She stopped in front of him, the ache inside her growing, the need, the yearning for him to open his arms as he had before and pull her protectively against him.

"I couldn't sleep. I saw the lantern burning. I thought…"

She saw him move in the darkness, closing the short space between them. "I'm glad you came." She felt his fingers encircling her wrist and then he was leading her forward, down to the far end of the barn and into the small room he occupied, opening the narrow wooden door and drawing her in.

He closed the door and left her for a moment. She heard him moving in the darkness, the sound of flint striking tinder, then a candle flared and his shadow appeared on the wall. The room, she saw, was tidy, the narrow bed perfectly made, the blanket on top carefully tucked in. A bowl and pitcher perched on top of the bureau at the side of the room and a ladder-backed chair rested in the corner. A pair of brown breeches were neatly folded on the seat and a pair of worn, high-topped leather riding boots sat on the floor beside the chair.

"Welcome to my humble abode." His smile was faint, his dark eyes intent. The slight curve of his mouth slipped away altogether as he looked at her standing there in her nightclothes.

She glanced down at her yellow quilted wrapper and tried not to feel self-conscious. "I know I shouldn't have come but I…" She shook her head, her voice trailing off a second time. What could she tell him? That she needed him? That somehow he had become important to her? That Mary's death continued to haunt her and he was the only one who might understand.

"But you what?" he pressed, standing close again, moving so quietly she hadn't heard his footsteps on the rough wooden floor.

She glanced away, uncertain now, thinking that perhaps she should simply turn and leave, go back to the house and her empty room.

She felt his fingers on her chin, turning her to face him. "I know why you came, Vermillion—we both know—even if you aren't ready to admit it."

Framing her face between his palms, he lowered his head and his mouth came down over hers. It was the gentleness that surprised her, the unhurried claiming, little more than a brush of lips. There was mastery in the kiss, a promise of things to come, yet his lips were so soft they seemed to melt into her own, to blend and sink into a perfect union.

Slow heat enveloped her. Warmth slid into her stomach, seeped out through her limbs, seemed to wrap around her. The kiss went on and on, a coaxing, lingering, mind-numbing kiss that took and gave and seemed to have no end. He teased her lips apart and his tongue slid in, and the bottom dropped out of her stomach. Her breasts swelled beneath the heavy quilted wrapper and her nipples tightened, turned sensitive where they rubbed against her cotton nightgown.

Caleb's tongue entwined with hers and heat washed over her. He kissed her one way and then another and her legs began to tremble. She clutched the front of his full-sleeved shirt and kissed him back, wanting to please him, using her own tongue as he had done. Caleb groaned into her mouth and his arms came around her. He kissed her even more deeply and the trembling in her legs moved through the rest of her body.

She had tied back her hair before retiring. Caleb slipped the ribbon from the end, then combed his fingers through the heavy dark red curls, spreading them around her shoulders. The quilted wrapper magically slipped away. The little pink bow closing the drawstring at the top of her nightgown fell beneath the skill of his hands. The opening parted and he slid the garment off her shoulders and down over her breasts. Caleb kissed her as it pooled in a soft heap at her feet.

He drew back to look at her and she could feel the heat of his eyes burning into her. She resisted the urge to cover herself but only just barely. Caleb leaned over and kissed her again. He trailed kisses along her jaw and she felt the warmth of his mouth on the skin beneath her ear, the glide of hot, open-mouthed kisses along her neck and shoulder. One of his big hands cupped a breast and he started to knead the fullness, to shape it into his palm.

A wave of pleasure washed through her. Goose-bumps raced over her skin. He kissed his way to her breasts, bent his head and took one into his mouth, and the fire he had kindled roared into a blaze. His mouth was like hot, wet, silk and everywhere he touched her seemed to burn.

Lee clung to his powerful shoulders, feeling the tension there, no longer able to think, no longer caring, filled with desire and every moment sinking deeper under the spell he wove around her. She slid her fingers into the silky dark hair curling at the nape of his neck, and her head fell back, giving him better access to her breasts. Caleb tended one and then the other, sucking them into his mouth, laving and tasting, tugging on the ends. He left them swollen and aching, her heart pounding savagely and her body filled with a longing unlike anything she had known.

"Caleb…" she whispered, her hands trembling as she slid them beneath his shirt, desperate to touch him as he was touching her. Reaching down, he dragged the garment over his head and tossed it away, and in the flickering light of the candle she could measure the breadth of his shoulders, see the indentations that marked his ribs, the deep contours of muscle shadowed by the flickering candlelight. A thatch of curly brown hair spread over his chest and arrowed down to his waist and her fingers inched to know the texture, to discover the feel of it against her skin.

Caleb pulled her back into his arms and kissed her again. As he had rightly guessed and she had only suspected, she had come to him for this, come so that he could guide her in this joining of a man and woman that was destined to become part of her future.

His hands skimmed over her body, moving lower, cupping the womanly place made to receive him. She was wet, she realized as he began to touch her there, slick and hot and ready to accept him inside her. She thought that he would move to take her, but instead he began to stroke her, parting the folds of her sex, caressing her lightly, slowly, then penetrating more deeply, his fingers sliding into her again and again.

The flames returned, hotter than before, the craving so strong it was nearly pain. She hadn't known, though she should have suspected. Should have guessed from the women's whispered words and knowing glances, but until now, until Caleb, she hadn't imagined the clawing need, the scorching desire a man could ignite in a woman.

She made no protest when he lifted her into his arms and carried her over to his narrow bed, just slid her arms around his neck and rested her head against his shoulder, trusting him to guide her. As he settled her on the blanket and began to remove his breeches, her eyes widened at the heavy part of him straining upward against his belly. He was long and thick, like the stallion she had seen with the mares. But she knew that a woman was made to accept this part of a man, and that a man was often measured by the length, breadth, and hardness of his shaft. If that were so, Caleb was quite a man.

She closed her eyes as he came up over her, parted her thighs with his knee and settled himself between her legs. He could feel her trembling, she knew, but he wouldn't guess her secret, not yet. Aunt Gabby had woven the web of deceit too well, sparing her the boundaries she would have faced if her innocence had been suspected, protecting her behind a curtain of mystery that had made her one of the most sought after women in London.

He was kissing her breasts again, laving the tips with his tongue, making them quiver and tighten. A faint whimper came from her throat and she tangled her fingers in his hair.

"I want you," he said. "God, Vermillion, I want you so much." He covered her mouth with his, kissed the side of her neck. When he started to repeat her name, she pressed her trembling fingers over his lips to stop the words.

"Not tonight, Caleb, please. Tonight, won't you please call me Lee?"

Something shifted in his features. She wasn't sure what it was, but when he kissed her again, the gentleness was gone. It was a fierce, claiming kiss, a wild, possessive kiss, and pleasure streaked through her, hot and wet and almost painful in its intensity. She clung to his shoulders as he eased her legs even farther apart and she felt his hardness begin to slide inside her.

She thought she would be afraid, but she felt no fear, only a sense of joy and an odd feeling of pressure that continued to expand, filling her with a powerful need to join with him. He pressed himself deeper, but as slick and wet as she was, he couldn't seem to fit.

For the first time, worry struck. Dear Lord, perhaps she was too small. Perhaps something was wrong with her. Perhaps she truly was different from the rest of the women.

"Caleb… ?"

"You're so damned tight." Beads of perspiration broke out on his forehead. "I didn't expect…" He kissed her hard. Kissed her deeply and thoroughly until she was wetter still and desperate for him to take her. He thrust his tongue into her mouth at the same instant he drove himself hard inside her.

Her body spasmed, tightened in pain, and a cry tore from her throat.

Caleb went utterly still. He looked down at her and she saw the confusion, saw the instant he realized what had just occurred. "It can't be. No." He shook his head. "It isn't possible."

Lee barely heard him with the little sobs creeping out and her eyes filling with tears.

"Goddammit! What the hell is going on?" He wrenched himself so violently out of her body, pain shot through her again.

She tried to struggle free of his heavy weight, but Caleb pinned her to the bed. He propped himself on his elbows and held on to her wrists. "You can't be a virgin. It's impossible. You're Vermillion. You've had countless lovers."