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had her pants.
    Maxum had meant for her to go to her own bedroll, but she had misunderstood. True, he’d made no effort to explain, but he had thought it would be obvious he wasn’t interested in her. Not anymore. His tongue and balls still hurt from her last attack on him.
    “I lost my dagger,” she said softly.
    He opened his eyes and looked at her. “We’ll get it in the morning.”
    “I only have the two.”
    “Go to sleep,” he commanded.
    Recognizing that it was too cold for him to lie outside of the blanket, he lifted it up and joined her beneath it. Her warmth immediately seeped into him from head to toe even though she went rigid and held herself as far away from him as she could and yet still remain under the blanket. Growling with frustration and annoyance he ringed an arm around her waist and jerked her back into the bend of his body, seating her bottom into the lee of his hips and her back to his chest. They would keep each other warm at least.
    She lay there stiffly for a good ten minutes, until she was sure he wasn’t going to do anything else. Puzzled and exhausted, she finally drifted off to sleep.

T he next morning she awoke to the feel of an erection prodding against her bottom. With a squeak she went to pull away, but there was a powerful arm banded around her waist keeping her right where she was. She slowly inched around until she could see his face.
    He was asleep. Or most of him was—there was still that stellar erection to consider. She finally took the time to really look at him. He was blond—a dark gold blond—a perfect foil for those green eyes. His hair was shoulder length and fell in fat, lazy curls. Sleeping as he was, his hair fell haphazardly over his face and gave him an almost innocent appearance.
    Almost.
    There was too much ruggedness and hard living on his features. Not that he looked aged and worn, but just…hard. She got the feeling that life had not been very kind to him. She felt a little guilty for her attack on him the night before, but what had he expected? That she would just roll over and service his needs?
    Well, at least she had figured out a way to avoid that. But that was one night. What was she going to do all the other nights if she stayed with them? No. She had to get to Docking Bay and find some other way to make her way in the world. She simply could not live up to this agreement.
    “I didn’t plan on making you, you know,” he said suddenly, startling her. Her gaze shot to his.
    “Making me?”
    “I was just giving you a hard time. I wasn’t really going to make you service me and my men. I wouldn’t do that.”
    “You wouldn’t?” she asked suspiciously.
    “No,” he said.
    She instantly flared with temper. “Then why did you take my pants? Why didn’t you tell me this last night?”
    “I didn’t want you trying to run away in the middle of the night. And last night I was angry. I tend to get that way after someone bites off my tongue and knees me in my balls.”
    “Ooo!” she ground out. She leapt to her feet and held out her hand with a snap. “Give me my pants!”
    With an unrepentant grin he let his eyes roam down her body, taking his time as he coasted down her bare legs. She shivered…and not entirely from the fact that she was standing in her drawers in the cold of the damp morning. Slowly, without any sign of regret, he removed her pants from beneath his head and held them out to her.
    “Besides, it’s better to sleep together when it’s cold like this.”
    “Then sleep with Doisy next time!” she spat as she shoved one leg into her pants dancing around as she struggled to get her other leg into the tight breeches. Eventually she was forced to sit back down on his bedroll and squirm into them on the ground. She laced them up tightly, yanking at the laces in a temper. “That had to be the most despicable thing I’ve ever been a victim to!”
    “And that’s just what burns you,” he said with a lazy stretch. “That you