made me feel more alive than anything had ever made me feel. Arching my back, I pressed my breasts deeper into the cups of his hands, reveling in the sensations his fingers burned into me as he deftly rolled his thumbs over the sensitive tips until my hips matched the rhythm he stroked. He shifted his hips, bringing my feminine flesh intimately against his rigid male flesh, then he pressed harder, more insistently. Though separated by cotton and silk, nothing could mask the raw and urgent hunger of his need or my responding desire.

My eyes flew open to find him watching me, his gaze darkened with desire. This was the beauty of man, the beauty of woman, that they were created to be together. I responded by pressing myself to him, rubbing myself against his hardness. He moaned.

"You're like the wind to me," he whispered. "Fierce and passionate, gentle and moving. Always swirling within my mind, bringing fresh warmth every time you pass by me."

Emotion swelled inside me, squeezing my heart. I splayed my hands across his chest, recalling the protective heart that beat so surely inside him. I caressed his taut muscles, feeling his supple strength and the silk of his hair. His words, his touch, warmed me to the tips of my toes. "If I'm the wind then you're the sun that moves me," I told him.

He drew me down for a kiss that seemed to leisurely search the depths of my soul, and brought the sting of tender tears to my eyes. From our previous encounters, I expected wild, unthinking passion and found this gentle exploration so moving, so exquisitely touching, that my heart swelled and my soul sang.

Turning to his side, he nudged me off of him. Then slowly, deliberately, watching my every expression, he stripped away my clothing, leaving me naked, but strangely not vulnerable. He followed every exposure with the caress of his hand and the brush of his kiss, touching me intimately everywhere until I writhed from the fire burning in my loins. The pleasure in his gaze, the unspoken praise in his reverent touch, made me feel glorious, more woman than I'd ever known I could feel.

I pulled at his robe, needing, wanting, to see and touch all of him. He slid his robe off then his pants, standing before me as Adam had before Eve. The long jagged scar that I'd seen before cut across his left hip and down his thigh.

"I'm not a perfect man," he said.

Meeting his gaze, I saw the haunting edge of pain in his eyes and in his voice, and realized that his struggle with pain was why this exploration into the senses had moved so much more slowly than before. Was I only adding to his pain? I wanted to cry no, to reach out to him and pull him comfortingly into my arms. "Nor am I a perfect woman."

Though his jutting arousal, so Zeus-like to my mind, stood between us, I sat up and, leaning to the side, pressed a kiss to the scar.

Then, feeling bolder, I brought my mouth higher, kissing the ridges of his abdomen and then his chest, I reveled in the difference between us. I slid my hand over his scar, up his back, and down along the pattern of silky hair leading to his groin.

"You're beautiful everywhere." I brushed my fingers over his rigid arousal, feeling the burning heat of his need.

His breath hitched in a rasping, deep gasp. "Cassie." He caught me up in his arms as he fell back onto the bed, me beneath, him above, pinning me between exquisite hardness and softness. Then he kissed me and touched me everywhere all over again, molding my breasts to the shape of his palms and the heat of his mouth. Claiming my heart and soul with every nuance of his desire, he slid his hands over my stomach, then lower, spreading my legs open and caressing my intimate places, suckling my breasts until all of me wept for him to ease the fire burning within.

"Sean, please. Show me everything." I pulled his hips to mine, wanting the rigid heat of him intimately against me.

"Everything," he answered and drove himself inside me.

"Heavens!" Discomfort and pleasure and an intrusive, but intimate feeling filled me as he joined himself to me. Man to woman.

"Hell." He leaned back and glared fiercely at me. "You said there'd been a scandal! You're a virgin." He groaned deeply, roughly. "God help me. Were a virgin."

I wrapped my arms and legs around him, assuring he couldn't leave me. I couldn't lie to him, not here, not now, but neither could I tell him about Mary. Not like this. "Trust me. I had to come here. And I want you. I want you to show me what lies beyond the stars. Don't leave me in the dark, alone."

He hesitated but a moment, then slowly started to ease himself in and out of me, filling me with the driving force of his passion. Over and over he thrust into me as he kissed my lips, and caressed my breasts until I was on fire with desire. Then slid his fingers to where he joined his body with mine and found that spot of white heat where I ached for him the most.

My back arched and my hips thrust to meet him. "Sean," I cried, as he swept me into an indescribable realm of pleasure that left my body shuddering, and my mind exploding with bright stars.

Chapter Eighteen.

Still drifting in a fiery nebula of pleasure, I heard Sean groan deeply, his body pulling abruptly from mine then he shuddered his seed against me. I tightened my arms around him, feeling a strange mixture of gratitude and loss.

His weight pressed upon me, but I welcomed the heaviness of his body resting on mine. It felt so right, so natural, to cushion him with everything of me. Our breaths mingled and the rapid thundering of my heart beat in tandem with his. As the remnants of pleasure continued to echo through him into me, my spirit and soul seemed to mingle together with his in the hazy mist. I slid my hands up his back and eased my fingertips over the bandage on his temple.

"Tell me, about your injury and the darkness. Why does the light hurt?"

Rolling to his back, he pulled away from me. This time the exposure of my nakedness to the cool air left me vulnerable and bereft.

"Sean?" I reached for him.

He caught my hand before I could touch him. "Get dressed, Cassie. We have to talk."

All of my newfound misty pleasure dissipated, and I wanted to cry out against having it ripped so quickly away. My lies had caught up with me. I took a deep breath, determined that nothing was going to steal away this love, determined I wasn't going to let my virginity or propriety or any other thing such and the Dragon's Curse or society's mores keep me from loving him.

As soon as we'd dressed, Sean led me to a sitting area in a shadowed corner of his room. Moonlight spilled softly through the windows, but did little to soften the harshness of his features. He appeared darker and more dangerous than the night I'd first met him, for before me stood a man stripped bare of almost everything but pain.

Pain, it seemed I was only going to add to. For I had lied to him, and while my intent had been noble, I realized that I wouldn't have wanted to make love to a man and not know who he truly was. I'd not given him the same courtesy. Lowering my gaze, I was about to explain and apologize when I saw paintings stacked along the wall. Dozens and dozens of them. They were of the sea, beautiful and wild and full of light. They were Mary's.

Sean spoke before I could find my voice. He paced, as if deliberately causing himself pain. "I've given you the benefit of doubt for too long. Your father, who teaches at Oxford, is currently out of the country, and as far as my man has been able to discern, he still has his post, but I considered you only told Mrs. Frye that because you were too ashamed to speak of the scandal. Understandable, given the proper advice column you've written for years. You would have had to come and hide in Cornwall to escape. But it appears there was no scandal. So why are you here Cassie? No more lies." His green gaze cut deep, unrelenting in his demand.

I barely managed to close my mouth. "How...how...did you learn all of that?"

"I've an excellent factotum whom I trust implicitly to take care of my affairs. A man who lives as I must couldn't function without such an employee. When I fell over the cliff eight years ago, my injury made exposure to light excruciatingly painful. Only recently have I been able to tolerate the sunlight with a minimal amount of pain. After our first encounter, I sent him to investigate. I also wanted to know that whoever had harmed you had paid for doing so. You led me to believe you'd been forced."

"Good Lord. You knew all that and still...still..."

"Wanted you? You have no idea how badly I wanted you, Cassie. I think I would give and forgive almost anything. I want the truth now."

"It's Mary." Tears filled my eyes. "She was my cousin. I dreamed of her. She called to me and I could never reach her. I woke with that horrid dread curling inside of me and I knew she was dead. The telegram about Mary's drowning arrived from Aunt Lavinia that morning. My sisters and I came immediately. We all believed that something was wrong. Mary feared the sea. She never would have gone swimming. And your refusing to see my aunt made us even more-"

"What? I've never received a request."

"But she came here repeatedly."

"I'll look into it. Go on."

I winced. "I...started conducting my own investigation into Mary's drowning when I couldn't get Constable Poole to reopen his investigation into Mary's death. The rest you know. I came here to work as maid so that I could find out what happened to her." I hesitated. "You have all of her paintings."

"She gave them to me. She wanted me to have light in the darkness. So that's it?" He turned from me, hands fisted, voice haunted. "Everything you've done here has just been to learn about Mary? You've been looking for a murderer?"

I ran to him, grabbed his arms and pressed my cheek to his back. "No. A thousand times no. In coming here, I've lost my life within the lives of those here. Rebecca. Bridget. You. I can't live without all of you, yet I can't live with you all as I am now. And I am afraid now that I'll have lost everything. Sean, please believe me. I love you." Pain as great as the pleasure we shared ripped through me. "Please," I whispered. "Please don't turn away from me."

He bowed his head, pulling away from me, wrenching my heart apart. "You're damned, Cassie. Because there is no life here. Leave me now. I need to think. I'm sorry, but I didn't ask you to come here. Not tonight. And now what is done cannot be undone. I can't give you back your virginity, but I can send you on to a better life. There is no future for us, Cassie."

"It doesn't have to be that way. You only think it does because you won't let yourself see anything any different. You're choosing darkness over light."

"I am cursed, and doomed to live in darkness. There is nothing else. Now leave."

"Do you not love me?"

My heart waited in the following silence and broke on his harsh answer. "No."

Oh God. I couldn't take the pain. I couldn't stay and fight, not when my heart hurt so badly that he didn't love me enough to leave the darkness. I turned and left him in the dark, realizing how nave I'd been. He may have needed me. Wanted me. But he didn't love me.

I rose the next morning, having not slept. My eyes were swollen, my throat was scratchy, and my heart so wounded that I could barely breathe. I told Bridget and Prudence that I was ill and asked to rest alone for a while.

Sean was everywhere in my mind. I couldn't escape him. He'd cast a spell over me that left me wanting and aching for him. I had to pull myself together, to put him from my mind and focus my efforts on discovering who murdered Mary. But I made little progress in the dark.

Bridget and Prudence left me inside until noon, then insisted I go to the gardens with them.

The sun hurt my eyes and I tried to stay in the shadows as Bridget and Prudence walked ahead, talking about the spring flowers. I followed, holding Rebecca's hand while she carried her rag doll with the other. She seemed to know of my hurt, even though she couldn't see me, because she kept squeezing my hand. As we strolled we neared Zeus; tears flooded my eyes, even though I chided myself for letting a reminder of Sean so move me. My love hadn't ceased because he didn't love me, but it had turned from pleasure to pain. I slowed my pace with Rebecca, letting Bridget and Prudence move farther ahead so they wouldn't see my tears. I could hardly see where we were going and didn't care. I blindly followed their blurry shapes.

A little while on, Rebecca tugged on my hand and I blinked down at her. She didn't say anything, and since I hadn't spoken, she didn't even have her face turned toward me. But she held her rag doll up to me. "H-h-hold dollie. Sh-h-he helps."

I came undone. "I love you, poppet." I sat down on the ground, pulled Rebecca and dollie into my arms and cried.

Suddenly someone grabbed me from behind, jerking me by the waist, tearing me away from Rebecca. I tried to cry out, but a large smelly hand covered my mouth.

"M-mary hurt you." Jamie pulled me backward. I tried to beat at him, to kick him, to free myself, but I couldn't. Terror cleared my tear-blurred vision and I saw the garden before me suddenly disappear behind a dark hedge. The maze! My mind screamed. The maze! He held me so tight I couldn't breathe.

As if from a faraway tunnel, I heard Rebecca scream. "C-c-c-caasss."

Jamie ran with me, faster than I would have ever thought he could move. Dark shadows and even blacker hedges whirled by. Fear, so paralyzing, so deafening that I could hardly think, gripped me by the throat. I'd made a fatal mistake. I had no weapon. In my sorrow, I'd blindly left my room without the knife, and I'd failed to get my father's pistol from Sean last night. I'd given no thought to what dangers might lurk during a walk in the gardens with Bridget and Prudence, and now I would pay the price.

I tried to fight harder.

"No, Mary," Jamie cried. "Hurt you."

Wrenching my head to the side, I finally could draw enough air to keep from fainting. I saw the broken remains of a gazebo looming ahead, so easily discernable by its half-rotted shape. Jamie went directly toward it, dragging me.

I drew enough air and screamed.

Jamie stopped and hit me across the cheek, knocking me to the ground. "Shh. Hurt you. Hurt you."

Stunning pain lashed through me. He grabbed my arm, wrenching it as he pulled me to the gazebo. Once upon its splintered floor, he dragged me to an open trap door and threw me into the yawning black pit. I screamed, reaching out for anything to save myself, and caught hold of the rung of a ladder. I managed to hold on long enough to break my fall to the bottom of the earthen room. Jamie jumped the distance effortlessly and pulled on a rope hanging down. The trap door shut, drenching us in the dark. I screamed again.

"Shh. Hurt you, Mary. Hide." He must have had the eyes of a bat, because I couldn't see, yet he grabbed my arm and started dragging me with him.

"Please, stop. Tell me about Mary." I tried to reason with him.

"Hide." He kept dragging me further. In the darkness, I started to see shadows and knew I was no longer in a room but a tunnel that went on for what felt like forever. Then the dank smell of wet earth changed to a putrid scent as he drew closer to a gray area ahead. That meant light. I focused on it, praying.

We reached a dimly lit room, and he pushed me down on a filthy cot. "Hide," he said again. "Hurt you."

I drew a deep breath, trying to think past my pain and fear. Was he trying to tell me to hide?

He walked across the room and lit a candle. I quickly recognize that we weren't in an earthen chamber now, but one of stone with primitive designs etched on the walls. Circling the room were carved stone statues as large as the one of Daghdha in the center of the Stone Virgins. They were placed closely against the stone walls, leaving small crevices draped with spider webs. The statues dwarfed Jamie. I suddenly recalled Stuart saying that Jamie felt comfortable in the circle of the Stone Virgins and I wondered if it was because they made him little again.

"Jamie," I said, hoping that I could reason with him if I calmed myself. "Help me. Take me to the castle. Help me."

He shook his head. "Hurt you." He pointed across the room, moving aside so that I could see.

The decomposing remains of a woman with blond hair lay on a cold stone slab. Mary.

I fought the retching and the dizziness that tried to rip my sanity from me. Hot and cold sweats gripped my body. I'd been searching for a loved one, but the reality and the horror of finding her dead devastated me. I crawled back on the cot until I hit the stone wall behind me. I could barely breathe, for I knew I, too, would die. I couldn't give up.

"What happened to Mary, Jamie?" I asked, hoping again to find reason in the giant.

He shook his head and yelled. "Hurt. Hurt you too." He paced about the room agitated. "Don't talk," he said.

I bit back my questions, deciding to be as invisible as I could, hoping that if I waited long enough, I would find an opportunity to escape. I knew running while he was awake was out of the question. He would have overpowered me in minutes. No loose stones or sticks or any other weapon lay close to me, but I didn't give up my search for an escape.

I wasn't sure how long I'd been there, a ball of numbness and terror, but I saw the shadows in the room grow, even though the candle remained lit. Only then did I realize that there had to be light coming from outside into this room. Light meant escape. I started studying the upper regions of the room, my heart shrinking in horror as I discerned the exit. It lay directly above the stone slab Mary lay on. I'd have to climb onto that, and even then I didn't think I was tall enough to reach the stone opening.

That meant the only way out was the way I had come in.

Jamie moved and I darted my gaze toward him and to where it appeared he was headed. A wooden table sat in the corner with only one thing on it, rather in it. A large knife stabbed into the wood. He reached for it, and I bit back a scream, wrenching myself from the wall and off the cot. I ran for the dark opening he'd brought me through.

"Nooo, Mary." Knife in hand, Jamie lunged in front of me. Screaming, I turned to the side, backing away from him until I hit the protruding arms of a Stone Virgin.

He stepped toward me. I desperately searched the room, edging around the Stone Virgin, hitting spider webs that I was too terrified to push away. Then I saw the dark crevice between the wall and the statue, so slight a place that a man like Jamie couldn't reach. Sucking in my stomach, I wedged into the space, turning my head sideways to fit. Cold stone scraped my cheek and jaw, and painfully pressed against my breasts, but I burrowed deeper into the crevice as Jamie screamed for me but couldn't reach me. I cried out in horror as a spider crawled along my neck. My arms were pinned to my sides. I could do nothing but stand wedged between the stone and suffer its roving, and I wondered if the quick blade of a knife might not be a better way to die.

"Cassie. Where are you?"

I thought I was dreaming, hearing the deep ferocity of Sean's voice because I so badly wanted to hear him, see him, touch him one last time.

"Cassie!"

Thundering steps and the flickering light of torches filled the chamber, telling me I wasn't dreaming.

"Sean!" I screamed as loud as I could.

"Nooo! Hurt you," Jamie yelled.