“I’ll apologize, Rowan, but it seems weightless after what I did to you. You had my word I wouldn’t hurt you, and I broke it.”

Unsure, she turned back, lifting the robe to her breasts instead of slipping it on. “Hurt me?”

“I wanted you, and I didn’t think beyond that. Deliberately didn’t think beyond it. I took what I pleased and I hurt you.”

It wasn’t annoyance in his eyes, she realized. It was guilt. And just one more wonder. “You didn’t hurt me, Liam.”

“There are marks on you I put there. You’ve tender flesh, Rowan, and I bruised it with carelessness. That I can fix easily enough, but—”

“Wait a minute, just a minute.” She held up a hand as he started forward. He stopped immediately, winced before he could prevent it.

“I don’t mean to touch you but to take the bruises away.”

“Just leave my bruises where they are.” To give herself time to sort it out, she turned away and slipped on the robe. “You’re upset because you wanted me.”

“Because I wanted you enough to forget myself.”

“Really?” She was smiling when she turned back, and was thrilled to see his eyes narrow in what had to be confusion. “Well, I’m delighted. No one’s ever wanted me enough for that. In my life no one’s ever wanted me like that. I never imagined they could. My imagination isn’t that … expansive,” she said.

It was she who stepped to him. “Now I don’t have to imagine, because I know.”

He combed his fingers through her hair before he realized he wanted to. Needed to. “I took your thoughts after you asked me not to.”

“And gave me yours. Under these particular circumstances, I’m not complaining.” She cupped her elbows, refused to be shy now. “What happened just now was thrilling. It was wonderful. You made me feel desired. Outrageously desired. The only thing that would hurt me is if you’re sorry for it.”

She was more than he’d understood, he realized. And her needs perhaps less … delicate. “Then I’m not a bit sorry.” Still, he took her hand, slid up the sleeve of her robe. “Let me take the bruises away. I don’t want marks on you, Rowan. It matters to me.”

He kissed her fingers, sending her heart into a long, slow flip. Then her lips, making it settle. As his lips rubbed gently on hers, she felt the cool slide of something over her skin. The tiny aches she’d hardly noticed faded away.

“Will I get used to it, do you think?”

“To what?”

“Magic.”

He wound a lock of her hair around his finger. “I don’t know.” You would know, a voice murmured in his head, if you looked.