Alex refrained from suggesting the obvious method for two people to keep warm on a cold night.

“There might be someone behind us on the trail,” he said. “’Tis nothing to worry about, but we’ll wait until morning to build a fire.”

The icy pellets caught in her hair as Glynis helped him tie two corners of the blanket to a tree and stake the other corners to the ground with sticks.

“Duck inside while I take care of the horses,” he said. “I’ll be back shortly.”

The wind was picking up as he led Rosebud and Buttercup into the brush by the creek that ran along the base of the valley.

A mix of hail and icy rain pelted his face as he hurried back to check on Glynis. When he crawled inside their makeshift lean-to, he found her shivering so hard that her teeth were chattering. Alex swore he could hear the fairies laughing as he put his arms around her and rubbed her back. The scent of her hair filled his nose. How could a woman smell so good after a long day of riding? He forced himself to release her as soon as she stopped shivering.

He opened the bag with their dwindling supply of food. “I’m afraid it’s dried beef and oatcakes again.”

“It tastes wonderful,” Glynis said, ripping a hunk of the meat off with her teeth.

She ate with an enthusiasm that had him imagining her other appetites. Lord above, sleeping in such close quarters with her was going to make this an even longer night than the others.

“Have some ale,” he said, handing her the flask. Ach, he needed whiskey.

“This is bound to put me right to sleep,” she said with a smile, as she handed it back.

There was only one thing that would put him to sleep. Laying her back on the blanket and making love to her two or three times.

“We had a long day of riding,” she said.

He took a long pull from the flask, his mind on another kind of riding.

“I haven’t thanked ye properly for all you’ve done for me.” When she lowered her eyes, her eyelashes fanned against her cheekbones. It was a reflection of the state he was in that he found this unbearably arousing.

“Thank ye for bringing me with ye even though ye didn’t want to, and for helping me escape Duart Castle without being caught. And for remembering the food and blankets, and stealing the horses, and telling me stories, and keeping me safe… and… for everything.”

Alex heard the hesitation in her voice but didn’t know what it meant. He cursed himself for hoping she was getting up her courage to suggest they make love until neither of them could walk.

“Well, good night then.” She lay down abruptly and curled herself into a ball.

The storm made it seem later than it was, and Alex wasn’t tired. In the dimming light, he watched the rise and fall of her chest. He took another long drink of the ale, wishing again he had something stronger.

A sigh escaped him as he unfolded himself and felt the heat of her body along his side. He stared at the blanket strung above them, bouncing in the wind. Until the last few nights, had he ever slept beside a woman without making love to her first? Nay, he was quite certain he had never suffered this particular form of torture before.

He was so hard that if Glynis breathed on him he might explode.

“I’m freezing,” she said, and huddled closer to his side.

Alex gritted his teeth and pulled her into his arms. When she rested her head on his chest, he lay still and tense, trying to control his breathing. For the hundredth time, he reminded himself that he never bedded virtuous women—especially unmarried ones—and it would be wrong to take advantage of the situation.

And yet, desire, dark and twisted, tested his will like the storm pounding against their fragile shelter. He wanted her deeply, and he wanted her now.

He wanted to bury his face in her hair and taste the salt of her skin on his tongue. To roll her on her back and feel her long legs wrapped around him as he buried himself inside her. Now. Now. Now.

Though Alex wished he could pretend otherwise, this throbbing lust was for Glynis alone, and only she could slake it. Her intensity drew him; her seriousness challenged him. He wanted to shatter her self-control, to set a torch to her steady calm, and to hear her cry his name as she turned into liquid fire beneath him.

When she rolled to her side, he rolled with her, desire pulling him as if she were a lodestone. Tension curled in his gut as he breathed in the fragrance of heather and pine in her hair. Squeezing his eyes shut, he rested his hand lightly on her hip.

The storm outside was nothing compared to the tempest raging inside him. After all the women who had come so easy, it was as if a special hell had been devised just for him, trapping him under this small lean-to with a woman he could not have.

Perhaps God was a female after all.

*  *  *

The howling wind woke Glynis, and she huddled against Alex, cocooned in the heat of his body folded around hers. She’d never slept with a man’s arms around her before—if she didn’t count her husband falling into a drunken stupor on top of her after he was done poking her.

The dim gray light of dusk still filled their shelter so she had not dozed long. With Alex lying behind her, touching her, she would not get back to sleep soon.

Alex was in a deep slumber, judging by how still he was. She felt edgy and restless. When she scooted closer against him, she felt his shaft, hard and urgent against her bottom. If he were awake, she’d have to move away. His hand moved to cup her breast. Each time she moved it away, it returned as if it belonged there—when, of course, it had no business being there at all. She felt guilty, but so long as he wasn’t awake to know she liked the feel of his big hand covering her breast, was it truly a sin?

Did she care if it was a sin?

“Glynis.”

She sucked in her breath at the sound of Alex’s voice in her ear.

“I can’t be responsible if ye keep moving against me like that,” he said. “I’m begging ye to stop.”

The devil made her press against him.

“Ahh, ye feel so good,” he said, and she sighed with him as he ran his hand all the way down her side to her thigh and back up again.

She willed him to do it again. When he did not, she rolled onto her back to look at him. He propped himself up on his elbow and leaned over her with his face so close that she could feel his breath. Unable to resist, she cupped his cheek with her hand. The scratch of his rough beard felt good against her palm.

“We can’t do this, Glynis.”

“Why not?”

Alex gave her that smile that always made her stomach leap. “Ye know the reasons.”

Glynis had been responsible all her life—putting her clan first, taking care of her sisters and brother, offering guidance to her father, whether he took it or not—and what had it got her? Magnus Clanranald was what. Doing as she ought had bought her a foul husband who shamed her—and who would murder her now if he could.

“Ye kissed me before. What’s the harm in doing it again?” She ran her tongue over her top lip, remembering the taste of his mouth on hers. “Kiss me, Alex.”

His eyes went dark, and he clenched his jaw for a long, long moment. When he finally gave in and leaned down, her stomach tightened in anticipation. The moment his lips touched hers, fire spread beneath her skin. She pulled him down into a deep, openmouthed kiss. Aye, this was what she wanted.

The heat from his body sizzled through hers. Her breasts ached, her head spun, and she felt as if she were falling backward, though she was flat on the ground. When he cupped her breast, she moaned into his mouth. Their legs became entangled as their kisses grew deeper, more frantic. She wanted to feel his weight on her, to feel his bare skin beneath her fingers.

But Alex broke away. His gaze was smoldering and his breathing harsh.

“’Tis is a dangerous game you’re playing.” His fingers shook as he brushed her hair back from her face. “One thing is bound to lead to another.”

“I’m hoping it will.” Glynis wasn’t sure when she had decided that she wanted it all, but she had.

Magnus had been such an oaf. He had claimed it was her fault that she didn’t warm to his touch, but she understood now that Magnus hadn’t the slightest notion how to touch her. She wanted to know what it was like to feel passion in the night, and she would never have another chance.

Or a better man to show her.

“Ye may think this is what ye want,” Alex said, “but ye don’t really.”

“I do.” Her fingers still gripped the front of his shirt, and she wasn’t letting go.

“Perhaps ye do right at this moment, but ye would regret it later.” He sighed as he traced the side of her face with his finger. “I don’t want to be a regret.”

She shook her head vehemently from side to side. “I won’t regret it. I promise.”

Alex gave her a faint smile. “Then I will. Ye are precisely the sort of woman I avoid bedding.”

Her stomach clutched, and she turned her face to the side.

“What’s wrong with me?” she asked, her voice coming out high and thin.

“Ach, ’tis not that I don’t want to,” Alex said, grazing his knuckles against her cheek. “I’ve never wanted a woman this much.”

No doubt he was stretching the truth, but there was such longing in his voice that she did believe he wanted her.

“Then why not?” she asked.

“Ye would expect more of me than I am able to give,” he said in a soft voice. “Ye would want me to be there tomorrow and the next day—and a year from now. I can’t make a woman happy for that long.”

“You’re wrong about what I want,” she said. “I don’t want a husband—but I do want this.”

He made a low sound in the back of his throat that sent a thrill vibrating through her.