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little puritan. Your head might tell you that"—he watched the tips of her breasts harden invitingly beneath his touch—"but your body says sin be damned. I never had a virgin before,” he mused aloud as he bent his head to flick his tongue over each hard nub.
    “Isn’t that wonderful,” she said in a sweet voice dripping with sarcasm, “I have given you a first.”
    “Yes, you have,” he said slowly, but he was not referring to her innocence.
    “You can’t mean to—well, to do it again?”she gasped as she became fully aware of his renewed arousal.
    “Certainly do, ma’am. Are you sore?” he asked in sudden concern.
    “Well, not really,” she replied with an honesty that she could not restrain. “Should I be?”
    “Might be tomorrow.”
    “Then perhaps you ought to restrain yourself, since I must ride that beast tomorrow.”
    “I’ll give you an extra blanket. The only thing I restrain myself from is restraining myself.”
    “If everyone thought that way, the world would be in chaos.”
    “Thought it was.” He brushed his lips over hers. “This time you’ll participate.”
    “Not on your life.”
    “It’s not my life at stake,” he reminded her coolly.
    “You are a complete bastard, Mr. Ryder,” she said icily.
    “So I’ve been told, darlin'. Now, shut up.”
    Much to her annoyance, she did. Worse, she did participate to some extent. Yet again they scaled passion’s heights, their bodies in perfect sensual harmony. When he finally eased the embrace, the lethargy she had felt before now weighted her eyelids. She did not even have the strength to scold herself for the way she cuddled up to him.
    “I must put some clothes on,” she murmured sleepily.
    “No, you don’t.” He ran his hand slowly over her side until he let it rest upon the gentle curve of her hip.
    “Thornton. Mustn’t let him see me. Might not wake up before him.”
    “Well, wear my shirt. There’ll be less to take off if I want you again.”
    Groggily she started to don the shirt he held out for her, her gaze fixed upon him with sleepy annoyance. “Don’t I have any say in the matter?”
    “Our deal, you’ll recall.”
    “I have a feeling I shan’t be allowed to forget it for a moment.”
    “Doubt I’ll have the energy to remind you that often.”
    She made a soft noise of disgust as she lay down. But she did not resist when he tucked her up against him spoon-fashion. It felt much too nice and she was much too tired.
    Cloud felt her breathing grow soft and even with sleep. She felt good tucked up against him. He had no urge to seek a private corner to sleep in as he had so often in the past.
    That puzzled him almost as much as the strength of the desire he felt for her. He could not attribute it to a lengthy celibacy, not after a week of Abigail’s assiduous attentions. Neither could he claim it was due to her skill, for she had none except what came naturally. Her shy, reluctant touch had none of Abigail’s practiced enticement, but it made him burn.
    He decided not to think about it. It was just one of those things. As he slipped into the light sleep of the hardened soldier, he decided to just accept and enjoy.
    Screams mingled with bloodthirsty war cries. Emily clasped her hands over her ears, but the sounds went on and on until she thought she would go mad. They did not even stop when the shooting did. When the silence finally came, she could still hear the echoes of the battle.
    Slowly she walked toward the thin column of smoke. So much blood! She gagged over the warm, fresh stench of it. Shutting her eyes tightly did not close out the sight of so many bodies cast like stones over the ground, some twisted, some straight, but all soaked in their life’s blood. Friends lay mutilated, some more than others. She ached to tear the vision from her eyes.
    It was a while before her horror-gripped mind became aware of a deep, soothing voice and a calloused but gentle hand that smoothed over her forehead, driving