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a gleam of red hair and delicate features before his body eclipsed the firelight.
    “I didn’t mean to frighten you,” the princess murmured, a dark form with strong arms about him. “My sister claimed a beautiful man carried her up from the stream, but I thought she imagined it. Who would let a man risk his reputation so?”
    “A sister who will soon be in deep trouble with her mothers and older sisters.”
    “Sister?” One arm lifted from his hip to run fingers through his waist-long hair. “You’re not a husband?”
    He bit his lip. Husbands were more dearly protected by the law than brothers. He shouldn’t have spoken— each word he said was a danger to him.
    ‘’Come, come,“ Princess Rennsellaer coaxed gently, ”I’m not going to carry you off like some husband raider.“
    “I’m a brother. I’ll be of age in two months.”
    The princess turned him slightly so the fire was to her back, the light a gleaming halo about the nimbus of her shadowed hair. Her fingers touched his cheek, trailed down to cup his chin. “Your family runs to good looks.”
    “Our grandfather was an exceedingly handsome man,” Jerin admitted, aware suddenly that he wore only one sheer layer of cotton, that she wore nearly the same, and then her left hand cupped his buttocks, pressing his body to hers. “I came down for a bite of something.”
    “I have something here you can nibble on,” she murmured, catching his hand, guiding it under her sleeping shirt. Her skin was soft, warm, and firm. His body reacted to the touch while his mind floundered in panic. How much force could you use denying the crown princess without bringing trouble down on your head?
    “Your Highness, please.” He tried to sidestep, but she moved with him.
    “You desire me,” she noted, running her hand over his body.
    “I desire to marry well,” he murmured hoarsely. “For fifteen years I have stayed chaste and pure. I would not like to fail two months shy of the goal.”
    She chuckled. “I’m amazed that you’ve seen any women besides your sisters.”
    “They take me to social events.” He was babbling now, unable to stop. “How else would families know we seek a marriage alliance? We go to fairs, festivals, and such. The girls compete in races and wrestling, and the boys talk about how their sisters make them crazy and how lonely it is, being the only man among so many women.” He moaned softly now, as her hand had not stayed idle. “That is nice,” he admitted, “but I wish—” Truthfully he didn’t really want it to stop. “I wish—”
    She stepped him back, pressing him against the stones of the hearth, and kissed him tenderly. Her mouth was sweet, and warm, and electric on his. He couldn’t find anyplace safe to put his hands; they tended to flutter like birds looking for a roosting place. He whimpered partially in delight of the many sensations bombarding him, partially in the helplessness of his situation.
    “Highness—um—I don’t think—we shouldn’t be—oh, gods—I—” While his mind raced to form some sentence, any sentence, he stumbled on an awful thought. If not for this once, the only intimacy in my life will be with the horsey-faced, heavy-handed Brindle women. Who would know what we’ve done? Who would guess? Who would tell? Certainly not my sisters . With those thoughts, he allowed his hands to alight on her hips, then explore upward, under her nightshirt.
     
    In the last year of his life, Jerin’s father had told him how one man could keep ten women happy. It had been a frank, embarrassing, sometimes mystifying set of discussions. There hadn’t been an opportunity for Jerin to try any of the techniques outside of his increasingly erotic dreams. It was somewhat satisfying, judging by the princess’s reaction, to discover he remembered a goodly portion of his father’s lessons.
    They could have taken the last step. They lay on the warm flagstones before the cooking fire, glistening with sweat. She