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you know what you are asking for? Do you know where you are leading me?”
    She nodded, licked at dry lips, shivered with emotions too powerful to check.
    “I’ll not take advantage.” He eased away, rubbed his hand down his face.
    Incensed, she rose on her knees. “Do you know what you’re denying me?” Harsh, yet quiet, she demanded.
    He’d turned his back on her, but she’d not have that. He chose to be here, let him face what it did to her. She pulled at his shoulder, urged him to look at her. If she were to confess, she’d not do it to a man’s back.
    “Do you know you’re the only man I’ve ever kissed?” Ah, yes, she’d stunned him with that . “Oh, aye, Lochlan taught violation, the cruel, crude invasion of a woman.”
    “Did you think he wanted kisses? After bloodying my lips with his fist?” Ah, it was too hard to speak to his face, to admit to the shame. More than expected.
    She shifted away, spoke in a whisper as though to herself. “Do you think he could ever provoke want?” She shook her head. The pure, clean moment of desire now tainted. “Never mind.” She shrugged his hand from her shoulder.
    Too late, too, too late.
    “Come here.” He lifted her clear off the ground, taking them both around a boulder, out of sight of the fire, of Deian. She fought against the pain of rejection. He’d not wanted her before, he couldn’t have her now.
    “Stop,” he ordered, sitting down, his back to the rock, her in his lap.
    “Stop.” He took both of her hands in one of his. “Just let me hold you.”
    Startled, she looked up, shadow hiding his thoughts from her.
    “Just let me hold you.” It sounded like a plea, but why would he beg? She was the one who needed the comfort, needed his touch. “Please.”
    Stiffly, she curled into him, no longer deep enough into her sorrow for her mind to release its hold. Only moments ago, her body led. Now thoughts reprimanded. He pitied her. Benevolent kindliness for a poor, weak soul.
    She was a fool. Pulled away. He caught her close, adjusted her in his lap and she felt it, through his trews, her trews.
    He desired her.
    Again, from nowhere, heat scorched a path through her.
    It didn’t mean he cared. Men desired anything that stood still long enough. Her brother told her that. Didn’t matter if it was a woman, a child, a sister, or even an animal, desire raged in the other sex.
    Arms held her tight, his cheek rested on her head. “I’ve wanted you the whole of my life.” She couldn’t move, couldn’t speak. Words fought within her. Sharp, bitter words. Sighs of longing. Equally matched. “I want to woo you, not slide in on your sorrow.”
    Woo her? Win her? She was headed for England. He would go back to Glen Toric. No future to entice her to.
    Men could lie.
    She’d never heard him lie.
    He kissed her temple.
    Simple brush of lips spurring heat, fire. Passion.
    “I’ve never wanted before.” In that, she was pure, untouched. She could give him that.
    He groaned. “I’m a fool,” he muttered, and she realized she’d won, if she wanted to.
    And she did.
    Turning in his arms, once again she framed his face in her hands. “I’ve never felt like this before. May never again in my life. Don’t make me beg.”
    She had never begged for anything in her life. She did not change her ways to beg for friendship when others thought her odd. When others whispered about her, suspected she loved Talorc the Bold, she did not demand to be listened to. She allowed false judgment rather than beg.
    So, as Padraig looked to the sky, the cords in his neck knotted tight, when he turned to the side rather than to her, she crumpled inside. Unable to gather her bravado in anger, too tired anymore for false facades, her hands slipped from his face and she bowed her head.
    Shame, she was shame and filth and unworthy and…
    “No,” he grated. “Don’t think that, don’t be thinkin’ I don’t want you.” He grabbed her hands, put them back, her palms to his