If You Desire, стр. 52

She gave a bitter laugh. "It's very simple. The man I gave my virginity to, wishes he hadn't taken it."

He flinched.

"You win, Hugh." She stood, wrapping the sheet around her. "I'm going to say three words I've never uttered to anyone in my entire life: I—give—up." She stormed out, striding into her room. After slamming her door, she locked it behind her.

Seconds later, her door was rocked from its hinges. With a gasp, she glanced up from donning her shift.

He was huge, filling the doorway. She was even more aware of his strength and the power in his body because she'd spent the night learning every inch of it, rubbing, cupping, and licking it.

"Stop doing that to my doors!" she cried.

"Then doona ever keep a locked door between us."

"I'm done talking to you!" she snapped, and darted past him, heading for the broken door.

He grabbed her elbow, swinging her around. "Will you no' just listen to me?"

They were toe to toe, both breathing heavily. His brows drew together as if he was confounded, then his hand shot out to clutch her nape, yanking her against his unyielding chest. His voice a broken rasp, he said,"My God, I'll never get enough of you."

His lips crashed into hers, slanting into a scorching, possessive kiss, making her ache anew. But she somehow shoved against him. "No! I'm not doing this! Not again. Not until you tell me what happened between last night and this morning."

After a hesitation, he took a deep, seemingly calming breath, then nodded. "Verra well. Dress yourself. Then we'll discuss some things," he said, looking for all the world like a man sentenced to the gallows.

Chapter Forty-one

Half an hour later, once Jane had washed and dressed, preparing for whatever he had to confess, she sat patiently waiting on the side of his bed.

Hugh hadn't spoken, just paced the room like a caged beast, appearing as if he were…nervous.

"Just say what's on your mind," she said as he passed. "Whatever it is, it can't hurt to tell me."

He slowed. "And how would you know that?"

"Is it a secret that someone would kill me for? That Grey would torture me for?"

"No."

"Does it embarrass you?"

"No, but—"

"Hugh, they're just words. Trust me with your secret, and you won't regret it." When he still resisted, she tried to make light. "Do you worry that I won't find you as attractive if you're not the brooding Highlander with his devilish secrets? Tell me."

"Hell, you won't believe me anyway," he muttered.

"This is going to sound mad. I ken it's going to." He ran a hand over the back of his neck. "But my family was…cursed. I believe that I will bring you nothing but misery if I stay wed to you."

Cursed? What the devil is he talking about?Though her thoughts were wild, her tone was inscrutable when she said, "Go on, I'm listening."

"Ten generations ago, a clan seer foretold the futures of the Carrick line and recorded them in a book called theLeabhar nan Suil-radharc , theBook of Fates ." He pointed to the old book he always had on the table. "My brothers and I are fated to be solitary, living our lives alone, and will bring pain to those we care for if we think to do otherwise. We will be the last of our line and can never have children. For five hundred years, the foretellings have all come true—every single one of them."

"I-I don't understand…" She inhaled and began again, "Do you care for me enough to stay with me otherwise?" she asked.

"Aye, Christ, yes."

"Then you're telling me that nothing stands in the way of us staying married except for a…curse?"

When he didn't deny it, Jane barely stifled the scream welling in her throat.This just isn't happening to me! How could she be rational in the face of this? Reasonable was impossible.

It was as if one of the foundations of her adult life had just suffered a fracture. Now everything built on it had gone askew. The quiet, steady Hugh she'd known for half her life was gone, and in his place was a superstitious madman.

"Hugh, people simply…people like us simply don't think like this anymore. Not with science and medicine. Morag is superstitious because she doesn't know any better. You've traveled the world, and you're educated. Beliefs like this belong in the past."

"And I wish I could put them there. But this has shadowed me for my entire life."

"You know me well enough to know I can't accept things like this."

"Aye, I ken that." He exhaled a long breath. "And I know that you scorn those who do."

"Naturally!" she snapped, then struggled for calm. "Are you telling me this now because you're willing to forget this, forget these beliefs?"

His expression looked hopeless—and resigned. "If I could have figured out a way to get around it, I never would have had to tell you."

When she realized that he wasn't revealing this to explain his past behavior, but to explain why he couldn't stay married to her, her lips parted. "You're really saying this? That aScottish curse—and, my goodness, aren't those always the worst kind?—keeps us from remaining wed?"

All of the worry, the careful strategizing, the effort to win him—all of it was for nothing.

Because of a curse.

Frustration threatened to choke her.No, Father, actually I can'tcajole him into staying with me. She'd never had a chance from the outset.

"Everything in the book comes to pass," Hugh said.

"Everything. I ken it's hard to believe."

"I should have kept a tally of your excuses! You're not the marrying kind, you can't have children, and, oh yes, you are cursed. Anything else you want to declare to scare me away? I know! Youused to be a eunuch? You've only two months to live?" Then, in a breathy voice, she said, "You're aghost , aren't you?"

He clenched and unclenched his jaw, visibly grappling for control. "Do you think I'm lying about this?"

"Hugh, I sincerelyhope you're lying—" She broke off as a thought arose. "Oh, dear God." A trembling hand flew to her forehead. "Does this mean that a five-hundred-year-old curse is the only thing you were trusting to keep me from conceiving?"

"I told you I canna get you with bairn." His eyes narrowed. "But you said it dinna matter either way."

"I said it didn't matter, so long as we were married! Right now, all I know is that you're still leaving. And, yes, you told me you can't have children, but I'm having trouble with the source of your information."

He strode to the table, flipping to the end of the book. "Just read the words, and let me explain."

She shook her head. "I can't listen to this. I would no more listen to this than I would hear an argument that the sun is blue."

"You've wanted to know, and now I'm telling you—the first person I've ever told—but you doona want to hear it?" he demanded. "Read the words."

She yanked the book out of his hands. "This is the root of thecurse ?" At his nod, she tossed it back to the table and flipped through, not bothering to be careful with the pages, though she could tell it was very old. Some of the text was written in Gaelic, some in English. Her brows drew together as she flipped toward the end. Now it all seemed to be written in English.

"Why're you frowning? Did you feel something—"

"Yes!" she cried, swinging a wide-eyed gaze at him. "I'm feeling an overwhelming urge to toss this into the lake."

Ignoring her comment, he moved beside her and turned to the last page. "This was written to my father."

She perused the passage.Not to marry, know love, or bind, their fate; Your line to die for never seed shall take. Death and torment to those caught in their wake… "You said all of this has come true?"

"Aye. My father died the day after we read this the first time, the verra next morning, though he was no' much older than I am now. And years ago, Ethan's intended died the night before his wedding."