LITMIR.BIZ

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to scatter the drops where they’d shake away. Would they work the same way now, he wondered, to draw away a woman’s tears?

      Instinctively he tightened his arms around her and she burrowed closer. The image of her bravely swinging the musket at the wolf was burned forever in his consciousness, along with the sickening lurch he’d felt deep inside when he’d realized what it would take to save her. And he’d done it; he hadn’t failed her. But he couldn’t remember the last time a woman had turned to him like this, and he longed to give her the comfort she needed. Aye, that was all, comfort, to ease her fears like a brother or a friend.

      Like hell that was all, he thought wretchedly, as if he could ignore her womanly scent or the soft warmth of her breasts pressed against him. Like hell was exactly what it was. He’d warned her not to trust him. Why the devil hadn’t she listened?

      “I thought—thought I was going to die,” said Rachel raggedly, hiccuping with her sobs. “I thought everything was—was going to end, and I was so seared, and—and oh, I’m such—such a silly coward!”

      He smiled in spite of himself. “Oh, hush, that’s nonsense. Whatever else you are, Rachel Lindsey, you’re no coward.”

      “No?” Her voice squeaked upward, and she pulled back to look at him, but not so far that she’d be free of his embrace. Furiously she dashed at her tears with the back of her fist. “Then why—why else am I crying so?”

      “Because you’re wise enough to know you’re mortal,” he said as he gently traced his fingers along her cheek, her face so close to his. “Frightening thought, that. Because you know how sweet life can be.”

      He kissed her then, and she didn’t stop him. The wolf, and the gun misfiring, and now Jamie’s lips on hers—none of it was real. Swiftly she parted her lips for his, swaying into him as she let herself become lost in his kiss. This was the sweetness he’d spoken of, the dizzying richness of pleasure and life that she hadn’t wanted to abandon.

      Her palms flattened against his chest, pressing against his shirt to feel the steady beating of his heart. She was glad his was steady, for her own was racing like a rabbit across a meadow. The taste of him, the maleness of his desire, stole her breath away and made her limbs turn to butter. His hands slid lower, following the curve from her waist to her hips, and she shuddered as he pulled her closer against his long, hard body.

      Yet she wanted this; no, she needed it, more than she’d realized was possible. This fire of a man’s kiss on an icy morning and the heady security of his arms around her proved that she wasn’t alone, that someone cared whether she died or lived.

      The same pleasures she’d once believed she’d find with William. With her husband.

      With a shudder she shoved herself back, tucking her wayward hands beneath her arms. “I didn’t mean anything by that,” she said with a swift, ragged urgency. “Nothing, you understand?”

      He didn’t move to reclaim her again, instead standing impossibly still before her. “Nothing at all?”

      “Nothing,” she declared, the lie so great she nearly winced.

      “Then that’s a great pity,” he said softly. “Because I did.”

      She prayed the same half-light that masked his expression would hide her own guilty flush, as well. “That’s—that’s not possible.”

      “Aye, it is.” He turned away and went to prod the dead wolf with his toe. “Kissing you could never be meaningless, Rachel Lindsey. I wouldn’t have done it otherwise. Nor, I think, would you.”

      Some place near her heart tightened in her breast. “You must not say such things.”

      “Even if they’re true?”

      “They can’t be,” she said, bowing her head beneath the weight of her shame. “You forget that I’m married.”

      “True enough. I kissed the woman, not the wife.” He sighed deeply, staring down at the dead wolf instead of her. “But if it displeased you, I’ll try not to do it again. I can’t swear an oath to it—I’ve kept that much of my father’s beliefs—but I will give you my word. That should be enough.”

      The tears smarting behind her eyes were dangerously close to spilling over. What else had she expected from him? That the foolish dreams she’d whispered to him when he’d been delirious would turn real?

      He’d saved her life just as she’d saved his, with the same justice and decency that ruled the frontier. She was the one who’d erred by falling into his arms, and he could hardly be faulted for expecting more. Men always did. Hadn’t she learned anything from William and Alec? At least Jamie Ryder was simply doing what she’d claimed she wanted, to be left alone as any decent married woman would wish.

       Kissing you could never be meaningless, Rachel…

      Fiercely she rubbed her sleeve across her eyes. If he could be so unbearably calm about this, then she could, too. She’d just survived being attacked by a wolf. She wasn’t going to let herself be felled by her own misplaced emotions and a handful of empty compliments.

      “Billy must be stirring by now,” she announced in a voice as loud and stilted as a town crier’s. “He’ll be wanting breakfast. I’d best go.”

      “Not until you tend to your stock, you shouldn’t,” said Jamie. “That’s the whole reason you came out here, isn’t it?”

      “But Billy—”

      “When I left Billy he was sleeping as deep as a boy can, and I’d wager he is still.” He bent to slide his fingers along the weathered gray deals of the barn, seeking and finding the loose board that the wolf had been digging at. “You look after your milking, and I’ll mend this.”

      Silently Jamie counted to three, then ten, putting off the inevitable moment when he had to turn and face her. He had no choice, not with her standing between him and the barn door, but he still wasn’t sure he could do it. Once he’d had her in his arms, he’d forgotten every vow he’d sworn to himself.

      A woman as good and honorable as Rachel Lindsey didn’t deserve to be handled like some backwoods strumpet. It shouldn’t have mattered one whit that she was also one of the loveliest creatures he’d ever seen. She had trusted him and he’d taken advantage of that trust until she’d been forced to remind him she was married, and even then she hadn’t berated him the way he’d deserved.

      But what was worse, what disgusted him more, was that he knew he’d kiss her again in a moment. Even now he could feel his body grow hard at the memory of how her soft lips had parted for him, innocently welcoming his intrusion just as she’d welcomed him into her home.

      But no more. If he’d a mite of decency left in his weary soul, he’d never touch her again. Swearing to himself, he gave one final desultory kick to the loose deal on the barn with his moccasin and slowly walked toward her.

      “Come along, now,” he said as he tried to smile. “I’ve no mind to cross Billy if he’s expecting a cupful of that milk when he wakes.”

      How it pained him to see the way she stepped back, away from him!

      “You’ve shaved,” she said, her voice oddly breathy.

      “Aye, this morning.” He held the barn door open for her to slip inside. “I didn’t know when I’d next see a mirror or hot water, so I took advantage of the kettle on your hearth while I had the chance.”

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