“No, by God, you’ve accused me of coldness, but howcan you, when you can feel how hot my body is againstyours? You’ve said I have none of the red-blooded passionof my sex, but you don’t know. You,” he gasped, pressingagainst her with a hard thrust of his hips, “you will know it—the depth of my passion. But you will.”

“It is not your time, love. You will not die tonight.All this time she thought herself in love with the notion of Death. His gallantry, his beautiful soul. She believed he loved her because he had spared her from his grip. But it had not been Death, but Black.“Why?” she asked, and her body shook, knowing his sacrifice, knowing he knew her most guarded secret.“Because I loved you,” he murmured. “I couldn’t let you go, because I knew I could no longer see you, I couldn’t live, either.”Black had risked his life to save her from taking her own.He rose, helped her up and clutched her in his arms. “It is too soon for you to make your decision,” he said. “Come to me when you know what you want. My wishes will remain unchanged.”“What do you want?”He kissed her, pressed her body into his hot, hard one. “To be inside you. To lay you out and touch you with my hands, my mouth and tongue. I want to slip deep inside you and never leave. I want to wake up in the morning and open my eyes to find you lying there next to me. I want to look at my children and see you in their little faces.”“Jude,” she whispered, holding him, weakening.“But I want you to want that as much as I do, Isabella.”“We have too many secrets,” she began. “Our pasts…”“Secrets, like passion, are meant to be spent. I will bear all my sins, all my secrets, when you come to me. It’s all I can offer. You see, little love, I’m afraid, too, but the difference between us is that I believe it’s worth it to face that fear if it means that I’ll have you.”

“I’m a hedonist, and you, Jane, my wife, should know that about me. You’ve shared my body and bed, you know things about me that no other soul on earth does. Who can I not be a sensualist with than, you, Jane? Who else to act out my wicked fantasies, than the woman who inspires them? There is no shame in fantasies, in pleasure. Who other than us needs to know what we’ve done, what brings the other pleasure?”

“Wallingford vaulted up from his chair. “You’ve come here so that I can mollify you and share in your belittling of Anais? Well, you’ve knocked on the wrong bloody door, Raeburn, because I will not join you in disparaging Anais. I will not! Not when I know what sort of woman she is—she is better than either of us deserves. Damn you, I know what she means to you. I know how you’ve suffered. You want her and you’re going to let a mistake ruin what you told me only months ago you would die for. Ask yourself if it is worth it. Is your pride worth all the pain you will make your heart suffer through? Christ,” Wallingford growled, “if I had a woman who was willing to overlook everything I’d done in my life,every wrong deed I had done to her or others, I would be choking back my pride so damn fast I wouldn’t even taste it.”Lindsay glared at Wallingford, galled by the fact his friend— the one person on earth he believed would understand his feelings—kept chastising him for his anger, which, he believed, was natural and just.“If I had someone like Anais in my life,” Wallingford continued, blithely ignoring Lindsay’s glares, “I would ride back to Bewdley with my tail between my legs and I would do whatever I had to do in order to get her back.”“You’re a goddamned liar! You’ve never been anything but a selfish prick!” Lindsay thundered. “What woman would you deign to lower yourself in front of? What woman could you imagine doing anything more to than fucking?”Wallingford’s right eye twitched and Lindsay wondered if his friend would plant his large fist into his face. He was mad enough for it, Lindsay realized, but so, too, was he. He was mad, angry—all but consumed with rage, but the bluster went out of him when Wallingford spoke.“I’ve never bothered to get to know the women I’ve been with. Perhaps if I had, I would have found one I could have loved—one I could have allowed myself to be open with. But out of the scores of women I’ve pleasured, I’ve only ever been the notorious, unfeeling and callous libertine—that is my shame.Your shame is finding that woman who would love you no matter what and letting her slip through your fingers because she is not the woman your mind made her out to be. You have found something most men only dream of. Things that I have dreamed of and coveted for myself. The angel is dead. It is time to embrace the sinner, for if you do not, I shall expect to see you in hell with me. And let me inform you, it’s a burning, lonely place that once it has its hold on you, will never let you go. Think twice before you allow pride to rule your heart.”“What do you know about love and souls?” Lindsay growled as he stalked to the study door.“I know that a soul is something I don’t have, and love,” Wallingford said softly before he downed the contents of his brandy, “love is like ghosts, something that everyone talks of but few have seen. You are one of the few who have seen it and sometimes I hate you for it. If I were you, I’d think twice about throwing something like that away, but of course, I’m a selfish prick and do as I damn well please.”“You do indeed.”Wallingford’s only response was to raise his crystal glass in a mock salute.“To hell,” he muttered,“make certain you bring your pride. It is the only thing that makes the monotony bearable.”

“You kissed me, and I opened my eyes and thought you were Death. You were the most beautiful thing I had ever seen, and I clung to the memory of you because it gave me comfort—the only bit of happiness I had ever had. You were my secret fantasy, my lover. My story… Lord Death is you, and the woman he stalks…is me.”“Why have you come,” he asked, “when you now know the truth?”“Because when you saved me, you forged a link between us. I don’t believe it will ever break.”“Bella,” he whispered, “I couldn’t allow you to take your life. Couldn’t bear the thought of existing in a world that you did not.”

“She brought a finger to her mouth, licked it. Salt. A clean scent. Not male sweat rich with the scent of musk and masculine flesh, but something else. Something purer. Tears.“Iain?”He trembled and she could have sworn she heard his tears run down his cheeks and plop onto the pillow. “My God, Beth. I’ve seen you. I’ve seen you in my heart and in my soul.” And then he stiffened, pressed his fingers into her hips, squeezing. “Can I, Beth? Can I come inside you?”“Yes,” she murmured, holding him close, feeling hisbody shudder beneath hers. “And stay forever.”

“Matty,” Jane whispered, “what are you thinking?”He smiled, kissed her navel before glancing up at her. “Barbaric thoughts.”“You’re very pleased with yourself, aren’t you?”He laughed and slid up the length of her body. “I am. It’s such a powerfulvisual to know that my seed is responsible for the life within you and theincredibly arousing changes in your body.“And, I, of course, have nothing to do with it?”“Jane,” he whispered, “let me have my moment of male glory.”