"I see." One brow rose haughtily, her chin lifted.

Despite his good intentions to remain distant and wary, he liked her. Especially when she used that prim, annoyed tone as a defense. He pictured her as a teacher, and not for the first time, wondered exactly what it was she'd done before. "Fun is easy, Haley. Everyone likes fun."

"It has its time and place," she admitted. "But there are other things."

Her blue eyes were full of mysteries he could only guess at as she watched the rain fall. "Like what?"

"Like responsibility."

"Something I'd guess you'd be very good at." Because he couldn't resist touching her, he tucked a wayward strand of silky dark hair behind her ear. "What is it you really do, Haley?"

She licked her lips when he stepped closer, but didn't move away or object. "I told you, I'm a housekeeper."

"Now, maybe."

"You don't think I've done this before?"

Nellie had told him she'd caught Haley sitting on the kitchen floor, avidly reading the directions on a bottle of pine-scented cleaner, muttering to herself. She'd thought it cute and meticulous, but to Cam, it told him much more than that. It told him she wasn't used to using it. "You're avoiding my question."

"And you said you weren't going to ask me any," she reminded him.

He smiled, though it was a struggle. He wanted her to open up, to tell him she wasn't normally a person who hid things, who lied. That she had a really, really good reason for doing so now. Fool that he was, he'd probably believe her. "I said I wouldn't push you about where you'd come from and what you'd done. And I won't. This was just a harmless question, part of our casual conversations. You know, from one person to another."

"And therefore," she concluded, lifting a brow, "a different matter entirely, right?"

"That's right." Yeah, he really liked the way she got all huffy and pompous. It suited her. And stirred his juices. "So, are you going to tell me?"

"No." She glanced over at the next sharp flash of lightning while he tensed. The thunder rumbled. The rain still fell, dripping off the patio, creating an intimate aura. She turned her head back to his and once again, their faces were only inches apart. Slyly, he slipped an arm around her waist.

"Kind of clichéd, isn't it, Cameron? Using a storm as a scene of seduction?"

"Only if it works," he said, laughing, loosening up again. "Is it?"

"Not a chance."

"Ouch," he said good-naturedly, experienced enough not to back away. Yet. He was pleased that her breathing didn't seem so even, because his had all but stopped. Her skin glowed softly in the soft light from the kitchen window. The cold had added a touch of color to her pale cheeks. Nellie's sweater, a little too big for Haley's thin shoulders, kept slipping down, giving him tantalizing glimpses of more creamy skin that he ached to touch. The burst of arousal didn't surprise him so much as experiencing it here, now, with her. She was someone he wanted to help. That was it.

But already, she'd become far more.

Tread carefully, he told himself. This one had thorns. Well, so did he. "I know it's not all men because I've seen you smile at Zach and Jason, so why me?"

"Why you what?"

Their bodies didn't touch except where his arm curled around her waist, but the electrical current running between them made it feel as if they were. He could almost feel her soft curves resting against him. "Why are you so wary of me?"

"I'm not," she replied, dropping her gaze. But she raised her hands and pushed him back a foot or so.

He went willingly. "I don't bite. I'd like to, but I won't."

Her lips twitched and that sparkle he liked to see so much in her eyes came back. "I'd bite back."

Laughing, he dared to step toward her again. "Want to play?"

She shook her head, her eyes still smiling.

"Don't suppose you'll invite me to walk you back to the guesthouse?"

"With a man who's already threatened to bite?"

He sighed. "Guess we'll have to do it here."

Alarm flashed across her face. "Do what?"

Slowly, very slowly, he drew her against him, keeping his gaze locked on hers. "Dance in the rain."

"There's no music," she said, sounding breathless. Her hands were fisted tight against his chest, her entire body rigid.

"Of course there is, darlin'." He slid his hands around her waist, realizing just how tiny she was. "Listen to it," he whispered, then fell silent, willing her to relax, to hear the incredible beat of the storm that crashed all around them.

He twirled her around the porch to the rain and thunder, until she relaxed slightly, then even more. When he dipped her, she clutched at him, startled, then smiled in genuine pleasure. He did it again-to see that smile, to feel her hold him, appreciating the little laugh she gave when he bent her low over his arm.

More rain, more thunder, and still they danced. Haley settled against him, holding on to his shoulders and moving easily. The fluid way she swayed against him had him pulling her closer, nuzzling his face in her hair. "Fun?" he murmured.

"Well… maybe, yes, a little."

He whirled and twirled them slowly about the wooden patio in tune with the falling rain, enjoying how perfect she felt in his arms, the heat of her skin beneath the sweater.

Contrasts, he thought. The woman was full of them. Fire and ice. Sweet and wary. Her arms slid up his shoulders, glided around his neck. He rubbed his cheek against hers, reveling in the abandonment with which she finally let go.

He wondered if she'd do the same when making love.

The thought brought him up short. He didn't deny a definite sexual pull, but since Lorraine had nearly destroyed him, he'd preferred the slow, lazy route of getting a woman to bed. He liked the chase, and the control. But right now, he didn't feel so leisurely, or in control, and he didn't think this was a good thing. Haley had done funny things to his head, as if he'd had too much wine. He wanted to run with her through the rain, toss her onto the cottage bed and bury himself in deep.

Yet she was lying, hiding. He badly wanted to believe that she was just another unfortunate victim in a cruel world, but he couldn't be sure. Was there a violent ex? Or something far more sinister, such as she'd committed a crime?

No, he wouldn't picture that. Couldn't.

Sucker, claimed the cynical little voice inside his head.

"I hear the music," she whispered.

"Me, too, darlin'." Her thighs bumped against his. He could smell the storm in her hair, feel the silkiness of her skin and he was going crazy. "You feel good, Haley. Real good." Finding his lips near her ear, he sank his teeth into the soft lobe, smiling when she shivered. He knew exactly what was happening to her because it was happening to him, too. He dipped her again, but she didn't laugh this time. And he saw that her eyes were closed, her mouth open a little as if she needed to force air into her lungs. Good Lord, but she did something to his insides. It startled him, for she hadn't been honest, and ever since Lorraine, honesty had been a major criterion for him.

He couldn't seem to help himself.

He brought Haley upright, cruising his lips along her jawbone, making his way toward that delicious-looking mouth. He was hard just thinking about the things he was going to do to those lips, but before he got there, she slapped a hand against his chest, drew a ragged breath and leaned back.

"Wait."

He blinked, and Haley watched warily as those brown, glazed eyes focused in on her. "Wait?"

She shook her head, unable to believe how she'd lost herself in that dance. "Don't kiss me."

He stared at her for a minute. Her heat slammed against her chest as his hands made one last sweep down her spine before he released her and took a step back.

"Don't kiss you," he repeated.

She managed a quick smile. "You sound like a parrot."

"Sorry." He winced, ran a hand through his hair. "That was some dance, Haley. We'll have to do this again sometime."

No chance of that, she silently promised herself. The man was simply too smooth. Far too smooth. She considered herself as unsensuous as they came, but even she had nearly melted into a little pool of longing at his feet when he'd run his hands over her back. "I don't think so."

"Now that's a challenge," he said, leaning back against the railing. "But you look beat, so it will have to wait for another time." The rain had stopped. He took her hand, tucked Max in his other, and walked them to her little house. At her front door, he set down the puppy and smiled. "You're okay when you let go, Haley. And a great dance partner."

"Flattery won't get you a kiss." She had no intention of encouraging him.

"Ah." He sighed. "And you say such nice things."

Laughter babbled, but she didn't dare vent it. He'd just take it as an invitation.

"It's good to have you here." His eyes were unusually serious. "Are you going to stay?"

She went from amused to instantly wary. "What makes you think I'm not?"

"Do you really want to get into that?" he asked softly.

She had an image of death and mayhem. "No," she managed, though the weak woman in her wanted to throw herself down and weep out her troubles. "No," she repeated, more firmly. "But… I'm not sure how long I'll stay." Maybe only as long as tomorrow, she thought with a burst of sadness, if the USGS thought they could help her.

Cameron looked as if he wanted to say more, but he didn't. His sharp eyes shuttered again, but still she saw a flash of temper, reminding her this man could be much more than a handsome cowboy. His expression was carefully blank now, and very distant, which for some reason, made her want to cry. "I've… never danced in the rain before," she admitted in a conciliatory voice.