“What is it, boy?” Gavin reached automatically for his rifle as he rose from the cot. Duchess joined her mate by the door, her head low, her ears alert.

“Get back,” Gavin ordered as his hand closed around the latch. The last thing in the world he expected to see when he pulled open the door was Rachel Harris driving up to the shack in O’Donnell’s sleigh—alone.

Chapter Twenty-Five

Her heart was racing as he walked toward her, rifle hanging at his side.

“What are you doing here? Is something wrong with the girls?”

“No. I..” Rachel paused, unable to come up with a reply that made sense at the moment. Gavin continued to watch her with dark, stormy eyes.

“We were concerned when you didn’t return,” she finally answered

“Where’s Stubs?” His gaze shifted to the stretch of land behind her. She shivered inside her cloak.

“I think he went down to check the south range.”

“You came up this way alone?” Now there was real anger in his voice. She nodded.

His eyes returned to her. His black brows were drawn together in a scowl, his mouth a thin line of disapproval.

“Get down,” he said at last.

“We’d better get you inside and warm you up.” She tried to say thank you, but the words caught in her throat. She allowed him to take her arm and help her from the sleigh. He didn’t release her immediately. Instead, he steered her forcefully toward the dismal little shack set against the hillside, its roof buried under a thick layer of snow. If she’d thought the exterior dismal, the inside was even more so. There were no windows in the walls of the cabin. A lantern sat on the table, shedding what light it could. The room smelled damp and heavily of wood smoke.

“Here.” Gavin pulled the spindly-looking chair from the table and set it right next to the stove.

“Sit there.” She did as she was told, glad to be off her feet. She seemed to be shaking uncontrollably now. She set her jaw so her teeth wouldn’t chatter and hugged her arms tightly around her chest. Gavin leaned his rifle against the wall near the door before sitting on the cot.

“Are you sure the girls are okay?”

“They’re fine. Jess is with them.”

“He let you come out here in that contraption? Damn it, I’ll-” She spoke in a rush.

“It wasn’t his fault. He couldn’t have stopped me. I.. I had to talk to you. Gavin’s frown eased a bit, although he didn’t look any more welcoming of her company. Now that she was here, she could see that it had been reckless for her to come alone. Perhaps it had been foolish for her to have come at all. At the moment, she was hard pressed to remember what she’d thought she would say if she found him. That had been her worst fear, of course. That she wouldn’t find him. Or that she would find him injured—or worse. Now that he was here before her, looking strong and handsome and angry, it was easy to guess what he would think of her escapade. Rachel glanced toward the stove.

“Is there any coffee in that pot?”

“Yes.” He crossed the room and reached for a tin cup set on a shelf above the stove. With a towel, he picked up the coffeepot and poured the dark brew into the cup.

“Thank you,” she whispered as he handed it to her. He returned to the cot and sat down again, continuing to watch her as silence filled the room. She looked down at the cup in her hands, then took several sips, choking down the bitter brew. It tasted as if it had been on the stove for several days, but it was hot. And she felt a strong need for something hot to fortify her. She looked as pretty as he’d ever seen her. The black fur hat covered her hair and the tips of her tiny ears. Her cheeks, nose, and chin were as red as apples in autumn. Her blue eyes were positively dazzling, like a piece of clear winter sky. As foolish as it was for her to have come alone, he couldn’t deny that he was glad she had come. Just sitting there, she brightened the lonely little shack. As he watched her sipping her coffee, his anger began to fade. She always did that to him, he realized. She had a way of making him unreasonably angry and then making him forget why he’d been angry as the desire to hold her replaced it. That’s what was happening to him now. He wanted to take her in his arms and warm her with his embrace. He wanted to let his kisses change the bright glitter of her eyes to a sultry gaze. He wanted his breath against her cheeks to make her forget the icy weather outdoors. He wanted to pull that fetching fur bonnet from her head and let her hair cascade over her dark coat. And then he wanted to remove that coat and everything beneath it and feast his eyes upon her. Rachel’s eyes widened a fraction as she looked at him. Her mouth parted, as if to release a sigh, although he heard none. It took almost more strength than he possessed to pull his thoughts back to safety.

“Now, tell me what you’re doing here.”

“We were concerned when you didn’t return on Sunday.”

“I told you not to worry if I didn’t get back then.”

“I know, but…” She set the cup on the table.

“Well, I thought…” Her gaze dropped to her lap.

“What was it you thought, Rachel?”

“I was afraid.. . I was afraid I was the reason you were staying away. The girls need you. If I’m the reason you’re staying away from them, I’ll leave.” Her words came faster as she spoke.

“I know you never wanted Dru to hire me as the children’s governess. I’d hoped… Well, I’ll understand if you’d prefer that I go.” Her voice faded. Gavin rose slowly from the cot. Three strides was all it took to carry him to her. He reached down, taking her gloved hands into his, and pulled her to her feet. He knew there was some reason he shouldn’t take her in his arms, but at the moment, he was damned if he could remember what it was. He kissed her, lightly at first. She tasted fresh and sweet—and just a little like coffee. He felt the captured-bird pulse beat in her throat as his hands cradled her face. The kiss changed, deepened, set fire to his blood. He removed her hat, just as he’d imagined doing. He freed her hair from its twist and ran his fingers through it as it tumbled free, over her shoulders and down her back. His hands followed the hair, drifting over her coat until he found the small of her back. He drew her closer, but not close enough to satisfy the building fury. She didn’t protest. Her arms remained at her sides, neither pulling him closer nor pushing him away. Encouraged, he moved his right hand to the clasps of her cloak. Slowly, carefully, he released each one, then pushed the heavy garment from her shoulders, allowing it to drop to the floor around her feet. Once again, he drew her body close against his. How perfectly she fit

in his arms. She seemed to belong there, seemed to have been made for him. But he wanted to feel her without all the trappings between them. He wanted to run his hands over her fair skin. He wanted to look at her breasts. He wanted… He broke the kiss, resting his cheek against her head near her ear. Rachel, he mouthed, but no sound came out.

“When you kiss me,” she whispered, “when you touch me… I can’t think. I can’t remember…” She ended with a sigh. His lips brushed her hair.

“Can’t remember what?” Her voice seemed small and far away.

“When I’m near you, I can’t remember why I must marry Patrick. Gavin, I…” He could have put his hands around her throat and squeezed the life from her. He could have, but he didn’t. Instead, he claimed her mouth in another kiss, punishing her the only way he knew how for her cruelty. That she should be here in his arms, returning his kisses, and still speak of Patrick. He should hate her. Damn it! He would hate her. If his mouth hadn’t covered hers, she would have told him she loved him. She would have told him she couldn’t marry Patrick after all. She would have told him she would die without him.

But he was kissing her again with renewed fury, and she couldn’t break away. She would tell him later. For now, she would enjoy the feel of his lips against hers. The sudden cry of the dogs broke them apart. Gavin shoved her aside and grabbed his rifle.

“Stay put,” he ordered as he eased open the door. Rachel could scarcely breathe. Whether from sudden fear or from his kisses, she wasn’t sure. Gavin let the door swing wide.

“You’d better fix your hair and straighten your clothes, Rachel. Your fiance and Stubs are here.” Then he stepped outside, closing the door behind him. She stood riveted to the floor, feeling a coldness seeping through her. She’d thought… She forced her hands to move, twisting her hair back in place. She leaned down and retrieved her hat, then pulled it over her hair. She could hear voices outside as she picked up her cloak and slipped into it. He would know. Patrick would know just by looking at her. She felt feverish. Her lips were swollen. Her skin tingled. Her knees felt weak. Surely he would look at her and know what had been happening just before he arrived. What had been happening? she wondered as she fastened the top clasp of her cloak. Would she have allowed more than his kisses? She steadied herself with a hand on the table as the answer came to her. Yes! Yes, she would have allowed more. She’d wanted more. She’d wanted him to teach her everything about the intimacies between a man and a woman. God forgive her, she’d wanted it all, and Gavin despised her because of it. She drew a deep breath and stepped toward the cabin door, pulling it open with more courage than she felt. It wasn’t just the loathing she’d heard in Gavin’s voice that made her reluctant to go out. She knew she was in for a scolding from Stubs. And Patrick? She wasn’t sure what Patrick would say or do. The moment he saw her, Patrick skirted around Gavin and strode quickly toward the door. In an instant, he had her in his arms, lifting her feet off the ground.