Chapter 2

CHAPTER 2

“ Y e give me something ye’ve given to no other man.”

It took Diana a moment too long to fully comprehend his meaning. He wanted her to give herself to him... That was the only thing he could possibly mean. His gaze was still wicked, but there was an underlying warmth that had never been there with other men who had attempted to take liberties with her. She was both affronted and curious, because she was not repulsed by the thought of kissing this man, nor indeed doing anything else with him. He was intriguing, perhaps too much so, but she’d always loved a mystery. Her mother had warned her as a little girl that curiosity could be dangerous.

But wasn’t life supposed to be full of discoveries and explorations? Wasn’t curiosity meant to be satisfied? She licked her lips and challenged him.

“You would ask that of me?” She raised her chin and met him with a defiant stare.

“Aye, I would, lass. And I wager ye are brave enough to agree, are ye not?” he challenged with a sinful smile.

Diana was standing on a precipice. Her next step might send her spiraling into a world she wasn’t ready for. But not to move, not to take a step in one direction or another, was impossible.

This man before her took up the entire room with his presence, making the hunting lodge seem so very small, so very closed in. Yet she didn’t feel dwarfed by him. She felt... drawn in, if that were possible, like when a small flame touches tinder and reaches out, bleeding its heat into another tiny flame.

He was a stranger, yet something in her blood felt a... connection, like she was staring at herself, only in another life, another body, another gender.

Two sides to the same coin. It was a strange and eerie feeling to look into this man’s eyes and see herself reflected in their piercing stormy depths.

“I promise ye will feel great pleasure,” he said softly. “I am a stranger, but if ye trust me tonight ye willna have regrets.” He held the pearl necklace out to her, and she curled her fingers around it. Was this how Persephone felt when she sank her teeth into the juicy pomegranate seeds, knowing that she would forever belong to the lord of the underworld? For this highwayman was surely Hades himself, disguised in black breeches and a domino.

How could she even consider doing what he asked, let alone agree to it? A decent lady would rather die than give herself to a man like this. But she’d stopped feeling decent the moment her father had died and she’d had to do whatever she could to keep her home and her servants— her family— together. What was one more transgression against the rules of polite society, that same society that had failed to help her when she needed it most?

Her grip tightened on her mother’s pendant, and she swallowed past the lump in her throat. She nodded. She would do just about anything to keep her mother’s necklace. She had a feeling that being with this man might not be a hardship, that she might actually enjoy it. The way he watched her made her feel that was certainly possible. She’d heard whispers that the best lovers were often the most wicked, and this man was certainly that.

“I will do it,” she agreed.

Tyburn lifted her hand to kiss her fingers. His lips were soft, warm, and the gesture was oddly tender rather than seductive. “Then let us retire to my chamber.”

He led her into one of the rooms within the lodge that held a cozy little bed just big enough for two to share, leaving no question as to what would be happening this night. There was a washstand in one corner and a little armchair that had seen better days, with its faded blue cushions that had been crudely stitched back together in places. Tyburn kept a hand upon her lower back, the heat of his palm surprisingly welcome. It made her feel connected to him, as though they were together in a way that went just beyond what they would share in bed. It was the sort of gesture a gentleman did with a lady he was in love with, a lady he had the right to touch in a possessively tender way.

Heavens, when had she become so sentimental as to crave something like that? Diana shook her head, but it didn’t dispel the highwayman’s effect on her. Even the way he moved about the room, with slow, sure strides, and how his clothing fit him so perfectly as to reveal his slender hips and broad shoulders had her rapt attention. The man held her in his thrall by simply being . A flush rushed to her cheeks as a sudden noise from the outer room had her turning to the open door. She’d forgotten about the other man. Would he want to have her as well? Would Tyburn share her? She shivered with a new fear.

“What about your companion?” she asked as he closed the door, sealing them inside the little room and silencing the noises from the outer chamber.

“Cambridge willna disturb us,” Tyburn promised. Strangely, she trusted him. She relaxed, but only a little.

She turned to face the bed. Hesitation made her put her mother’s necklace on the little side table. She straightened and breathed deep, steeling herself. But he hadn’t grabbed her and thrown her down on the bed to take what he wanted. She let out a breath of relief.

He lounged against the closed door, a reminder that they were not to be disturbed, but also that she had no escape. While lust glowed in the man’s eyes, she also saw something softer there. Deeper. A melancholy born of longing. Her lower belly stirred with rebellious butterflies as she stared at him. He seemed so relaxed, so confident, whereas she felt as though a single breeze would knock her down.

I shouldn’t be frightened. He hasn’t hurt me, and I do not believe he will.

But Diana had never liked not knowing what came next. She liked to plan and strategize, and this wildly hasty decision to sleep with a stranger was now overwhelming her. How many other young maidens had stood where she was, seeing this man’s place of solitude and knowing they would share his bed?

“Do you often bring women here?” She asked her question a little too loudly as she tried to cover her anxiety. She focused on the sharp line of his jaw and what little she could see of the shape of his nose, which wasn’t much. She wanted him to remove the mask, to see if the rest of his face was as beautiful as his eyes and mouth promised him to be.

“Never,” he said as he slid his black greatcoat off his body.

“Truly?” That stunned her. She imagined he would have a great many women ready to come to his hideout with him and taste the dark magic of this man’s seductive powers.

“I wouldna lie to ye.” He shot her a sinful smile, but she strangely believed him.

Beneath his coat he wore a black waistcoat with a white shirt with billowing sleeves and fine lace cuffs. He cut quite an enchanting figure that no decent woman could deny. His hips were lean and his shoulders broad, and when added to his height, she could feel the physical strength rolling off him. His pale-blond hair and leonine smile gave him the grace of a jungle cat, with corded muscles barely concealed beneath his well-tailored clothing.

Diana shivered at the thought of taking such a body between her thighs. She had never made love to a man, but she knew enough about the act to know what to expect. Her housekeeper had told her of what occurred between men and women back when she’d been ready to debut. She had believed it was her duty to impart such knowledge since Diana’s mother had died. Still, knowing the generalities of what would take place, she couldn’t calm her sudden flush of nerves. She returned her focus to their conversation, trying to remember what she’d asked him.

“You’ve never brought a woman here?” She raised her brows as he began to unbutton his waistcoat.

“Too much of a risk, lass,” he replied. He slid off his waistcoat and draped it over the back of the single armchair in the little bedchamber.

“Then why risk it with me?” Her voice was breathless as he removed his cravat and tugged his shirt free of his black trousers.

“Because I believe ye to be the sort of woman a man would break every one of his rules for.” His words were spoken softly, yet with honesty rather than seduction. He held her gaze and she saw the words he hadn’t said.

Tyburn was lonely, just like her. She understood then why she’d agreed to this and what the desire between them could give her. She would share one night with him before they both returned to their own worlds. He would ride off into the mist and become a mere memory, one that she could draw upon during cold winter nights, and perhaps for a few hours she could banish the chill in her bones and the ache in her chest for things that were destined never to be.

He bared his chest and she stared at him, stunned by the sight of so much skin and the hard lines of his muscles. There was a knotted pink scar on his shoulder, yet it didn’t mar the perfection of his body. Without thinking, she reached up to touch it, then pulled her hand back.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to?—”

He caught her wrist and placed her fingers on the scar. “’Tis fine, lass. ’Tis an old wound. It feels better to have yer touch upon it.” He rubbed her wrist with slow, seductive touches of his fingers, which soothed and excited her all at once.

“How did it happen?” she asked.

His full lips thinned as if he meant to stay silent, but then he spoke.

“I stopped a coach a few years ago and robbed a woman rather like ye, lass. She was a little hellion and had a pistol hidden upon her. I didna expect a lady to travel armed, so after I took my prizes from the passengers, I rode away and she shot me. The bullet passed through the front... here.” He pressed her index finger to the scar. She moved around him to see the other scar on the back of his shoulder where the bullet had exited.

“Did you let the woman tend to you?” A prickle of an emotion she’d never felt so strongly before slithered under her skin, making her feel uncomfortable and oddly cross.

Tyburn chuckled and caught her chin with his fingers, grinning down at her. “Let the hellion tend me? Certainly not, lass. I rode away as though the hounds of hell were upon my heels. If I had stayed near her, she would have put another bullet in me.”

The green tint to Diana’s vision faded. He hadn’t desired that other woman, then, but did he desire Diana? She needed him to truly want her—it was the only way she could agree to this.

As if he could read her foolish thoughts, he leaned down until his mouth was an inch from hers.

“Ye are the only woman I’ve ever been tempted by, lass. So much so that I made an excuse to steal ye.”

Her breath caught. “I thought you wanted my necklace?” Her gaze dropped to his mouth. Lord, she wanted him to kiss her, wanted it more than anything in her life. And she was fully aware of how mad that was.

“I dinna need any more bonnie jewels, lass. I have hundreds here in this very lodge. No, when I took ye tonight, it was because I wanted ye. Ye are the only pearl I crave. From the moment I saw ye, I had to have ye. I’m risking my life and that of my friends, ye ken. Do ye sense the power ye wield now? Ye hold my fate in yer hands, lass,” he murmured an instant before his lips touched hers.

Her eyes fell closed as a fire blossomed to life within her. It was as though she’d lived in some cave before, watching shadows play upon the wall, and now for the first time she was stepping into the light, feeling its intoxicating burn. That was what it meant to kiss this man. It was to be reborn in fire and see a world that she could have only imagined before.

His lips gently urged hers apart. She tasted him and moaned in shocked surprise as his tongue thrust between her lips and flicked against her own. He threaded his fingers into her hair and cupped the back of her head, making her a tender prisoner to his lips. A sudden pulsing grew between her thighs, creating a fierce ache that drove her to clutch his shoulders and cry out when the sensations became too great. His lips left hers and he curled an arm around her waist, holding her up when her knees buckled.

“Are ye all right?” he asked.

“I hurt,” she breathed out in shameful confession. Her housekeeper had never mentioned this, the pain in her body, the pain from needing a man.

“Where does it hurt, lass?” He slid a hand up her chemise along her outer thigh, his fingers powerful, firm, commanding as he then slid them between the juncture of her thighs and touched her bare sex where it ached most. His exploring touch was light, a whisper of a caress. “Here?” His voice was rough, yet there was a gentleness to it as well.

“Yes, there... Oh! ” She jumped as he slid a finger into her. The sudden invasion, however gentle, was entirely unexpected. Her body felt like a keg of gunpowder that was sitting dangerously close to a sparking fire. Diana shuddered as he sank that finger even deeper into her, thrusting in and out in a rhythm that felt at first terrifying and then... wonderful . Her body responded to his touch with a sudden rush of slickness that made her flush with mortification.

“I... I’m sorry,” she whispered, and buried her face against his chest.

“For what, lass?” he asked, continuing to stroke her. He seemed unbothered by the wetness that was now coating his finger.

“I... am wet,” she confessed, and then shut her eyes, closing herself off from the deepening mortification.

“’Tis a good thing, darlin’,” he breathed in her ear. “’Tis natural. The wetter ye are, the easier and better I will enter ye. ’Tis a sign that ye desire me, lass.”

She lifted her face to gaze at him in scandalized wonder. “Truly?”

“Aye,” he chuckled. “For a fire drake, ye sure are innocent of flames.” He lowered his mouth to hers, kissing her softly, and she melted into his arms with a moan.

“My God, ye were made for pleasure, weren’t ye, lass?” His voice was thick with passion.

Diana found it difficult to think, let alone hear his words. Her blood pounded in her ears as she rocked against him, seeking something she didn’t understand. She knew only that she wanted to keep moving, to press herself against his body with his hand between her thighs.

“I do love it when a woman takes what she wants,” Tyburn growled as he added a second finger inside her, thrusting them deeper, harder , into her until she was squirming and whimpering. An explosive need for more built up until she was almost there —but then he pulled his hand from between her thighs, and she plummeted with a physical disappointment so strong she nearly shouted in frustration.

A moment later, she was raised up and placed on the edge of the bed. Tyburn took her chemise off her body and placed a hand on her chest, pressing her gently back so that she lay down on the bed, spread out naked before him.

“Ye are a bloody goddess, woman, a bloody beautiful goddess,” he groaned as he stared at her.

His words set her free in a way she’d never imagined she could be. This stranger had made her feel as if she was truly special. Tears pricked her eyes, but she fought the urge to cry with quiet joy.

His eyes flashed with fire beneath the mask he wore. Then he cupped his hands on her inner thighs and pushed her legs farther apart. She expected him to fall on her right away, but instead he knelt before her, his head bowed. A halo of candlelight illuminated his golden hair. He pressed his lips to her center and kissed the most sensitive part of her body. She was not one to believe in angels, fallen or otherwise, but damned if this man didn’t make her wonder if he’d once had wings, because he knew how to make her fly.

He dragged his tongue along the wet folds of her sex, and Diana screamed. She threw her head back and clutched at the bedding as he cupped her bottom and thrust his tongue into her. The sensation of pleasure was so strong that her body unleashed a flood of wet heat. She couldn’t form any words as she wriggled in encouragement.

“Lass, ye taste like honey,” he murmured in approval as she lifted her hips, eager for more of this most sinful kiss.

“Don’t stop!” Tears were streaming down her face. She had to have more, had to have it all with him. There was nothing in her head except that she wanted more .

“Beg me, lass. Tell me to ravish ye. Command me to take what I want from ye,” Tyburn growled before he tasted her again. His carnal words only made her burn hotter and her lower belly clench tighter.

“Oh God!” she screamed. “ Please. Take what you want!”

“Say the words, lass. Tell me to ravish ye.”

Why did his words make her feel as though she would never quench this desire raging within her? How could he send her spiraling so far out of control that she would bend to his will and beg him to take her?

“Give me the words,” he commanded again, and her control finally broke.

“I want you to ravish me. Take what you want, please !”

Before today she never would have begged a man for anything, but now with this man, the begging, the desperate hunger for him to possess her, made the fire in her belly swell into a blaze. She wanted to be under his control, knowing he would fly her to the heavens with pleasure and that she would give him the same in return. It was a unity of purpose, one that now set their decadent desires on a path to collide.

Tyburn stood up and unfastened his trousers, letting them drop far enough to expose his cock. She admired the length of him, surprised at its size. Curiosity got the better of her, but when she reached for it, he caught her hand with a wry chuckle.

“Lass, if ye touch me now, I’ll not be able to satisfy ye. I’ve not been so tempted by a woman since...” He trailed off, his gaze darkening with desire as his eyes roved over her bare body.

“Oh . . . I’m sorry, I didn’t . . .”

He released her hand and she lay back again, trying to calm her racing heart.

“I dinna wish to hurt ye, but I canna avoid this.”

She gave him a little nod. She knew enough to expect a little discomfort, and she was already aching for him. What more could her body take if she did not have him satisfy the hunger?

Tyburn grasped her hips, tugging her closer to the edge of the bed so that she lay open right in front of him. She stared down the length of her body at his massive shaft.

She had never seen one except on statues in museums, and those had never jutted upward nor had they looked so rigid. Before she could get a better look, he grasped her hip with one hand and used his other hand to guide himself inside her. He thrust in hard, deep, and the pressure of his sudden presence within her body caused a flash of pain. It was too tight, too hard to breathe, too much of everything. She whimpered at the discomfort. He bent over her, his gaze on hers as he held still, letting her handle the pain without causing more.

“That’s it, lass, breathe with me,” he crooned.

She drew in a breath at the same time as him, and together they repeated breathing together twice more. The pressure began to ease.

“There’s a good lass,” he said, and then kissed her hungrily. She welcomed his mouth on hers, and this sense that he was just as out of control as she was. This thing that burned between them was so much bigger than either of them.

She whimpered again when Tyburn moved inside her, but this time with stunned pleasure rather than pain. He kissed her a moment longer, then lifted his head and captured her wrists, pinning them on either side of her head. She was helpless, but rather than feeling afraid she was thrilled. He held her, grounded her when she would have flown away and been lost.

“Ye’re mine, my bonnie fire drake, ye ken?” he growled softly against her lips.

Yes—he owned her very soul in that moment.

Diana wasn’t ready for what came next as Tyburn began to drive himself into her. She lost herself in his blue gaze that cut clear to her soul. They became one beating heart, one breath, one burning fire as he thrust into her over and over. They were an unstoppable inferno, their shared desire an intense conflagration.

A delicious madness carried the old Diana off into the night, leaving behind a changeling creature she did not recognize. His grip on her wrists eased, but he didn’t let go. Instead, he surged deeper, his hips hammering so hard against her the bed creaked violently beneath them. It was animalistic, primal, an ancient rhythm that defied the dictates of polite society, and she wanted to laugh with the sheer joy of defying the rules that had curled such weighty anchors around her. She was breaking free, running deep into the lovely, dark woods where no one would follow, no one but this beautiful stranger.

His lips were moving, and it took a moment to realize he was whispering the word mine over and over as he gazed down at her.

She lifted her face and breathed the word mine back at him, which made his eyes glow like a warm lake reflecting the noonday light in brilliant flashes.

“Aye, lass, yours,” he agreed roughly. “ Always .”

No man had or ever would own her like this man owned her now. There would only ever be this stranger for her, in this moment, and in their memories forever afterward. She would never be truly alone. Tyburn would always be out there somewhere, dreaming of her as he removed his mask and laid his head upon his pillow each night. As if that realization was all she needed, the building pleasure shot even higher and she came apart, her mind blanking as her body bowed beneath him and she cried out.

He pounded into her even harder until he shouted hoarsely with his own release. His hips jerked reflexively, and Diana caught a flash of vulnerability in those cunning blue eyes. For a brief instant, the walls of Tyburn’s inner castle fell and she saw him, just him. It did not matter that he still wore a mask. She saw what she needed to see, a glimpse of the man he truly was. It was burned forever in her memory.

He rocked his hips slowly now in and out of the cradle of her thighs, and she felt the surge of a new softer heat begin. She clenched her legs tight around his hips, wanting to hold him within her forever. Diana didn’t want to lose that connection, and it seemed neither did he.

He feathered his lips over her cheeks, and she realized he was kissing away her tears as they streamed down her face. She was crying, but she couldn’t say why. She wasn’t in pain, but she felt cut open, raw down to the bone, as if he held her beating heart in his hands. No one had ever had that much power over her. It was terrifying and thrilling.

“Did I hurt ye, lass?” he asked after a moment. “Sometimes ’tis best not to be gentle the first time a man enters a woman. Better to break through the maidenhead quickly than too slowly.”

She shook her head. “It was uncomfortable, but only for a few moments,” she admitted.

“Stay still,” he warned as he gently pulled himself out of her. She winced at the soreness in her sex and then ached more with the loss of him.

He pulled the covers back from the bed, then lifted her up and settled her in the center. He removed the rest of his clothing. Once he was completely naked, he crawled into the bed beside her and blew out the candle. He still wore the mask, and it was almost impossible to see him in the darkness. He pulled her weary, sated body against his own, clutching her to him as if he feared she would vanish in the middle of the night. One of his hands gently cupped a breast, and the feeling was strangely comforting.

She wasn’t sure how long she lay in his arms, the comfort of the warm bed and the darkness wrapped around them while the rain tapped on the windows and roof of the lodge. Diana thought of nothing but the drifting peace of being skin to skin with this enigmatic highwayman. A man who had given her a gift rather than stolen one from her. And it was something she would hold on to as long as she could.

“Tomorrow morning, I shall escort ye to within walking distance of where ye were traveling to. I trust ’tis not far from where we stopped the coach?”

Her heart shuddered against her ribs at the thought of leaving. But she couldn’t avoid the discussion.

“It’s not more than three miles,” she guessed.

“Use my arm as a pillow, if ye wish.” He held out an arm, and she nestled her head against his biceps.

How strange that she would sleep so close to a complete stranger, and a brigand at that. She had let Tyburn take what she’d never planned to give anyone. A proper lady would’ve never done that, and if she had been that kind of lady, she would be filled with regret and shame. But Diana was so weary of the toll that society had placed upon her that she no longer cared what they thought.

All she cared about was her home and the servants who had been loyal to her and stayed to make a go of whatever they could with her.

Every offer of marriage she’d had in the last year had come from men who’d sought only her lands and money because they believed she was an heiress, which in a way she was. She’d turned down each, but she feared that someday she would face the choice between a loveless marriage or losing her home and the family she’d worked so hard to keep.

Why did men never suffer such impossible situations? Her father would have reminded her that life was not fair, but shouldn’t people want to fight to make it more fair? What was the point of anything, if one did not fight for fairness in the world?

Tyburn, seeming aware of her restless thoughts, made a soft shushing sound and pressed his lips to her forehead. His other arm draped around her waist, holding her.

“Whatever ye are thinking about, ye can think on it tomorrow. Tonight, my little fire drake, ye have conquered me. Ye should enjoy yer rest and bask in yer triumph.”

She had conquered him? Diana couldn’t see how that was possible. He had abducted her, ravished her—willingly, yes, but ravished all the same. She had been the one conquered, hadn’t she?

“Will you take off your mask and let me see you?” She reached up to touch his face and found the edges of the mask and began to slip her fingers under it, along the line of his jaw.

“Nay, lass. I’ve made enemies that wouldna be troubled at the thought of torturing my identity out of an innocent woman. The less ye see, the less ye ken, and that is better.” He grasped her hand and pressed a kiss to the inside of her wrist, which sent flutters of fresh excitement through her sated body.

“But I know your name,” she reminded him. “And I know that you are Scottish.”

“Am I, lass?” He chuckled. “Or am I something quite different?” He now spoke with an Irish accent.

“Your name isn’t Tyburn, then?” Startled, she lifted her head to stare at him in the darkness, where she could only see the faint moonlight that seemed to condense in his blue eyes.

“I am any man,” he now said with a Welsh accent. “I am every man.” This time with a Yorkshire voice. And it wasn’t just the accent that had changed. He was able to completely change the sound of his voice, so that it didn’t sound like the man she’d come to know in the last hour.

Diana wanted to know his name, wanted to see his face. She deserved to know the real man, the one who’d taken her virtue and given her such forbidden dreams. She deserved to know who might have left the quickening of new life inside her. She stilled at that sudden realization.

“I have a right to know who you truly are,” she said. “What we’ve done tonight... it might result in a child.”

To her surprise, this gave him pause. He was quiet a long moment, as if he realized he had not thought of the possible repercussions until just now. But what did she expect? He was a marked man, doomed to hang if he should be discovered. It was foolish to think he could take responsibility, even if he wanted to. Which was why his next words shocked her.

“I will meet ye in two months’ time, at the same place I leave ye tomorrow. If ye are with child, we will discuss what we shall do. Now lie down and sleep. I want the comfort of ye in my arms.” He nestled her into his embrace and pulled the sheets up close to their chins, keeping them warm.

Even though he burned like a fire in the deepest winter of her soul, new fears now spread like cold, insidious shadows between the flames. What would she do if she bore this highwayman’s child? He was a thief, a villain, a disreputable scoundrel. Their child would be beautiful and mischievous, of that she had no doubt. She would love that child with every fiber of her being.

But she could not weather the scandal of bearing a child out of wedlock. It could cost her what little she still had. Tyburn placed a hand on her belly, tenderly stroking her as he curled his arm back around her waist.

Diana’s heart shuddered. A child of her own, a child born of pleasure and sweet, glorious fire. Oh, that child would be loved fiercely. Diana let out a breath and closed her eyes, savoring what few hours she had left to ease the loneliness in her soul—and wondered who the man beneath the mask truly was.