versus pain. I know myself better, if that makes any sense.”
A tight sound vibrated in his throat. “I hate that ye ever… that it’s ever been anything other than pleasure for ye.”
She was silent a long while. So long that Daroch could hear the cogs turning behind her ears. “I get the sense that perhaps it has not always been pleasure for you either.”
He refused to discuss it. “Aye, well, not everyone’s senses can be acute.”
“Stop implying I’m stupid every time I’m right about something you don’t want me to know,” she snapped. “It’s a loathsome tendency and it reveals more than it protects.”
Daroch gaped at her. Christ, she was too perceptive sometimes. He preferred to be surrounded by idiots. They were easier to fool, to intimidate, and to control. “Ye’re right… Forgive me.”
She smiled and he was instantaneously gifted with the return of her good humor, “That’s twice in one night.” Her elbow passed through him with a few ghostly nudges. “One for the history books, is it not?”
His lips trembled with a poorly repressed smile. “Most definitely.”
“So you’ve never…” she pressed.
“Never… what?”
“Never—you know.” She waved a hand a looked away, he blush intensifying.
“I doona know,” he smirked. “I’m a Druid, I’m no mind reader.”
“Oh for heaven’s sake,” she elbowed at him again. “What we did! What I did.” Her hands flew to her face to cover glowing cheeks. “I don’t even know what to call it. But in all your centuries, you’ve never… done that?”
Daroch chuffed. “Exactly the opposite, I spent a great deal of my tender years perfecting the art.”
Her hands dropped to her sides. “On women?”
The sharp note in her voice didn’t escape his notice. Daroch took one look at her stricken expression and a laugh burst from him. Slowly at first, as though remembering how to abide, then with more vigor. “On myself,” he managed between spasms of amusement. He put a hand on his ribs as they subsided. “Until the lasses would let me,” he admitted honestly. “Then most of my untried efforts were focused on them.”
Her eyes had gone round and luminous, and she watched him laugh as though witnessing something rarer than the lights above them. The speed at which they narrowed with displeasure was equally astounding.
“Them?” she turned the word over on her tongue and frowned. “I question the moral character of any woman who would let you.”
“Ye did,” he chuckled.
“Don’t be ridiculous, that was different,” she insisted.
“’Tis what most of the lasses say,” he taunted.
“Most…” Her frown deepened. “How many were there?”
He grinned, thoroughly enjoying himself, and shrugged. “I was a pretty lad.”
She huffed, clearly incensed.
“If it makes ye feel better, they’re all long dead now.” He sped his walk to hide his smug smile, knowing she’d chase him, and looking forward to it.
“Oh are they? All scores and scores of them? You’re horrid,” she accused, catching him easily. “I could just kick you.”
He chortled. “Nay, ye couldna if ye tried!” And for some reason, that sent him into more fits of mirth.
She scowled. Though obviously fighting a begrudging smile. Her shoulders began to shake as small gasps escaped through her nose first. Before long, they’d stopped walking and were both bent over, holding onto their sides as humor held them prisoner. Their laughter tangled with the sea breeze and was carried across the moors by ribbons of celestial color.
Kylah straightened first, taking a sighing breath while Daroch wiped a tear of amusement from his eye.
“Our humor is dark.” Her voice was still warmed by laughter.
“It matches our thoughts,” he mused. “Our pasts.”
“Aye,” she murmured.
Their eyes locked.
She blinked.
He swallowed.
Daroch felt something very powerful sizzle in the air between them. It vibrated on a frequency that could only be found in silence, but contained untold volumes. Its language consisted of internalized desires floating upon words like “maybe” and “what if.” It was the surge of rebellion against fate that turned a fleeing man’s galloping horse in the opposite direction. It changed the courses of exploring sea fleets and sometimes, the fates of entire civilizations.
So charged with this energy, Daroch took a step toward her.
She retreated, tucking a glossy auburn curl behind her ear. “Where are we going?” she asked with false brightness, turning toward their previous course and setting off slowly, taking her glow with her. “What business have you this evening?”
He fell into step beside her, letting the moment pass with a mixture of relief and disappointment. “If you believe it, I’m on my way to finish milking my fig