Chapter 6

" H e'll get over it ," Gavin said in a low voice as he lifted Kate onto her horse the next morning. "You scared him last night. It's natural for a man to strike out when he's afraid."

She tried to smile at him as she gathered the reins. "Thank you for your concern, but you need not worry."

"Oh, no." Gavin smiled ruefully. "You're pale and pinched as a corpse, and Robert has buried himself so deep, I can't even talk to him. Nothing is at all wrong."

She carefully avoided glancing at Robert as he mounted his horse. Even if she looked at him, she would see nothing for her. All during the morning meal he had been as cool and remote as those mountains they were going to climb today.

"You don't understand," Gavin said urgently. "He didn't mean to—He's not a cruel man."

No, it was not cruel to reject what you did not want. It was Gavin who did not understand. It had been her own fault, her own stupidity and blindness, but she did not have to continue being stupid. "How far is it to Craighdhu?"

He nodded at the mountains. "On the other side we'll see the sea. We travel a day along the coast, and we'll be on MacDarren land, another day and we'll be at the crossing."

Relief poured through her. "Then we're almost there. How long will it take us to get over the mountain?"

"The trail is good. Robert and I have made it before in two days."

She would soon be quit of this terrible intimacy she had once thought so wonderful. At Craighdhu she could surely find a way to avoid Robert until a year had passed. "A week then?"

Gavin glanced at Caird and then to the gray sky to the north before shrugging uneasily. "If all goes well."

It couldn't go worse, Kate thought. Sebastian in all those years had not managed to inflict a wound as deep as the one she had suffered last night. She kicked Rachel into a trot. "Then let's get on with it."

The piebald fell to his knees, his sides heaving as he struggled to get thin air into his lungs.

Kate stopped with a low cry, slipped from Rachel's saddle, and ran back down the trail. It was what she had feared for the past four miles. She could hear Robert's exclamation but paid no heed as she fell to her knees beside Caird. "No, boy. Not now," she murmured frantically, stroking the stallion's nose. "You can't rest now. Soon, but not now."

Caird neighed and pushed his nose against her hand.

She could feel tears burn her eyes as she wrapped her arms around the horse's neck.

"He can't make it, Kate," Gavin said gently from behind her. She felt his comforting hand settle on her shoulder. "You can see that for yourself."

"I don't see it," she said fiercely, her grip tightening around the horse's neck. "He just needs to rest. He'll be fine once he—"

"We can't rest," Gavin said. "You don't know these mountains. The storm will hit within a few hours, and before dawn the trail could be impassable. We could freeze to death if we're caught here without shelter." She heard a metal hissing. "Stand aside, Kate."

She looked over her shoulder and saw to her horror that he had drawn his sword. He was going to kill Caird. Gavin, who had always been so kind, was going to do this terrible thing. "No! I won't let you."

"Do you think I want to do it? We have no choice," he said unhappily. "Better to kill him now than leave him here to freeze to death."

She glanced beyond him at Robert, but there was no help there. He sat his horse, silent, impassive, closing her away from him.

"He's not going to freeze to death. I'll find shelter where he can rest, and he'll be fine." She jumped to her feet and grabbed the lead rope. "Come on, Caird. Get up. You have to get up."

The horse made a valiant try, then faltered and fell again.

"You see?" Gavin asked. "It's no use."

"I won't give him up." She tugged at the rope. "Both of you go on. I'll take care of him."

"We can't do that. If you stay, you'll die. Isn't that right, Robert?"

He did not answer. He just sat there gazing at her with no expression.

His very impassiveness jabbed thorn sharp at her already lacerated emotions. She whirled to face him and spat, "But then, that would solve all your problems. No wife to endanger your Craighdhu, and it would be no fault of yours. Isn't that true?"

"Quite true," he said quietly.

"Then leave me." She turned back to Caird and again began tugging on the rope.

"Robert?" Gavin asked.

He was asking Robert if he should kill Caird, she realized in panic. All Robert had to do was nod his head and Gavin would—

"Get behind him, Gavin." Robert was suddenly standing beside her, grabbing the lead rope. "Push, while I pull." He snapped at Kate, "Talk to him."

Hope flared within her. He was going to help her. She scrambled out of the way. "Come on, Caird. Come on, boy," she pleaded. "Just try."

It took another ten minutes before Caird got shakily to his feet. Robert tossed her the lead rope and remounted his horse. "Keep him on his feet. We've wasted too much time already."

She quickly mounted Rachel. "I'll keep him going."

Gavin frowned. "Robert, you know—"

"Of course I know," Robert interrupted. "That's why we're going to try to find shelter before the storm hits."

"What if we can't?" Kate asked.

He met her gaze. "Then I'll cut that horse's throat myself."

He meant it. Her teeth sank into her lower lip. "I won't let you."

"You won't be able to stop me." He kicked his horse, and the stallion moved up the winding trail.

Fear rippled through her as she watched the unyielding line of his spine. She felt helpless as she hadn't at the threat Gavin posed. Robert was a much more powerful antagonist, and she knew no plea would move him once he was set on a course. Well, she would face that threat if they failed to find shelter. At least he held out a thread of hope.

They found the cave an hour later. It was hardly more than an indentation in the side of the mountain, perhaps thirty feet deep with a mouth a scant six feet across. To Kate, it looked like paradise.

"Don't just sit there. Get the horses inside," Robert told her as he got down from his horse. The wind whipped the horse's mane back against his face as he grabbed an ax from his saddlebag.

Kate cast an anxious glance at the roiling, stormy sky to the north. It was much colder now, and the wind had a moist, bitter bite. She slipped from the saddle and grabbed Rachel's reins and Caird's lead rope. "What are you going to do?"

"We'll need wood for the fire and brush to form a barrier to cover the mouth of the cave." His gaze scanned the vegetation on the steep slope on the side of the trail. "And there's precious little of either."

Gavin got down from his horse and pointed to a fallen pine in a stand of trees about a hundred yards down the slope. "That should do for firewood, and those scrawny little trees bordering the trail will do for the barricade. If you'll take the slope, I'll cut down those trees along the—"

"No," Robert said curtly. "Take sufficient food from Caird's packs to get you down the mountain and be on your way."

Gavin's eyes widened in shock. "You want me to go?"

"You heard me," Robert said. "Without the piebald to hold you back, you'll be able to move fast enough to reach the foothills before the trail gets impassable."

"Dammit, I can't do that," Gavin said, then tempered his vehemence with a light "You know how I hate to travel alone. And what kind of henchman would I be to leave you in danger and go to safety?"

Robert smiled faintly. "We've already discussed what an abysmal henchman you are."

"But I'm not a coward."

Robert's smile vanished. "I never thought you were."

"So I'll stay."

Robert shook his head. "If we're stranded here for any length of time, our food will run out. You'll be much more useful where you can gather supplies and help to rescue us if it becomes necessary."

Gavin was uncertain. "You think—"

"I don't have time to argue anymore. Move!" He set out, slipping and sliding on the steep slope as he made his way toward the stand of pines.

Gavin watched him. "I can't go. He needs me."

"He's right, there's no sense in all of us being stranded here." She cast a glance at the sky, which seemed to be darkening even more by the second. "It's coming fast.…" She snatched a blanket from Caird's pack and said, "If you want to be helpful, take the horses into the cave and unsaddle them before you leave. I'll help Robert."

She didn't wait for him to answer as she slid down the slope toward Robert.

He barely glanced at her, didn't even stop chopping at the trunk of a fallen tree. "Has he gone?"

"Not yet." She spread the blanket on the ground. "Pile the wood on this, and I'll tie the corners and drag it up to the trail."

He didn't argue, but began rapidly tossing logs and branches on the blanket.

"Is it true we may be stranded here for some time?"

"Aye, it's true."

"Then I want you to go too," she said haltingly. "Caird is my horse and my responsibility. I must stay, but I wish to put no one else in danger. I will be quite safe by myself."

He resumed chopping at the log.

"Did you not hear me?"

"I have no more time to argue with you than I did with Gavin." He swung the ax again, and the blade bit into the wood. "I won't leave you."

"Why?"

He didn't look at her, but his answer echoed her own words about Caird. "Because you're my wife and my responsibility."

A responsibility he had never wished to bear, she thought in an agony of guilt. "It's not the same."

"No, that nag of yours sensibly accepts help and doesn't plague me with conversation."

He would not be persuaded, she realized in despair. She could only try to add her own strength to help keep them both alive.

In an amazingly short time the blanket was overflowing with wood. He tied the corners and said, "Go."

She started up the slope, struggling with the heavy burden she was dragging behind her.

"Kate."

She turned to see Robert looking at her, the hatchet balanced in his hands.

"Make sure Gavin is on his way."

Gavin, too, was his responsibility, and he was not willing to risk Gavin's life as he was his own. She nodded and continued up the slope. She stopped at the top, her breasts rising and falling with the harshness of breathing.

Gavin came out of the cave and reached for the blanket. "I'll take it. The horses are in the cave, and I've unsaddled them and unpacked the—"

"You're not supposed to be here. Leave." Robert had given her a task, and she would see that it was carried out. "Now."

He looked taken aback at the fierce determination in her voice. "I've been thinking about it, and I don't—"

"Now!" She dragged the blanket toward the cave. "Robert said you have to go."

He hesitated and then slowly moved toward his horse. "I'll give you two days. If the two of you aren't down by that time, I'm coming back."

She didn't answer as she dumped the wood on the floor of the cave and set off with the blanket down the slope again. When she glanced back at the trail, it was to see Gavin moving at a fast pace up the trail.

She lost count of the trips she made up and down the slope in the next two hours. Robert was working at a furious pace, the hatchet slicing into the wood, the branches flying onto the blanket.

"Enough!" Robert shouted over the wind as she started up the slope. "I have to start cutting down those trees alongside the trail to use as barriers. Stay in the cave out of this wind this time. The trees will be too heavy for you to move."

She didn't have the breath to answer as she struggled up the slope, fighting the burden from behind and the buffeting wind from the front. Inside the cave she leaned against the rock wall, fighting the exhaustion clawing at her. Sweet Lord, she wanted to rest. But Robert wasn't resting. He was fighting the cold and the wind, exerting his strength and his will to keep them alive. She pushed away from the wall and staggered out on the trail again.

Robert was coming up the slope carrying the last load of wood. "I told you to stay in the cave."

"When you do."

He threw the load into the cave, then strode to the edge of the trail and began cutting down one of the small, scrawny trees.

The snow had started falling, hard ice-filled pellets that stung more than the wind striking her cheeks.

He shouted, "Dammit, you can't help with this! Go inside."

She shook her head as she grabbed the tree he had just chopped down and tugged it toward the cave. Though small, it weighed more than she did, and the branches were sharp and thorny. It took her an excruciatingly long time to drag it the short distance to the mouth of the cave. Then she went back and started on the second tree Robert had thrown up onto the trail. The sharp branches shredded her woolen gloves, and she impatiently took them off and tossed them aside.

By the time she had dragged the fifth tree in front of the cave, it was snowing so hard, she could scarcely see and feel her hands. She was working too slowly, she thought desperately. She couldn't keep up with him. He had already tossed two more trees on the trail. She had to hurry. Just two more trips and she would—

"Inside!" Robert was beside her. He picked her up, deposited her inside the cave, and then turned to leave.

She took an unsteady step toward him.

"Can't you understand? It's almost finished. If you must do something, build a fire. I'm almost frozen."

He grabbed a wooden bucket and disappeared beyond the swirling veil of snow outside the cave.

She hesitated, trying to think through the weariness dragging at her. What had he wanted her to do? A fire. He was cold and would need a fire. Strange, she was not at all cold anymore. Her fingers had been icy, but now they felt as if they didn't belong to her as she knelt and began to lay the wood.

It took a long time, and she was vaguely conscious of the tree barrier building at the mouth of the cave as Robert tossed the trees one on top of each other at the entrance.

The wood finally caught fire, and she fanned it furiously. Mustn't let it go out. Robert was cold and would need—

"Good, you've got it lit." Robert stood just inside the cave, snow glistening on his cloak and dark hair. His arms were filled to overflowing with the ugly brown-black shrub he had called heather. He dumped the load on the floor of the cave and pulled the last barrier in place behind him. "Now, help me fill in the holes between the branches."

"With that?"

"I told you this had a multitude of purposes." He began stuffing the heather into the openings. "The snow should freeze it into place and keep the wind out."

She came forward and tried to help, but she could not seem to make her fingers work.

"No, not up there," he said, as she reached high with a handful of plants. "We need a small opening to release the smoke and let in the fresh air." He picked up the blanket she had used to haul the wood and fastened it to one side of the barrier to form a narrow entrance. He frowned as he stepped back to survey his handiwork. "It will have to do."

"Are we finished?"

"I hope you're speaking of our preparations and not our extremely mortal selves," he said. He turned away and moved toward the fire. "It's a hearty blaze. You did well." He glanced over his shoulder and said soberly, "And not only in the building of fires. I could not have asked for a better helpmate."

Through the haze of cold and weariness enfolding her, she felt a tiny flicker of pride. "Neither could I."

"But I'm not a woman."

"I believe that to be an unfair remark. I will have to think on it." She could not seem to think at all at the moment. She moved toward the fire and held out her hands. "This must not be good wood. There's hardly any heat."

"There's plenty of heat." He glanced down at her hands and went still. "They're bloody. Where the devil are your gloves?"

"They were woolen, and the branches tore them to pieces, so I threw them away." She shrugged. "It doesn't matter."

"The hell it doesn't matter." He touched a deep scratch on her palm. "Do you feel this?"

She shook her head.

"God's blood!" He pushed her down on the ground before the fire and dropped to his knees beside her. He jerked off his heavy leather gloves, took her left hand between both of his, and began to chafe it.

"What are you doing?" She tried to draw away.

"Stay still," he said between his teeth. "You have frostbite. You'll be lucky if your hands aren't frozen. I can't believe you—why didn't you go back to the cave when I told you to?"

"You needed me. How was I to know this could happen so quickly? We do not have such weather in the Midlands. Do you have to be so rough? It's beginning to hurt."

"Good," he said, continuing the chafing.

Her skin was tingling, the scratches stinging so painfully it brought tears to her eyes. "Is it not enough?"

He dropped her hand, ordered her to hold it out to the fire, and reached for the other one. "Can you feel the heat?"

"Yes."

"When you start feeling pain in this hand, tell me."

She was already beginning to feel the first tingling sensation, but it was another few minutes before the pain began in earnest. "Now."

"In all the fingers?"

Tears began to run down her cheeks. "The thumb is still a little numb."

He shifted his hold and began to concentrate on her thumb and index finger, bringing them to life.

He dropped her hand and lifted his gaze to her tear-streaked face. "I realize it hurts," he said hoarsely. "But I couldn't leave them like that."

"I know." She wiped her eyes on the back of her hands. "I don't know what's wrong with me. I'm not usually so stupid as to weep due to a little discomfort."

"More than a little. I've had frostbite." He grabbed a clean blanket from the supplies Gavin had piled against the wall and spread it before the fire. "Lie down and rest."

"I have to see to Caird and Rachel."

"I'll do it."

"You're as tired as I am."

He ignored the protest and walked toward the horses tethered in the back of the cave.

Perhaps he wasn't as tired, she thought hazily. He moved with the same indomitable strength and power he had exhibited when he had first gone down the slope more than two hours ago.

Well, she was not so impervious to weariness. She sat down on the blanket and watched as he probed gently at Caird's ankles.

I'll cut his throat myself .

But he hadn't killed Caird. He had struggled and fought to save both the horse and herself at the risk of his own life. Her gaze shifted to the hole at the top of the barrier and she saw the snow falling faster, denser, turning late afternoon into night. They were safe for the time being, but Gavin's anxiety had made abundantly clear that the danger was not over. Her gaze went back to Robert. It would have been terrible to be alone here in this isolated place, but it was even more terrible to be responsible for danger to another human being.

"No swelling. You'll be glad to know the cause of all this trouble is fine," Robert said as he stood up and patted Caird's neck. "I mean, as fine as this bag of bones ever is," he added wryly.

She was too weary to defend the insult to Caird. She curled up on the blanket watching Robert as he took a cloth and began to wipe down the piebald.

Soon she would get up and help, but it would do no harm to rest for a moment.…

···

Robert sat across the fire, staring into the flames when she opened her eyes.

He looked as he always did: powerful, remote, controlled. Even when he thought himself unobserved, there was no lowering of that wariness that was always with him.

He glanced up as he felt her gaze on him. "I was hoping you'd sleep through the night."

The sky beyond the opening appeared darker, the shadows on the wall of the cave more pronounced. "How long did I sleep?"

"Not long. A few hours."

She sat up and brushed her hair back from her face. "I didn't mean to sleep at all."

"Why not? There's nothing else to do." He poured liquid from the pot hanging over the flames into a cup. "But since you're awake, drink this."

She looked at the milky-looking liquid in the cup he handed her. "What is it?"

"Hot water brewed with the bones of the hare we killed yesterday."

She made a face. "I don't think I—"

"Drink it. It's not much, but it may have some strengthening power. We ate a meal this morning before we set out, so we'll wait until tomorrow to roast the hare. From now on we'll eat only once a day…and lightly."

"You believe that the storm may last for days as Gavin said?"

He shrugged. "I have no idea. You can never tell this time of year. It could last a day or a week. If it only lasts a day or two, once it stops, we should be able to make it down to the foothills."

"And if it lasts longer?"

"The trail will be impassable, and it may take a month before the drifts melt enough for us to get down."

"A month!"

"If fortune is with us." He met her gaze. "Two years ago one of my clan was stranded in a cave like this for two months."

"What happened to him?"

"He froze to death."

She inhaled sharply. "How terrible."

"Aye, he was on his way from Edinburgh. He told no one he was coming home, or we would have searched for him. By the time we received word, it was too late." He glanced at the cup in her hand. "Drink."

She took a sip and found it as unpleasant as it looked. "Are you sure Gavin will be safe?"

"I can't be sure of anything, but he has a better chance than we do."

"I did not realize that—"

"I know you didn't realize the hazards." He smiled crookedly. "But even if you had, would you have acted differently?"

Her gaze went to Caird. How could she have acted differently toward her old friend and companion? She glanced at Robert. "I couldn't have deserted Caird, but, yes, I would have acted differently. If I'd known the danger was this great, I wouldn't have listened to you. I would have made you go with Gavin. It was not right for me to let you risk your life."

His brows lifted. "And how would you have done that? Hit me on the head as you did in the forest?"

"If necessary."

He chuckled. "I believe you would. What touching gratitude after all my efforts on your behalf."

"I am grateful," she said haltingly. "You have no idea how grateful I am—no one has ever risked their life for me before—but there is guilt also. I should not have let you do it."

"As I remember, I gave you no choice." He made an impatient gesture. "There's no use discussing it now. It's done."

"Yes, it's done." She looked at the pile of wood, which appeared pitifully small after Robert's chilling story. It was warm here now, even cozy, but if the trail became impassable, so would the slope that led to their only source of fuel. "Should we put out the fire to save wood?"

"We'll burn it only at night when it's coldest. The barriers should be tight enough to keep us from freezing during the day."

She involuntarily shuddered at his words.

"I'm not trying to frighten you. I'm trying to be honest. You deserve better than lies." He met her gaze. "Believe me, I have no intention of dying."

"Perhaps your clansman didn't either."

"He stayed and waited for the thaw that didn't come. I'll not make that mistake."

"What will you do?"

"Find a way. There's always a way to be found, if you search hard enough."

For the first time since she had opened her eyes, she felt a surge of hope. Robert would never give up. She should not either. "So what should we do now?"

"Sleep. We'll need it. After we put out the fire tomorrow morning, we'll have to keep moving to keep warm." He finished his drink and put his cup aside. "By sunset tomorrow I guarantee you'll be wearier than if you'd ridden through these mountains all day." He stretched out and closed his lids.

He suddenly looked younger, more vulnerable, now that she could no longer see those dark, glittering eyes. Why, he was young, she thought. He seemed much older and more seasoned than Gavin, but in years he and his henchman were a scant five apart. He had a full life yet to live.

And that life could be quenched like the flame of a candle.

And the blame would be hers.

He had known her only chance to live was for him to stay and make preparations that would mean survival, and he had done it. She had made him promise to treat her as he did Gavin, and he had done that also. He had extended his protection as if she belonged to Craighdhu as Gavin did. But Gavin had known the danger and would never have endangered Robert as she had done.

If Robert died, she didn't know how she could live with the burden of guilt. He had saved her life, and she owed him a great debt, a debt that seemed more smothering and intolerable with each passing moment.

Dear God, she did not wish to owe Robert MacDarren anything. Debt was a bond, and she could not bear to be bound to him any longer. She had discovered in these past weeks how hurtful it was to live only on the fringes of his life, and she would do it no longer. She had thought when they reached Craighdhu she would find a way to cut their ties, but she could not do it if she was laden with this overwhelming obligation.

She lay down, cradling her head on her arm, staring at him as he slept.

Now that she was closer to him, he no longer appeared either young or vulnerable. His lips had a wicked sensual curve, and the hollowed plane of his cheeks gave him a look of exotic hunger.

Her heart was beating so hard, it was almost painful, as she sank to her knees beside him. She desperately wanted to scurry around to her former place by the fire. She must not be so cowardly. She had made up her mind, and now she must just do it.

She drew a deep breath, then reached out and touched his cheek.

She flinched back as his lids immediately flicked open. "What is it?"

She drew her blanket closer around her. "I must talk to you."

"I thought it had all been said."

She glanced away from him. "Not everything. I've thought about it and…It is hard to put it into words. But if you wish it…"

He stiffened. "Are you saying what I think you're saying?"

"How should I know what you think I'm saying? My tongue is so clumsy, I wonder you can understand me at all." She drew a shaky breath and started again. "You appear to set store by this carnal coupling. After all, we are wed. I suppose I would not mind if you…" She stopped again and then said in a rush, "Why don't you say something? I told you this was difficult for me."

His gaze narrowed on her face. "I'm trying to decide why you've suddenly chosen to gift me in this fashion. Guilt?"

"Yes," she said bluntly. "And I owe a great debt. In spite of what you say, I believe there's a possibility I may never be able to repay you as I would like." Her hands clenched nervously. "And if I don't repay you, I would feel…I would never be free of you. This seems the only…I don't see why you think this act is important, but I would not deny you." She had gotten it all out, she thought with relief. "If you still want it, I believe I can bear it."

"Want it?"

She inhaled sharply as she saw his expression change from wariness to sensuality.

"Oh, yes, I still want it," he said in a thick voice. "I've wanted nothing else since that night at the inn. At times I thought I'd go mad with wanting it." He smiled recklessly. "And I don't give a whit how I get it. I'll accept gratitude as long as I get the rest."

It was going to happen. She had thought her heart was pounding hard before, but now it was trying to leap from her breast. "You'll have to tell me how to do this. Sebastian told me I had the instincts of Lilith, but he must be wrong or I would never be this uncertain." She let the blanket fall to the ground, and the heat of the fire touched her body. "However, I'm not so ignorant I don't know it starts like this. Isn't that so?"

His muscles locked, became rigid, as his gaze fastened on the pink tips of her breasts. "Nakedness is usually not required in the middle of a snowstorm."

"I thought it would be over quicker if I got the disrobing out of the way. I'm not cold." An understatement, she thought. A trail of scorching heat followed his gaze as it moved from her nipples down her body to the soft hair that encircled her womanhood.

"Neither am I," he said hoarsely.

"Should I lie down and close my eyes?"

"So that you won't see the horrible fate that's about to overtake you? Not yet." He reached out and touched her belly. "I want to test your tolerance." His fingers trailed down to the curls that had so absorbed his attention. "I want to see just how much you can bear."

A shock went through her, and her muscles clenched beneath his touch.

"What a violent response," he murmured as he began to stroke and pet her. "And I'm sure I'm not hurting you."

No, not pain, something else. "I feel as I did when I fell out of an oak tree when I was a little girl of six. It was—" She closed her eyes as his hand reached down to cup her. "Why…are you doing that?"

His fingers were patting, probing, delicately exploring. "Don't you like it?"

A hot shiver went through her. "All this fondling seems a great waste of time."

"Oh, I forgot, you wished it quickly over. You even undressed for greater efficiency. But I'm afraid you'll have to be patient. There's something I want to do here." His fingers were searching. "I'll try to hurry."

She arched back with a low cry as he found the nub that had been his quest. Shock. Heat. Hunger.

"You like that?" She was in such a haze of pleasure, she was only barely aware of his gaze narrowed on her face as his thumb pressed and then began moving in a slow, erotic circle. "Ah, I see that you do. How much?"

Too much. She bit her lower lip to keep from moaning as sensation after sensation tore through her, spreading through her body. Her flesh was hot, flushed, her breasts ripening more with every passing moment.

"But I interrupted you." He began plucking at the nub, every pull sending a jolting bolt of need throughout her womanhood. "You were telling me how you fell out of a tree when you were six."

Was she? She couldn't remember anything before the moment when his fingers had started that rhythmic motion.

"You fell out of a tree," he prompted.

"I…knocked the breath out of myself."

"And that's how you feel now?"

"I believe…so."

"Don't you know?"

"I cannot think.…"

"Good." He removed his fingers. "An excellent sign. Now you can lie down and catch your breath." He distanced himself a few feet and began to pull off his left boot.

She collapsed on the blanket. It was just as well he had told her to lie down, for she was trembling so much, she was not sure she could have remained upright. "You're undressing?"

"It seems appropriate for your first time." He took off the other boot. "I cannot provide you with clean sheets, but I'll not mark you with all this leather." He tossed his leather jerkin aside. "Open your legs for me, Kate. I want to look at you."

"Is that necessary?"

"No, but it will give me pleasure. Isn't that the purpose of all this?"

She felt a flush envelop her entire body as she obeyed him. She could feel his gaze on that juncture where they would join as if it were stroking her as his fingers had done before. She felt totally helpless, totally submissive.

"Beautiful…Just a little wider. That's right." He undid his points. "Do you know how many times I've thought about you lying like this, waiting for me to come into you?"

His dark eyes were intent, almost glazed with need. The need was for her, and the knowledge caused that strange melting heat to increase. She was acutely conscious of the womanliness of her body, the swelling of her breasts, the softness of her skin, the vulnerability of her position.

He was completely nude now, as sinewy and beautiful as he had been in the chamber at the inn and even more aroused. She moved her gaze quickly from his lower body to his face, but that was somehow worse. She closed her eyes so that she would no longer see his expression of naked hunger.

"Open your eyes. I want you to look at me. I want you to watch me." His voice was guttural. "I want you to know every minute who is doing this to you. Who is going to be inside you." She opened her eyes to see him kneeling between her outspread legs, unclothed.

"Is it going to happen now?" she whispered.

"Aye." He moved closer. "But not quite yet." Two fingers slid slowly into her.

She arched upward at the incredible invasion of body and senses. His fingers moved in and out slowly, then more rapidly, and then with a jerky, primitive rhythm that drove her to bite her lips to keep from screaming with the erotic sensations that were cascading through her with his every motion.

"Tight…God, you're tight," he muttered. "I can't—wait any longer. I have to get in. "

He entered carefully, fighting the tightness. When he reached the barrier, he stopped, his chest lifting and falling with each labored breath. "Brace yourself, lass."

He plunged to the hilt.

She gasped as pain shot through her. He became still, buried deep, joined, pulsing within her.

She still felt a dull ache, but another sensation was beginning to submerge the discomfort. Fullness…but still hunger, a hunger she suddenly knew she could not bear not to assuage.

She instinctively clenched around him.

He gasped, and a shudder went through him. He lifted his head to look down at her. "Are you trying to kill me?"

But he had liked it. She had caught that expression of unutterable pleasure on his face. "It felt…right. It was right, wasn't it?"

He nodded. "You just surprised me."

It had been no surprise to her. Now that he was within her, everything seemed to have its own rhythm, its own primitive inevitability. "But there's more." Her hands reached out blindly to clutch at his shoulders. "There has to be more."

"Aye, there's more." He began to move in and out, with short and long thrusts that came like fiery blows, striking at the heart of her.

Bonding, wild pleasure, hunger, all growing more intense with each driving thrust.

He was not giving her enough, she thought feverishly. She had to take more of him. She began to thrust upward, meeting him with a need so fierce, it made her nearly mindless as she tried to clench around him to keep him within her.

"Easy," he muttered. "It's too good. I can't hold on."

He was speaking foolishly. There could be no ease in this act. It was madness, fire and pleasure, and she could not bear it to either slow or stop.

She thrust upward, her nails digging into his shoulders. " Help me."

He froze. "God." He began to move with animal ferocity, his hands cupping her buttocks in his palms as he drove to the quick. "This?" His voice hoarsened. "Is this what you want? Take it!"

This must be like birth or death, she thought hazily. Whatever it was, it had to go on forever. No, it had to be done . She couldn't go on like this with the pleasure building, satisfaction beckoning, climbing, yet just out of reach.

Robert's face above her was flushed, his lips heavy with sensuality, his cheeks hollowed and drawn with a terrible strain. "Now," he said, through clenched teeth. He lifted her higher, closer. "Give it to me. Now!"

Her body convulsed, splintering into hot arcs of pleasure.

He groaned, his spine arching, the tendons of his throat distending as he threw back his head.

He collapsed on top of her, his entire body shuddering, shaking as if with a fever.

She was shaking, too, she realized dimly, as her fingers ran down his back. Roughness against the smoothness of his skin. Scars, she remembered, he had scars on his back. They had hurt him. She felt a wild burst of possessive anger, and her arms tightened around him. Never again. He must never be hurt again.

"Kate."

His voice was deep and caressing as he said her name. How beautiful…her name had never sounded so beautiful.

"I'm too heavy on you. Let me go, lass."

He wasn't too heavy, and she didn't want to let him go. She never wanted to let him go again.

Robert lifted his head and brushed her forehead with his lips. "I'd gladly stay here, but I'm already stirring, and I think you've have had enough for the first time." He made a face. "Probably too much. I wasn't as gentle with you as I would have liked."

He was stirring, she realized incredulously. He wanted her again. It could go on, the pleasure could go on.…

"No!" he said as he felt her tighten around him. He quickly drew out and moved to one side. "Not now, Kate. Rest now. I can't believe I'm saying that." He chuckled as he kissed her nose. "But you must admit you bore this hideous trial quite well."

Her breath was coming in gasps, and it was as if she were seeing everything through a haze. Only what had gone before was real. "Is it…always like this?"

"More or less." His tongue delicately licked her shoulder, and a hot shiver ran through her. "But this is definitely more. You appear to have been created for this kind of sport. I admit I didn't expect such an enthusiastic response from a virgin."

"I did not expect to give it." Panic jarred her into full awareness as she realized what had just happened to her. She had been shameless, uncontrolled, the slut Sebastian had always claimed her to be. With a jerky motion she sat up and wrapped the blanket around her. "It was a…surprise. I'm sure I wouldn't have responded with such abandonment if I'd known—"

"Known what?" He smiled teasingly. "That you were born with the kind of passion Aphrodite was said to have?"

Heat flew to her cheeks. "You are making jest of me."

"Am I?"

She nodded. "I'm not the stuff of legends, and you know it. Besides, I would not conduct myself in that foolish fashion. All those goddesses seemed to think only of lust and vanity and deserved all their tribulations."

He chuckled. "Very well, you're no goddess." His hand reached up to cup her breast. "But I believe I'll have to try you again to determine the extent of your earthiness."

Sweet Jesus, it was happening again, she realized in despair. Her nipple was peaking, readying beneath his touch. "No!" She scooted backward, out of reach. "It was a mistake."

He lifted a brow. "How fleeting is gratitude.…"

"I will find another way."

"I like this one."

"And I don't." He was still too close. She stood up and moved around the fire and sat down.

"You like it very much." His gaze narrowed on her face. "And will like it even more once you've learned the way of it."

"I will not," she said fiercely. "I will not be the whore Sebastian called me."

"Ah, there's the problem." His lips tightened. "By Judas, that bastard manages to spit his poison even when he's not in the same country. You're no whore, Kate."

"Pure woman do not enjoy—"

"What of your friend Carolyn? Did you not tell me she was eagerly looking forward to marrying?"

She frowned in confusion. He was right. Carolyn had always had a lustful turn. "It's different for me."

"Because Sebastian told you it was wicked so many times that the truth became blurred. You told me that yourself."

She shook her head helplessly. "You don't understand. If he is right about this, he may be right about other things. I cannot let it happen again."

"But you will." His expression hardened. "You didn't have to give yourself. I would have kept my promise. It was your choice."

"And I've changed my mind."

"It's too late." His eyes glittered in the firelight. "If you think I'll stay in this cave with you, knowing what we could have and letting Sebastian take it from—" He broke off and repeated, "It's too late."

"You would take me against my will?" she asked shakily.

He shook his head. "But we've already discussed how delightfully weak your will is in this particular matter. I'll simply lay assault until it crumbles."

Fear surged through her, and with it a dark, forbidden heat. She knew how determined he could be, and now she also knew the pleasure he could give her. Her lustful body would not wish to fight him, would instead battle to surrender. She searched wildly for an argument that would get through to him. "You said once a child would be a danger to Craighdhu, and that you could prevent—But I don't think you protected that from happening, did you?"

An indecipherable expression flickered across his face. "No."

She did not think he had. She was not sure what action would have been necessary to prevent a child, but their coming together had been so savage, calculating behavior of any sort had seemed impossible. "Then you clearly should not let it happen again."

"You're wrong, I've already made the mistake. You may even now be with child. There's no reason I shouldn't enjoy your body until I find out if it's true."

"There is a reason," she said in exasperation. "I say no."

He suddenly smiled. "And that's reason enough for now. There is probably soreness from your first joust, and I'll not trouble you again tonight." He lay down and pulled the blanket over him. "Tomorrow night will do as well. When darkness falls, and we light the fire, I'll show you how a man can be mounted. You'll find it much more pleasurable than any ride Caird has given you." He met her gaze across the fire. "In the meantime think of how you felt when I came into you. Do you not want that pleasure again?"

She did want it, she realized in despair. Just the memory of that joining was starting an aching heat between her thighs.

His gaze moved down to the fullness of her breasts outlined beneath the blanket. "I have few fond memories of my time in Spain, but I learned many things there that will bring you pleasure. I'll show you a few tomorrow evening."

"No," she whispered.

"Aye, pleasure is no sin between man and wife. Personally, I'm delighted Mary has gifted you with such a lustful nature. It will be my joy to develop it to our mutual advantage during our stay here."

"I'm not lustful."

"But you are, with a clean, beautiful lust such as I've never known before. If you will be honest with yourself, you'll admit that you came to me as much from lust as from gratitude."

Her eyes widened in shock. "It's not true. I knew nothing about this. How could I know I would find this—" She stopped in dismay.

He smiled knowingly, and she realized he had guessed what she had almost blurted out. "You couldn't know, but you were curious, weren't you? You're always curious. You want to know how everything smells and tastes and feels. Curiosity, too, is a form of lust, Kate." He closed his eyes. "Now go to sleep. You'll need your rest tomorrow."

Could he be right? Had she lied to herself about her motives tonight? she wondered, stricken. It was true at one time she had passionately wanted to pierce that wall surrounding Robert and learn everything about him. The desire had been like a terrible thirst, and when she'd been denied the means to soothe that thirst in the way of her choice, it was possible she had tried to quench it in the only way left open to her.

She settled down, her gaze on his face. He was so sure, so confident of victory, the falcon swooping down on its prey. But she was no helpless victim. She could fight him, best him. She had only to ignore what had happened tonight and—

But she could neither ignore nor forget what had happened. Because, God help her, it was still happening. He had only had to look at her and her body had changed, ripened. Even now, her breasts were still aching and swollen beneath the blanket. She did not know that woman who had moaned and moved and arched at his command. What would be her response if he touched her again? Would she change into the panting, lustful animal she had been only a few moments before? The thought filled her with sickening fear, and another emotion even more terrifying.

A dark, dangerous anticipation.

"Wake up, Kate."

She opened her eyes to see Robert already dressed and pulling on his boots. He smiled. "Get dressed. It's time to put out the fire."

The fire was already burning low, and even beneath the blankets she could feel the chill. When it went out entirely, it would be frigid in the cave. Memories of last night abruptly flooded back to her, and she became acutely conscious of her own nakedness and Robert watching her across the fire. She hurriedly reached for her clothing, dragged it to her, and started to struggle into the garments beneath the blanket.

"For God's sake, what are you doing?" Robert asked impatiently. "You look like a pig rolling in the mud."

"I'm getting dressed."

"Modesty? Did it not occur to you I've already seen what you're trying to conceal?" He smiled sardonically. "Or are you just obeying Sebastian's commands and trying not to arouse my wicked carnal lusts?"

"Modesty is not unknown to me," she said, stung. "And I do not need either Sebastian or you to lesson me in it."

"I have no desire to teach you any such foolishness. I infinitely prefer you as you were last night."

"I do not," she said crisply. "And I wish you would not speak of it. It makes me uncomfortable."

"I passed a few uncomfortable hours myself last night," he murmured. "Would you like for me to tell you in what fashion?"

"No," she said in exasperation. She was sure she had her blasted gown on backward, and how was she to put on her stockings without disarranging the blanket? "I want you to be silent and let me get on with this."

His lips were suddenly twitching. "At the speed you're going, we'll use our entire supply of wood before you manage to clothe yourself."

He was right, she thought crossly. Why should she be forced to this foolishness when it only amused him and discomforted herself? She sat up and tossed aside the blanket. She did not have the gown on backward, but the bodice was buttoned wrong. She quickly corrected the matter. "I meant what I said last night, you know."

"I'm sure you did." He paused. "So did I."

"Then you must change your mind." She started to tug on her woolen stockings. "For I shall not change mine."

"You seem to be having a great deal of difficulty with those stockings. May I help?"

"No! I have no need—" He was already kneeling in front of her, his hands brushing aside her hands. A jolt of heat went through her when his fingers touched her bare calf as he slowly drew the gray wool up her leg.

"You have fine limbs," he said softly. "You gave me no opportunity to study you last night."

She had a sudden memory of herself lying open and defenseless before him. "That's not true." The words sounded breathless, and she deliberately steadied her voice. "You must know every inch by now."

"Not every inch." He pulled her stocking past her knee. "I was preoccupied with only one portion of your enchanting person. Lust has a habit of making one single-minded." He reached for the leather garter on the blanket beside her. "I'm sure you understand that now." He tied the leather garter, and then his hand moved up to caress her inner thigh. "There's nothing more sensual or pleasing than the sight of a woman's limbs bound by stockings and garters and then to find this lovely surprise of soft flesh."

She stared helplessly at his tan hand against her pale limb. His touch was caressing, its very lightness beguiling, chaining her. She must move away from him.

He touched the leather garter. "This is good leather, butter soft. I enjoy the feel of leather." His cheeks were flushed, and the mocking note had vanished from his hoarse voice. "I'll show you later what a pleasure leather can be." He tore his hand away and reached for the other stocking. "I have a great fondness for most textures, but I have no liking for this rough wool. I'll find you silk stockings when we get to Craighdhu." He pulled the stocking up past her knee and tied the garter. "Silk has a pleasing texture too." His fingers trailed up, and then still farther. "But there are a few textures even more pleasing."

The muscles of her thigh clenched beneath his touch, sending a chain reaction upward to the place he had stroked last night. Why could she not move? It was as if she were frozen in place by his touch.

"I'll try to take more time tonight," he said thickly. "I know I was too quick with you. There are many ways of pleasure, and not all of them so rough."

He had not been rough. There had been wildness but not brutality. If anything, she had been the one who was brutal. She remembered how her nails had dug deep into his shoulders as she lunged upward. She had been an animal, no better than a whore. The thought broke the spell he was weaving about her, and she drew away from him. "I will not learn these ways."

He sat back on his heels and pulled down her skirt. "You'll have no choice."

"I've learned enough about you to know you won't force me."

"I won't have to. You don't have a temperate nature." He met her gaze. "We both know I could have taken you just now, if I'd wished."

She started to deny it and then remembered that moment of mindless fascination when he had held her in thrall. She would do better to search out his weaknesses than deny her own. "Then why didn't you?"

"I can wait." He stood up and drew on his cloak. "You're a little confused, but you're generally a sensible woman. You'll come to see the truth."

"That it's right to be a whore?" she asked scornfully.

"No, that it's right to be a woman," he said. "Entirely a woman, with a woman's right to give and take pleasure. You could never be a whore, no matter what Sebastian told you. You're too strong. A whore is used, and you would not let yourself be used. You're far more likely to use me than I you." He added as he reached out and pulled her to her feet, "And it will be my pleasure to let you use me in any manner you find agreeable."

She stared at him, startled. He was presenting an entirely different picture of her role in the passionate play of last night.

"Power," he said softly. "Is it not a seductive thought? All your life you've had no power, you've been crushed by circumstances and your kind Sebastian into submission. I'm offering you a battleground where you have greater power than any man alive."

It was seductive, she thought, and he was diabolically clever to have presented her with the one argument that would appeal to her mind and emotions as well as her body. "I have no desire to be the Lilith Sebastian called me. I will not walk that path."

"I'm saying you have the strength to be anything you wish, but do you really think I'd let you lure and use me against my will? Your soul is safe with me." He smiled. "I only want your body."

She stared at him incredulously and then found herself laughing. "What a great comfort."

"It would not prove so to most women, but I knew the thought would appeal to you." He took a step forward, draped her cloak about her, and buttoned it at the throat. "You have all day to think about it." He suddenly frowned as he glanced at her hands. "I forgot about your gloves." He took off his own leather gauntlets. "Take these. As soon as I put out the fire, it's going to be icy in here."

She shook her head. "You're no more impervious to cold than I am. You told me you had frostbite once."

He frowned. "Do as I—" He stopped as he saw her expression. "We'll share them. You wear them for the first hour." He met her gaze. "You see how you can impose your will on me? Enough but not too much. It's all in striking a balance. Give me your hand."

She held it out, and he slipped the big glove on her hand. The outside of the glove was hard, rough, but the interior hugged her palms in a soft, pliable caress. She could feel the warmth from his body, and the leather's embrace felt as intimate as his hand on her thigh. He put the other glove on her. "There. It's not too bad sharing with me, is it?" He smiled down at her. "I promise I'll make it very easy for you."

He was not talking about the gloves. She couldn't seem to tear her gaze from his face. She whispered, "You have not…convinced me."

"I had no intention of doing so. You're too intelligent a woman to let Sebastian rob you again. I intend to let you convince yourself." He turned and put out the fire. "While we try to keep from freezing to death until it's time to light another fire."