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“Your scars are beautiful,' he said, and there was a swift, swelling motion in my chest that couldn't be deflated no matter what my brain yelled at it. 'But I refuse to allow your body to be scarred again.' My heart started thumping once more. 'You say that like you mean it.' 'Because I do.”

“Have I told you that you're beautiful?' 'What?' The shift in conversation threw me. 'I might have, but I couldn't remember if I did,' he went on, tugging gently on the strap. 'Then I thought that it wasn't something you could say too often. You're beautiful, Poppy.' My stupid, stupid heart skipped. 'Is that why you decided to wake me up in the middle of the night?' 'You're beautiful.' HIs head tilted, and I gasped at the feel of his lips on the longer scar on my cheek. He kissed that one and then the shorter one, above my eye. 'Both halves, and you should never question why anyone would find you utterly, irrevocably, and distractingly beautiful.' The skipping was back, but I ignored it. 'That is a lot of adjectives.' 'I can come up with more.' 'That won't be necessary,' I advised. 'So, now that you've told me this, you can get off me.' He smiled against my cheek. 'But you're comfortable, Princess.”

“Half of her face is a masterpiece,' the Duke murmured, and my skin flushed cold and then hot as my stomach twisted. 'The other half a nightmare.' A tremor coursed down my arms, but I kept my chin high and resisted the urge to pick up something, anything, and throw it at the Duke's face. The Duchess spoke, though, saying what, I wasn't sure. Hawke's gaze remained fastened on mine as he stepped forward. 'Both halves are as beautiful as the whole.”

“You are...' His stare was intense and unblinking, as he sheathed his sword at his side. 'You're absolutely magnificent. Beautiful.' I jolted, shocked. He'd said that I was beautiful before once he saw my face, and he sounded like he'd meant it then. But now? He'd spoken words which too often meant nothing and too rarely meant everything.”

“It's just that... gods, there are a lot of reasons why I don't understand how you can be this intrigued. You've seen me.' My faced heated and I sincerely hoped he couldn't see it. I hated saying it, but it was a reality. 'You've seen what I look like-' 'I have, and I think you already know what I think. I said it in front of you, in front of the Duke, and I told you outside the Great Hall-”

“I'm not afraid to speak the truth. He may be powerful, but he's just a weak man, who proves his strength by attempting to humiliate those more powerful than he is. Someone like you, with your strength? It makes him feel incompetent- which he is. And your scars? They are a testament to your fortitude. They are proof of what you survived. They are evidence of why you are here when so many twice your age wouldn't be. They're not ugly. Far from it. They're beautiful, Poppy.”

“There is one more thing I need. Something that I've needed for days. Weeks. Months. Maybe forever.' The bridge of his nose brushed mine. 'But I know you won't allow it. Not like this.' The pounding in my chest moved lower. 'What... what have you needed for so long?' 'You.' I shuddered. 'So, maybe, just for a few minutes, when no one is looking- when there's no one but us- we can pretend.' Leaning into the cupboard, I felt dizzy, as if I weren't getting enough air into my lungs. 'Pretend?' 'We pretend that there's no yesterday. No tomorrow. It's just us, right now, and I can be Hawke,' he said in the heated space between us. I shook once more. He touched my cheek, sending a bolt of awareness through me. His fingers drifted over my chin, my lower lip. 'You can just be Poppy, and we can simply share a kiss.' 'A kiss?' He nodded. 'Just pretend.' His lips now a whisper against my cheek. 'Just a kiss.”

“You did what you needed to do to survive. I hope you truly believe that.' Casteel didn't answer, and when I looked over at him and saw the vast emptiness in his expression, my heart ached. Because I knew. I knew he didn't. And all I wanted was to bring warmth back to him. 'I still want to stab you.' His head shot in my direction. 'Just not as frequently,' I amended.' One side of his lips curled up, and then he laughed. The sound was rough and a little hoarse, but it was real. 'I would be disappointed if you didn't.' I looked forward, smiling. 'That is such a weird statement.' 'What can I say? I have a thing for women with violent tendencies.' 'That doesn't sound any better,' ...”

“Did you really think you'd escape me?' Casteel asked softly. Anger was sharper than any blade, far more welcomed than the hopelessness. 'I almost did.' 'Almost means nothing, Princess. You should know that.' I did. 'I'm not walking back to that keep.' 'Would you prefer that I carry you?' he offered. 'I would prefer never to see your face again.' 'Now all three of us know that's a lie.”

“You still out there, Princess?' My lips parted as my eyes widened at the sound of his voice. Hawke. It was Hawke. In that room. I couldn't believe it. 'Or have you fallen to your death?' he continued. I briefly debated the merits of jumping. 'I really hope that's not the case since I'm pretty positive that would reflect poorly on me since I assumed you were in you room.' A pause. 'Behaving. And not on a ledge, several dozen feet in the air, for reasons I can't even begin to fathom but am dying to learn.”

“I hope you realise that no matter what anyone has ever told you, you are more worthy than anyone I've ever met.' My heart squeezed in the best way. 'You haven't met enough people, then.' 'I have met too many.' He lifted his chin, kissing my forehead. He leaned back, sliding his thumb along my jaw. 'You deserve so much more than what awaits you.”

“I... you're perfect.' His expression tightened. 'No, I'm not. You deserve someone who is, but I'm too much of a bastard to allow that.' I shook my head, unsure how he couldn't see that he was deserving. 'I disagree with everything you just said.' 'Shocker,' he said, and then he curled his arm around me.”

“I plotted to take you from everything you knew, and I did, but that's nowhere near the worst of my crimes. I've killed people, Poppy. There is so much blood on my hands that they will never be clean. I will overthrow the Queen who cared for you, and many more will die in the process. I am not a good man.' He swallowed hard. 'But I am trying to be right now.' ... 'I don't want you to be good.' Without even realising it, I had lifted my other hand, fisting the front of his shirt. 'I want you.”

“There's a lot we need to talk about, Poppy.' 'There is.' Namely the whole marriage nonsense. 'But talking doesn't require you to be shirtless.' 'Talking doesn't require any clothes at all.' That smoky grin of his returned. 'I can promise you that some of the most interesting conversations take place with no clothes to speak of.''' Heat blasted my cheeks. 'I'm sure you've had a ton of experience with those types of conversations.' 'Jealous?' Propping his elbow on the arm of the chair, he rested his chin in his palm. 'Hardly.' The grin increased, and even though I couldn't see the dimple beyond the fingers splayed across his jaw and cheek, I knew it had to be there. 'Then... distracted?' 'No,' I liked, and then lied some more. 'Not even remotely.' 'Ah, I understand. You're dazzled.' 'Dazzled?' A surprised laugh almost broke free. And there it was again, the slight widening of his eyes, the parting of his lips, and the absence of arrogance. It was like watching him slip off a mask, but I had no idea if what was revealed was just another mask, especially when the look disappeared as his features became unreadable again. I exhaled slowly. 'We don't need to talk about your over-inflated ego. That has been long since established.”

“You're... you're nothing like I expected.' The way he said that sounded so genuine that some of my irritation eased. 'Was it my skill with an arrow or the blade? Or was it that fact that I took you to the ground?' 'Barely took me to the ground,' he corrected. His chin dipped, and his lashes lowered, shielding his odd eyes. 'All of those things. But you forgot to add in the Red Pearl. I never expected to find the Maiden there.' I snorted. 'I imagine not.”

“I hate you.' I scrambled to fold myself back up into my blanket cocoon. 'See, that's the problem. You don't hate me.' I had no response to that. 'You know what I think?' 'No. And I don't want to know.' He ignored that. 'You like me.' My brows knitted together as I stared out over the small clearing. 'Enough to be wildly inappropriate with me.' A pause. 'On multiple occasions.' 'Good gods, I'd rather freeze to death at this point.' 'Oh, right. We're pretending none of that happened. I keep forgetting.' 'Just because I don't bring it up every five minutes doesn't mean I'm pretending it didn't happen.' 'But bringing it up every five minutes is so much fun.”

“This is highly inappropriate,' I muttered. His answering chuckle stroked my nerves in all the wrong- and right- ways. 'More inappropriate than you masquerading as a wholly different kind of maid at the Red Pearl?' My jaw snapped shut so quickly and tightly, I was surprised I didn't crack a molar. 'Or more inappropriate than the night of the Rite, when you let me-' 'Shut up,' I hissed. 'I'm not done yet,' he said, his chest pressing against my back. 'What about sneaking off to fight the Craven on the Rise? Or that diary-?' 'I get your point, Hawke. Can you stop talking now?' 'You're the one who started this.' 'Actually, no, I did not.' 'What?' A low laugh left him. 'You said, and I quote, "this is wildly, grossly, irrefutably...' 'Did you just learn what an adverb is today? Because that is not what I said.' Hawke sighed. 'Sorry.' He didn't sound sorry about it at all.”

“Is this why you led me out here to this place?' 'What is this, Princess?' 'To be... inappropriate.' 'And why would I do that?' he asked, his voice dropping low as his hand touched my arm. 'Why? I think it's pretty obvious, Hawke. I'm sitting in your lap. I doubt that's how you normally hold innocent conversations with people.' 'Very rarely is anything I do innocent, Princess.' 'Shocker,' I muttered.”

“Tell you what, I'll make you a deal.' 'A deal?' 'If I do anything you don't like...' Hawke's hand slid down my thigh, causing my breath to catch. Through the dress, his hand closed over the dagger. 'I give you permission to stab me.' 'That would be excessive.' 'I was hoping you'd give me just a measly flesh wound,' he added. 'But it'd be worth finding out.' I grinned. 'You're such a bad influence.' 'I think we've already established that only the bad can be influenced.' 'And I think I already told you that your logic is faulty.”