Brynn tried to take command then. Her arms locked around his neck, and she wrapped her legs around his waist, clutching at him. Understanding her need, he thrust again, forcing himself deep, dredging a raw moan from deep in her throat.

Her plea was unnecessary; he felt the way she was shaking.

“So beautiful, so wild, so ready for me,” he rasped.

“Now, Lucian… oh God, please…”

Obligingly his intensity quickened, and he drove into her with a ravishing, penetrating rhythm, his own body on fire. He wanted her with a hungry urgency that threatened his sanity.

He clenched his jaw as she arched against him. She was utterly wild and glorious, with her head thrown back, her bare breasts heaving from the force of her panting breaths, so near to orgasm that the slightest friction would push her over the edge.

He braced his legs and plunged into her sleek passage one last time, so deep he could feel the very mouth of her womb.

She did scream then, a high keening pleasure sound that sent a spiking rapture through him. Her frantic cry was taken from her by his kiss as she erupted, her inner muscles convulsing around his erection with a force that nearly made him explode. Lucian shook with triumph as he feverishly ate her mouth that tasted sumptuously like raspberries.

Finally the rippling convulsions slowed.

Long moments later, Brynn came to her senses. Drowsy and replete, she lay sprawled wantonly on the hard table, cool air brushing her overheated skin. Lucian was still buried hard and deep within her, magnificently filling her.

“You didn’t find your pleasure,” she murmured weakly.

His expression was primitively male, sexual and possessive, as he gazed down at her. “Not yet. But the night is still young. We’re going to make each other wild, exhausted, siren.”

“We will miss the ball,” she replied, a drained smile curving her lips.

“Do you really want to go?”

“Not at all.”

It was all the answer Lucian needed. Still impaling her, he lifted her up and strode with her to his bed, his hungry mouth ravaging hers as he bore her down to the soft mattress.


If Lucian’s passion was crumbling her defensive walls bit by bit, Brynn found her heart torn even further a few days later. Before she left to ride in the park with Raven, she stopped by Lucian’s study to bid him farewell. When at his command she bent to kiss him, he handed her a wooden box tied with a green satin ribbon.

“What is this?” she asked curiously.

“A wedding gift. You didn’t care for the emeralds I gave you. I thought perhaps you might like this better.”

Setting her gloves on his desk, she opened the box and found an old parchment inside. “A deed? To… Gwyndar Castle? ”

“One of my properties in Wales. The coastal waters are warm enough that you can swim almost year-round. I’ve signed it over to you.” When Brynn’s expression turned troubled, Lucian scrutinized her. “You don’t seem pleased.”

Wondering if she should answer honestly, she took a deep breath. “I am not pleased that you are trying to buy me, Lucian.”

“Buy you?”

Her eyes met his steadily. “You are so wealthy that you’ve grown accustomed to purchasing whatever you want. But you cannot win me over with extravagant presents. Allegiance cannot be bought.”

His blue eyes grew hooded. “I don’t deny trying to win you over, or that I would like you to be content in our marriage. But you mistake my motive in this instance. I was merely considering what you said about being dependent on me, about how powerless it made you feel. I thought having a residence to call your own would allow you a measure of independence. If you still wish us to go our separate ways once my heir is born, you can retire there and be free of me.”

Brynn stared at him, realizing she had misjudged Lucian once again. Rather than trying to win her affections with expensive gifts, he was offering her at least some small measure of choice for her future.

“I am grateful for your thoughtfulness,” she murmured finally. “Lucian…” She hesitated, trying to determine how to ask the question that had been burning in her mind for days. “If I fulfill my duty, will you allow me to retire to Wales alone?”

“I would want you to remain in London for your confinement since the best doctors are here, but afterward, you may go anywhere you like.”

“And leave our child with you?”

His eyes were unwavering. “Giving up my son is more than I’m prepared to do, Brynn. I would hire the best nurses, of course.”

“Of course,” she murmured more bitterly than she intended. She glanced down at Lucian’s gift, her heart aching at the choice she would have to make… wondering if it really was any choice at all. Could she possibly abandon a child of her flesh?

“What if I were to bear a girl instead of a boy?” she asked finally.

He was silent for a long moment. “Our agreement was for a son, Brynn.”

“So it was.” She closed the box carefully and set it on the desk. “Thank you for your gift.” Giving him a wistful, almost sad smile, she picked up her riding gloves and turned away without another word.

Lucian watched her go, grappling with his own tangled emotions. He no longer felt so adamant about wanting his child to be a son; a daughter might be just as satisfying. And if Brynn bore him a girl, he would have every right to demand that she remain with him until she fulfilled their pact to give him an heir. Admittedly not a selfless sentiment.

She wasn’t entirely mistaken, either, about his motives in gifting her with the castle. Whether consciously or not, he was attempting to buy her contentment. If Brynn no longer felt dependent on him, at his mercy, then she might willingly choose to remain with him.

And God knew, he wanted her to remain. More than he’d ever wanted anything in his life. He took a determined breath. Somehow he had to find a way to win Brynn’s heart. Love could bind them together more eternally than any marriage vows. Love could-

Lucian froze, startled by the alien notion that had crept into his thoughts. Love? Was that the name for his affliction? This all-consuming desire for his wife that gnawed at the roots of his being?

There was no question that he was obsessed with Brynn. Cursed or not, her beauty made him ache, her passion drove him mad with wanting. But love?

It had always been an elusive concept for him, yet he was undoubtedly behaving like a man caught in the throes of love. He’d seen two of his friends suffer the same torment. Both Damien and Nick had found passionate love when they least expected it.

He keenly envied the happiness they had found with their wives, Lucian admitted. And he wanted it for himself. For Brynn.

Lucian squeezed his eyes shut. Whether or not he loved her, she was a fever in his blood. He desperately wanted to make her feel the same fever. He wanted to bind her to him with primal need, to brand her soul with the fire that was searing him. And yet…

Opening his eyes, he stared down at the box. Considering her unenthusiastic reaction to his gift, his goal of winning Brynn seemed as far away as ever. And not because of any real incompatibility between them. His greatest enemy was a damned curse he didn’t even believe in.

“Is something troubling you, Brynn?” Raven asked a short while later as they rode together in Hyde Park.

Brynn forced her attention away from her dark thoughts and managed a brief smile of apology. “Forgive me, what were you saying?”

“Nothing of importance. I merely asked if you might like to attend a fair.” She pointed to a handbill nailed to a tree, advertising an upcoming fair to be held in Westminster.

Brynn edged her mount closer so she could read the touted list of entertainments: Jugglers, Puppeteers, Rope Dancers, Gypsy Fortune-tellers- The last words leapt out at her. She frowned, wondering if the band of Gypsies she knew from Cornwall would be performing at the fair. She seemed to remember they were usually in London this time of year…

Brynn drew a slow breath. If Esmerelda truly were here, perhaps she might be able to offer some advice. Perhaps she might even, Brynn reflected hopefully, help explain her dark dreams of Lucian.

Before she could reply, however, Raven gave a faint sigh. “No matter. I don’t suppose Halford would approve of my attending. He has very narrow opinions regarding the conduct of his future duchess, and I doubt a fair would fit into the acceptable category.” Her tone held a perceptible note of disappointment in her betrothed, but then she shook her head. “Still, Halford did loosen his starch enough to agree to my request for the balloon ascension this week.” With a determined smile, Raven spurred her horse on.

Brynn followed, although she cast a glance over her shoulder at the handbill, noting again the dates and location of the fair. If she could manage it, she would try to attend in the hopes that Esmerelda might be found there, for she desperately needed advice about her future with Lucian from someone who knew the deadly history of the Gypsy’s curse.

The curse remained the dark blot on Brynn’s horizon. She had attempted to repress the warnings of her conscience, yet she was brutally reminded of the danger a few days later when Lucian escorted her to the balloon ascension held by the Duke of Halford in honor of his betrothed.

Several brightly colored balloons awaited flight, Brynn saw with delight upon reaching the field on the outskirts of London. Her attention claimed by the spectacle, she accepted Lucian’s assistance from the carriage and was crossing the road on his arm when she heard the sound of galloping hooves. Brynn looked up to see a team of straining horses hurtling directly toward them, apparently out of control.