Beauty Tempts the Beast (Sins for All Seasons #6) - Lorraine Heath Page 0,102

to press her lips together, and to draw in one unsteady breath after another. It was as though this woman whom he’d seen demonstrate courage countless times was unable to find it now.

“It won’t hurt you.”

She opened her hand, fisted it back up. “That’s not my worry. Will it hurt you?”

He wouldn’t experience any physical pain, but depending on her reaction there could still be hurt. “No.”

Very slowly, she placed the flat of her hand where his shoulder curved into his neck and glided it up, stopping at the spot where his pulse thudded in his throat. For a moment she just waited as though counting the beats of his heart, and he wondered if she realized each one was for her. Tentatively, she slid her fingers up, the strands of his hair brushing over them. Another minute of stillness, looking into his eyes, before directing her attention back to where her fingers trembled slightly. A deep breath from her. None from him. She slipped her hand beneath the fall of his hair, raised—

A tiny pleat formed between her brows. She lifted higher. She released her hold on the sheet and it dropped down to reveal the magnificent breasts that he’d denied himself the sight of in light, but his gaze only darted down for a second because he was too mesmerized watching her expression. It had yet to reveal horror. The hand no longer clutching the sheet cradled his other cheek, and she shifted her eyes over to hold his gaze. “You haven’t an ear.”

“No.”

“What happened?”

“I was born without it.”

“Can you hear?”

“Not on that side. Sometimes I cock my head so nothing escapes my good ear. I’ve learned if I watch the movement of people’s mouths, I can discern the words I might not have heard clearly.”

“You always sit me to your left.”

“I don’t want to miss hearing a single word you utter.”

“And they cruelly called you Beast because of this, something over which you had no control, something nature inflicted upon you?” A spark of anger hardened her voice.

“Children, yes. Beast, monster, devil. Mum would keep our hair short to decrease the likelihood of lice. Eventually, I wouldn’t let her cut it. But even then, if I got into a scrap, it would be uncovered. And the taunts would begin. I can’t tell you how many noses my brothers bloodied trying to get them to stop. Or how often I ran off because I didn’t want anyone to see how I hurt, to witness any tears I couldn’t hold back. I don’t think they meant to be cruel. I was different, and I think the difference frightened them, because they feared it could have been them. Then one day I decided if I called myself Beast, if I pretended that it was of no consequence to me if I wasn’t exactly like them, I would take away their power to hurt me.”

“You thought I would taunt you?”

“No, I thought you would look at me as you are now—as though I’m to be pitied.”

“I don’t pity you. I feel sorrow that others were cruel to you, especially when you were just a lad. If you’ll give me their names, I’ll arrange to best them at four-card brag.”

The last thing he’d expected was to smile, to release a small laugh, to feel such a lightening of his heart.

Leaning in, she brushed a kiss just above the spot where his pulse beat, and her tenderness caused his chest to tighten.

“In my eyes, you are no less perfect, Benedict Trewlove.”

Ah, Christ. All the tension flowed out of him like a river rushing to the sea. He claimed her mouth. He was far from perfect. She, on the other hand, was all goodness and light.

Placing her hands on either side of his head, she drew him back, held his gaze. “I love you all the more for the way you have faced the challenges of your life. Douse the lamp and make love to me.”

With a grin, he pushed her back down onto the bed. “No, this time I think we’ll keep the lamp burning.”

She loved the freedom of plowing her fingers through the thick strands of his hair, cradling his face between her palms. The first time she’d done it, he’d stiffened, and at that moment she’d disliked every person who had ever made him feel . . . less. And she’d realized with sudden clarity that one of the reasons he understood her so well, had known what she had needed