he'd invited her. Something must have come up, otherwise he would have called, surely? And she didn't feel comfortable with the idea of calling him.
When Sunday rolled around and she still didn't hear from him, she began to feel doubts crowding into her mind. She kept telling herself that his parents must have come back early and that was why he hadn't called to invite her over, but that didn't explain why he hadn't called to tell her.
She knew the moment she arrived at school Monday morning that she'd been the butt of yet another hateful joke. Ordinarily, she walked among her classmates like a ghost, invisible unless they were feeling particularly nasty and mooed when she walked by.
Today, that had changed. They began to smirk and whisper at her approach, giggling. Sickness welled in her stomach, but she kept her expression carefully blank and pretended not to notice. It was the only thing that had ever worked at all—not that it worked all that well, but, mostly, so long as she pretended to be unaffected, they lost interest pretty quickly and moved on to someone else to torment.
Except for a handful of people, who either looked at her with pity, revulsion or the sort of horrified fascination freaks evoked, everyone in the school that she passed looked as if they would burst out laughing.
She found out why when she got to her third class.
Emily, who'd always clung to her, more Maggie suspected because she thought Maggie might protect her than from any real sense of friendship, had given her the same horrified look of fascination that she'd seen on so many other faces. So sick with dread now that she felt like she would throw up, Maggie finally felt a surge of something she could deal with—anger. “What?'
Emily gulped. “It's just ... was that really you in the video?'
The bile that she'd been holding at bay rose to the base of her throat. Maggie swallowed convulsively several times. “What video?” she asked hoarsely.
'The one Danny put on the internet.'
It had taken every ounce of courage and fortitude that she possessed, more than she'd known she possessed, to make it through the rest of the day. By the time she'd gotten home, she was seriously considering suicide. She couldn't face that again. She just couldn't. Not only had he hurt and humiliated her in bed, but he'd made it a public spectacle, shared it with everyone. The boys had barked at her as she'd trudged through the halls heading home.
It was only in the wee hours of the night, when she'd wracked her brain for some method of killing herself that she could actually contemplate that she'd finally realized that they'd win if she did. They would have beaten her. They would be gloating and giggling over the fact that they had the power to so destroy her that she'd taken her life.
She hated them all. She wasn't going to give them the satisfaction.
Chapter Seven
Maggie's crying pulled Danior back to the present. He curled his hand around the back of her neck and pulled her against his chest, holding her while she sobbed against his chest.
It took all his strength to withstand the rage tearing inside him at what they'd done. The insane urge to leave the safe house and hunt them down gripped him. His arms shook with the effort to control himself.
Her shudders brought him down from lunacy.
That was why she'd hidden herself away all these years. Why she didn't date. Why she hated men and resisted her attraction to him.
They'd scarred her and made her hate herself, and she'd turned to food for comfort while shielding herself from the outside world.
He wanted to kill them for what they'd done. Again, the urge surfaced to hunt them down and make them beg for the mercy and compassion they'd failed to give her. They would not find him so forgiving.
He had to force his heart to calm its galloping, force his hands to remain tender at her back, when all they wanted to do was tighten into fists to strike down those who'd hurt her.
'Shh,” he soothed, rubbing her back as he calmed her and himself. “I'm sorry, so sorry....'
'It's ... it's not your ... fault,” she said haltingly, sniffling as she tightened her arms around his chest. The shudders wracking her had eased to the smallest tremor.
'I know it's not, chere,” he said, brushing kisses over the top of her head. He almost imagined he could taste the berry scent in her strawberry locks. “I'm sorry for your pain.'
She pulled away from him, rubbing her eyes and the wetness from her cheeks. “Don't be. I'm over it. I was over it a long time ago. It was just some stupid high school prank. I don't even know why I cried about it. It must be that time of the month.'
He regarded her a long moment while she composed herself. “You're not.” He stroked a forefinger down the hollow of one cheek. “It's not always like that. Some men can be trusted.'
'I haven't found one yet,” she said, looking away. She got up and moved to the fire, stoking it with the poker.
He stood and came up behind her as she straightened, hugging her from behind. She shivered in his embrace, rubbing her hands on her arms for warmth.
Slowly, he brushed her gilded locks away from her neck, pressing his lips there in a tender kiss. She stiffened, her breathing quickening.
'Don't pull away from me,” he breathed into her ear, smoothing her chill bumps away from her arms to close his hands around her wrists.
'No one wants me. You don't. It's all a mistake,” she said, her voice breaking.
'I want you, Maggie. More than I should ever want a woman. I don't deserve you. I never did.'
She turned slightly in his arms, craning her head, looking up at him with doubt, with hope. He held her gaze one heart stopping moment, letting her see the truth in his eyes, then he brought his lips down on hers.
How could he say something like that? He was so beautiful, he made her hurt just to look at him. But something in his eyes spoke to her, more than his words did.
Maggie gasped as his warm lips closed over hers in a kiss as hungry as his eyes. His tongue pushed past her lips, sweeping into her mouth voraciously, igniting instant, painful need deep in her womb. He freed one wrist, cupping the corner of her jaw as if afraid she would escape him.
She could no more leave him now, deny herself this kiss, than she could cease breathing.
She turned, pressing her chest against his, molding herself to him to soak in his heat. Warmth radiated from the flames at her back, but the man holding her heated her more, deep inside.
He was ravenous, holding the back of her neck, forcing her to bend her head to accept his kiss deeper, more intimately than she'd ever thought possible.
His tongue surged inside her mouth, carrying with it the taste of him, hot and sweet and unbelievably enticing. His hunger threatened to consume her. She groaned against his lips as his tongue tangled erotically with hers.
Her heart quickened its pace. She couldn't drag enough air inside her lungs, had to fight to keep the oxygen flowing inside her. She felt faint, wanted to run from her reaction to him. But she couldn't break their desperate connection, and his gentle touch masked a strength that wouldn't allow it regardless.
A rush of excitement surged through her, hot, filled with anticipation that made her sex ache with it. She moaned as his wandering hands found her ass and cupped her cheeks to crush her against him. Her pussy clenched on a hard spasm of desire. Her breasts throbbed at the pressure of his chest, making her nipples harden to painfully swollen peaks. The line of her stomach, molded to his, jerked with each ragged breath, forcing her breasts to rub against his chest and increase the sensuous ache there.
He massaged her ass cheeks, bringing her hard against his groin until the thick erection trapped inside his pants rubbed against her mound with a sensual promise that turned her knees to water.
She locked her hands around him, clutching his silk clad back as if she would fall without support. The
