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“Who is the Maid of Lorne and what does she desire?”

“I am a woman with no father and no family and no home to call her own. I am a woman who gave herself to her enemy. I am the Maid of Lorne no more.” Her voice shook in its desolation.

Sebastien walked up behind her. Reaching out, he slipped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her back against him. Lara did not pull away. He whispered in her ear.

“Do not despair, Lara.” The emptiness in her gaze unsettled him, and he acknowledged that he would rather face her anger or her confusion than this melancholy.

“You asked me once what I want. What does Sebastien of Cleish want? I want you, Lara. I want to hold you and feel your body as it heats to my touch. I want you to open to me and I want to fill you with myself.”

He took a step closer and she took one back. Finally he pulled her into his arms and kissed her the way he’d wanted to all night. Indeed, the way he’d wanted to since the night they were wed.

The Maid of Lorne

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