“I will try.” She exhaled slowly, thoughtfully. “A young lady issupposedto safeguard her virginity at all costs.”
“So I have heard.”
“And I did not.”
“So I gathered.”
“Your lack of surprise suggested you hadassumedI did not. Which makes me wonder what kind of woman you thought I was.”
“I’m almost never surprised by the things people reveal.” He curled toward her so that they faced one another, pillowed head to pillowed head. “You, however, are proving a constant marvel.”
“To be surprised,” she noted, “you must have had certain expectations. I take it they were low?”
“I don’t think in the dichotomy you’ve described. I never have. Do you always expect the worst of people?” He looked as uncomfortable as she’d ever seen him look. “I don’t for instance, think that women can only be painted in one of two colors...although I have known men who did think that way.”
“Thank you for admitting that, at least.”
“I don’tlikethe idea of you having had a lover, any more than I suppose you’d like the idea of any of mine.”
Any of. Meaning multiple.
But of course. He wasn’t a young man. She mimicked his voice. “...I gather from our exchange that you aren’t completely without,” she paused, “experience.”
He chuckled. “You delight in throwing back my words.”
She did. “What made you so perceptive?”
He shrugged. “I lost my parents young. I was, I suppose, confused by the behavior of the people around me...”
She imagined him, a young, small boy in this vast castle meant to be a home. A pervasive feeling of loneliness swept through her, and she rested her head against his shoulder.
“...I was told to pay attention and people would always reveal.”
“Who imparted such wisdom?” she asked.
He chuckled softly. “If you must know, it was my nurse.”
“Wise Mrs. Small.”
A distant rumble beyond the walls interrupted their conversation.
Hurtheven sat up quickly, his eyes suddenly and strangely fixed. He was silent and still as several moments passed. Then came another explosion of sound.
“A storm is upon us,” she observed.
“It’s not close,” he said, eyes still on the passageway that led to the panel. “Not yet.”
* * *
Not close, but closing in. He felt his inner need stir. Why he so often went out into storms, he could not explain, but he had been doing so—thoughonlywhen he was at Hevenhyll—ever since he’d recovered from the accident.
He didn’t have a rational reason to go out in the rain.
“Godric?”
Startled out of his storm-charged reverie, he instinctively turned toward the sound of his name, taking in the vision that was Hera. Fire colored curls in decadent disarray. Pale colored skin, mottled by the remnants of satiated lust.Hera. His lover.
His love.
