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slipped from her mind.
    She saw only Donell, the slight narrowing of his dark, intense eyes.
    She held up a hand, hoping to halt him.
    He kept on, ignoring her objection. “You needn’t assure me of her talents.” He tossed the quip to her father, not breaking stride. “Lady Gillian is as renowned for her skills as for her beauty.”
    “See here…” Gillian couldn’t finish, needing a steadying breath more than arguments. Sparks leapt between them, the very air shifting. Heat rose around her, warming her skin despite the racing wind, the day’s bitter cold.
    He was almost upon her and she felt more than saw his displeasure. He’d caught himself quickly, even before her father finished speaking. If he’d been shocked by the implications behind praise of her housekeeping talent,he’d again seized the advantage. He wore a wickedly devilish look that jellied her knees.
    She bristled.
    He might be roguish, even wildly attractive, but she wouldn’t bat her eyelashes, allow him to fluster her. There were surely enough women who did. And she wasn’t about to join their ranks.
    She wasn’t so easily charmed.
    So she lifted her chin, willing a steely glint into her eyes. She knew with feminine instinct that he wasn’t pleased by her father’s reminder of their betrothal.
    Perhaps he’d met another woman during his years away, wished to marry her?
    One could hope.
    She wouldn’t mind releasing him from their ties, freeing him to claim another.
    Unfortunately, the closer he came, the more she discerned an entirely different intent. As he loomed before her, his towering presence blocking her family and even her view of the landing beach, she knew she wasn’t mistaken. Especially when he set his hands on her shoulders, a slow smile spreading across his strong, bearded face.
    He meant to kiss her.
    She frowned, hoping to dissuade him.
    “It’s too late for posturing, sweetness.” He shook his head, the thick raven silk of his hair teasing his broad, plaid-draped shoulders.
    “I did no’ expect to see you again.” Gillian straightened, flicked at her sleeve. “No’ this day, no’ ever. In truth, I scarce recognize you.”
    “Then I was gone too long, I’m thinking.” He caught her hand, linking their fingers, bringing her wrist to hislips. The warmth of his mouth against her skin and the light brush of his wind-chilled beard sent a rush of tingly sensation along her nerves.
    Even the thin scar that arced across his left cheekbone made her breath catch, her insides quiver. Obviously a knife-slash, and a mark she didn’t recall, the scar enhanced his appeal, giving him a roguish air she was sure had most women melting into puddles at his feet. Inexplicably irritated by the notion, she stiffened, hoping he couldn’t tell how much he unsettled her.
    Chill mist swirled around them, but she’d have sworn the air held enough heat to singe them.
    She could feel the blaze, hot and searing.
    Worse, a terrible tingly warmth spread across her most private places. Intense, and shockingly pleasurable, the rush of intimate sensation was unlike anything she’d ever felt.
    She kept her chin raised, sure even the blood in her veins had turned to flame. “I understand if you have regrets about our betrothal. If you’d rather—”
    “My only sorrow is that I left you on your own, all this time.” He straightened, still grasping her hand. His own was warm and firm, calloused. “It was an unavoidable mishap that I must remedy to the fullest. Indeed, I shall put the task above all others,” he said, a slow smile curving his lips. “You, fair lady, deserve nae less.”
    Gillian bristled, not missing the irony in his voice.
    She was certain he hadn’t meant a word.
    The tingly ripples between her thighs began to lessen, the unexpected and shocking heat cooling.
    “I, sir, am the least of your cares.” She leaned around him to peer at his ship; the men still unloading his cargo.Some of them threw looks at Donell that