A muscle flexed in his cheek.“Do you really want to know?”
She didn’t, but she heard herself saying, “Yes.”
He tucked the mouse in the wool shirt that lay on the ground and moved toward her, a scowl on his face.When he reached her, he leaned down, and Shea suddenly realized his intention and her mistake.
She tried to move, but his hand captured her arm and held her.“You know what they say about curiosity?”he asked.
His head lowered, and his lips captured hers, hard and demanding.Shea tried to twist away, but she couldn’t and, worse, she found herself responding.The part of her that had responded to him since the first time she saw him was betraying her, humiliating her as he meant to humiliate her.
She found her lips meeting his, found her body moving toward his.She felt the heat that always came from him, and it penetrated her, binding them in ways entirely new to her.
Shea had been kissed before, light, fanciful kisses but nothing like this, nothing that burned, dominated yet pleasured.Her lips softened for his, and she felt his gentle for a second and then harden again, as if he regretted the momentary lapse.
But it didn’t matter.Nothing mattered except the feelings fomenting in her body, as if she was finally experiencing the true essence of being a woman.It was wonderful, and it was terrible.
His arms went around her, and she felt his arousal, and that ignited more explosions.His kiss deepened, his tongue invading her mouth.She should protest, should struggle, but she no longer had a will of her own.Her legs were weak, her stomach in turmoil, her heart pounding.It was as if something, or someone, else had taken over her body.
Dear God, what was she doing?He was trying to punish her, and she, she …
Shea wrenched away and turned from him, not wanting to see him, not wanting to watch victory spread over his face.
She felt him behind her, felt the whisper of his breath on the back of her neck.She heard his low, hoarse words.“I’m … sorry.I said I wouldn’t … hurt you if you behaved.That … shouldn’t have happened.It won’t again.”
Shea sensed pain in his voice and turned to face him.“Give up your vendetta against my … father.”
“No.”Harshness was back in his voice, as were the grim lines in his face.“Don’t take my apology for anything more than it is, an apology for one moment that shouldn’t have happened.It changes nothing.”
“Why?”
“That’s something else you don’t want to know,” he said.“Remember the response to your last question.”
“But you said it wouldn’t happen again.”
“Perhaps not that, but I wouldn’t mind locking those questions away in the cabin.”His voice was hard now.“Don’t test me any further, Miss Randall.”
She swallowed, needing to get away from the intensity of his presence, of her own reactions.“Five minutes?”she asked, referring to his offer from what seemed hours ago.
He looked at her thoughtfully, and for a moment she wondered whether he had changed his mind.
He had.“I think I want your promise, after all,” he said.Her feelings must have been obvious again.All she wanted to do now was run and run and run.Because of that kiss.Because of the confusion he stirred in her.
And she would do anything, promise anything at the moment, to do that.“Just this one time?”
His mouth quirked again, and she knew he found her battle between expediency and honor amusing.
“All right,” she said ungraciously.“And when I get back?”
“You will stay with me, or locked in the cabin.”
She wanted to say she would prefer the cabin, but she didn’t.Who could prefer darkness to light?Candles to the sun?
Except she wasn’t sure whether the darkness inside wasn’t preferable to the Devil in the sunlight.
Chapter 8
Rafe put the trout on the spit and placed them over the fire in the cabin and went back out.He had given Shea Randall five minutes.How many had gone by?Four minutes.Perhaps five.He didn’t see her.
He wondered whether he had been a fool.Prison must have affected him more than he’d imagined.Otherwise, why in the hell was he attracted to the daughter of Jack Randall?
