Andrea Kane by Legacy of the Diamond Page B

how it was time for him to even the score, to make the Huntleys pay. The servants and I threw them out. But I remember Chilton’s expression vividly: there was murder in his eyes.”
    “You think he—or they—killed your parents?”
    “Just Chilton,” Slayde corrected. “And, yes, I do—although the authorities were never able to prove it. As for Lawrence, he’s too weak to kill anyone, although Lord knows, the intensity of his hatred is more than sufficient to incite murder. And he’s certainly clever enough to manage it—when he’s sober. But he isn’t strong enough to wield the weapon; he’d sooner hire another to do it for him, someone like the bastard who seized your father’s ship. Now that is the type of method Lawrence would employ. In fact, the more I consider it, the more convinced I am that he is the orchestrator of that entire plot. Tomorrow, I intend to learn the truth. And when I do, a segment of justice will have been served. Generations of Bencrofts may have gone unpunished, but the current Duke of Morland will pay—he and his pirate conspirator.”
    Slayde felt a tremor run through Courtney’s body. Blinking, he jerked back to the present, staring down at her face and seeing tears gather in her eyes.
    “I’m sorry,” he murmured, his thumbs capturing the moisture as it trickled down her cheeks. “I don’t know what possessed me. The last thing I wanted was to frighten you with my family history.”
    “I asked for the details,” she managed to choke out. “And you didn’t frighten me. At least no more than I already was. All you did was make me aware of the extent of your hardships. Dear God, Slayde, you’ve endured so much—far more than I.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “Yesterday, you said you would undo my loss if you could. Well, right now, all I wish is that I could undo yours.”
    The earnest proclamation of empathy was the last reaction Slayde had expected and the most impacting one he’d ever endured. Although he’d never discussed his family history before tonight, he was nonetheless acutely aware of the ugly speculation the Huntley name inspired. In the past, those with whom he associated fell into one of three categories: the few who were blessedly ignorant, the handful who were perversely intrigued, and the predominant group, who were altogether terrified—of the Huntleys and their demonic curse.
    Not so Courtney. Here she was, gazing up at him with a wealth of hurt in her eyes—hurt not for herself, but for him. She wanted to undo his suffering, to eradicate his pain. And why? Simply because she cared.
    Something profound moved in Slayde’s chest, soothing his remembered anguish in a rush of warmth. “That’s the most selfless offer I’ve ever received,” he heard himself mutter, realizing even as he said it that it was true. “Thank you, sweetheart.”
    The endearment, uttered in a tender, husky voice, was more intimate than a caress…and just as pivotal, given the heightened emotion spawned by the past few minutes.
    An invisible barrier was traversed.
    Their gazes met and held, Courtney’s eyes widening as awareness flickered in the sea-green depths, her lips parting as if in question—and invitation.
    Slayde’s heart began slamming against his ribs, a compulsion like none he’d ever experienced propelling him forward. Acting on that compulsion—and on a pure instinct he’d never known he possessed—he lowered his head and captured her mouth under his.
    The world shifted—permanently.
    It was Slayde’s first coherent thought as he tasted her, molded the delicate contours of her lips to his, warmed and stilled her trembling with his mouth. She tensed, quivered, then melted against him, her small fists knotting in his shirt, her soul seeking whatever replenishment he could offer.
    He offered—but was it for her sake, or his?
    The question vanished, unanswered, lost beneath the extraordinary feeling building between them. Slayde slid down on