“What I mean is,” he said, cutting her off. “Is that Darla shouldnae haveneededto tell ye. I should have done that. It was wrong of me to not be honest with ye, especially after I realized what was happening between us.”
She looked away. “You don’t need to say any more. I understand.”
“Nay, I dinna think ye do.” He tilted her chin until she looked up at him. “After Lizzie died, I wanted to follow her. If it had not been a sin against God to take yer own life, perhaps I would have done. I chose the next best thing. I walked away from life and came here to live an empty existence. I was content with that. Or I thought I was. Until ye walked into my life.” He paused. “I’ve been fighting myself, Madeleine, fighting what I want and what I thought was my duty.” He fell silent, unable to continue. He had never been good with words. How could he make her understand?
“I get it,” she said. “I do. I never expected to find what I did when I met you.”
“And what is that?” he asked softly.
Her face was half in shadow and he could barely make out her words as she said, “I think you know. Love. I love you, Deryn.”
THERE. SHE’D SAID IT. She hadn’t meant to. After the revelations from Darla tonight, she’d vowed to herself that she would say nothing, that she would not push Deryn and she would accept that her feelings might not be reciprocated despite what she’d sensed from him. She could not compete with a dead woman and she wouldn’t even try.
And yet, as he stood there, so close she could feel his breath on her cheek, she had been unable to help herself. The words had tumbled out and she had been powerless to stop them.
She didn’t regret it. No matter if nothing could come of it. No matter that he didn’t love her back. No matter that they were from different times and different worlds, he had captured her heart and made her feel alive. It was only fair that he knew that.
He did not reply. For the longest moment he just stared at her. A log popped in the fire, the wind rattled the door, and a wolf howled out on the moors, but Maddy didn’t move.
He took her hand and put it over his heart. “Do ye feel that?” he whispered. “I had thought it was a dead, shriveled thing. That it would never beat properly again. But it has. It does. I never thought I would feel alive again but I do. Ye and Rory have brought me back to life. I never thought I would fall in love again but I have. Lord help me, I have.” He cupped her face in his hands. “I love ye, Madeleine Green.”
“You...you do?”
“Aye, lass. I do.”
“But...but...I thought—”
“So did I. I was wrong. Ye taught me that, Madeleine. Ye taught me how to love again.” He stepped forward and pressed his forehead against hers.
Maddy’s eyes slid closed and suddenly there were tears pricking her eyes. “Oh gosh,” she whispered. “Is this really happening?”
“I dinna know,” he replied. “Perhaps this is a dream but if so, it’s a good dream from which I dinna wish to wake.”
She reached up, pressed her palm against his cheek, feeling the contours of his face, the stubble that covered his chin.
“Me neither.” Then she went up on tiptoes and kissed him.
His response was instant. His arms went around her, he yanked her hard against him, and kissed her passionately.
The intensity of it took her breath. A wash of heat went right down to the spot between her legs.
Deryn’s hands swept down her back, his touch deepening the ache inside her. She moaned against his lips, nipping him with her teeth, and his lips parted, his tongue dipping inside her mouth.
Maddy tangled her fingers in his hair, pulling him so close that there was no gap between them at all. Her breasts were crushed against his broad chest, her belly against the hard bulge of his erection. The feel of it made her knees go weak.
Their clothes were in the way. She’d seen Deryn’s bare chest only on a few occasions when he’d been working around the farm but now she wanted to see all of him, every hard, scarred inch of him.
She began tugging at his plaid, unwinding the sash around his chest without breaking their kiss. In response, his fingers worked at the laces of her dress. His plaid fell away, pooling onto the floor between them and her dress slumped down her shoulders, sending goosebumps across her bare skin. She stepped out of it, leaving her in only the thin under shift, and pressed herself against him. The thin material was not enough to hide her.
Deryn’s big hand slid across her chest, cupping one of her breasts, his thumb circling the nipple through the thin fabric. It hardened painfully and she threw her head back with a gasp as Deryn’s lips found her ear lobe, her neck, the tops of her shoulders.
Then he was putting his hands under her backside and lifting her and she was wrapping her arms around his neck, her legs around his waist, as he carried her across the room to the hearth, where he laid her on her back in front of the fire.
She grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled him down with her, her hands riding under his shirt and up his back, feeling the dips and ridges of his muscles.
“All of ye,” he said, his voice low and dangerous. “I want to see all of ye.”
He took her shift in one hand and tugged, tearing the flimsy material in one easy gesture. He rose onto his knees, tossed the material away nonchalantly, and gazed down at her.
