“Do you think I should be paying my addresses to Mrs. Martin, my dear Miss Fitzhugh?” he whispered. “Martin doesn’tlook the sort to have enough stamina to service two women.And goodness knows you could probably exhaust Casanova himself.”Again this insinuation that she must be a sufferer of nymphomania. Behind her fan, she put her lips very close to his ear. “You’ve no idea, my Lord Hastings, the heated yearningsthat singe me at night, when I cannot have a man. My skin burns to be touched, my lips kissed, and my entire body passionately fondled.”Hastings was mute, for once. He stared at her with something halfway between amusement and arousal.She snapped shut her fan and rapped his fingers as hard as she could, watching with great satisfaction as he choked back ayelp of pain.“By anyone but you,” she said, and turned on her heels.”

“what red lips you have," he said in her ear. Did she dare say it? "All the better to kiss you with, my dear," she replied. And then their lips met.”

“I'm sorry. It's Hard for me. I do love you," she said quietly. "Sometimes it scares me because you're the first. And the only"He held her there until he was sure he could speak, then eased her back, looked into her eyes "You've chaged my life. Become my life." He touched his lips to hers, let the kiss deepen slowly, silkily. "I need you”

“She put her arms around his waist and looked up at his face. “I did? What did I take?”He bent down to kiss her. She stood to meethim halfway. His lips softly touched her lips and her neck as his hands became tangled in her hair.“I believe it was my heart.”

“What is your name?" she asked."Names are like clothes, lady. I have many.""And which one do you wear tonight?"The god smiled. She could see he liked her words. He pulled her to him, pressed his wolf lips to hers and said, "My name is Misery, and would you know yet more?""Yes," said the girl, breathing in his scent, the scent of something beautiful, strange and burned. "I would know more."He flicked at her lips with his tongue and whispered, "So is yours.”

“What a woman you are,” he murmured, and she heard the emotion in it, theway the Irish thickened just a bit in his voice. And saw it in those vivid eyes when he drew back. “That you would think of this. That you would do this.”He shook his head, kissed her. Like the breath, long and quiet.“I can’t thank you enough. There isn’t enough thanks. I can’t say what this means to me, even to you. I don’t have the words for it.” He took her hands,brought them both to his lips. “A ghra. You stagger me.”He framed her face now, touched his lips to her brow. “You’re the beat of my heart, the breath in my body, the light in my soul.”