“After Stephan killed me, he dumped me in a box and tossed me into a grave. Then he covered me up. I was out of it for three days. When I woke, I was in that box. I knew what it was, and I knew I was buried. I could hear Stephan laughing in my mind as I tore my fingers bloody trying to free myself. About the tenth day, when I was crazy with bloodlust and scared shitless, he told me he was the only one who could save me and to always remember who was in charge.” Dacian’s eyes were filled with self-disgust. “Then he told me to beg.” His laughter had nothing to do with humor. “And I begged. Loud and long.” He shrugged. “Finally, he let me go.”

“And you’ve hated him ever since.” Cinn knew she hated Stephan.

“Yeah.” He invested all the centuries of loathing into that one word.

Cinn needed something to drive the image of what Dacian had endured from her mind, something life-affirming. She had no doubts about what she wanted that to be. Not on the cot, though. Too narrow. She glanced around.

Without speaking, she stood and walked over to the large table in the middle of the greenhouse. Her worktable. Well, there was work and there was work. She carefully moved several plants to one side.

Then she turned back to Dacian. She didn’t say anything. She didn’t need to.

He joined her beside the table. “I want to make love with you.” His smile told her he was stating the obvious. “But I don’t want you to feel…” For a moment, he looked as though he were searching for the right words. “Okay, I know I have scars inside and out, but I don’t want them to have anything to do with why you make love with me. I want this to be about desire, not pity.”

She put her finger over his lips. “Have you looked in a mirror lately?” Cinn rethought that question. “Okay, maybe not. So let me explain. Any woman would want you. Of course, they would be lusting after your body.”

“And you don’t lust after my body?” His laughter had an edge of uncertainty to it.

“Definitely not.” She let her gaze slide the length of his body. Her interest snagged on the proof of his growing interest. “It’s all about your mind. You have a great mind. It’s long, and hard, and—”

“My mind is up here.” He tapped his forehead.

“Oh.” She looked up at him and smiled.

He knew it was going to happen. Here. Now. In this greenhouse, in the dark, surrounded by plants that were wiser than plants should ever be. And he didn’t give a damn. He reached for her.

“Wait.”