Her blanket had already fallen off, but now…more than her blanket fell off. Her prudence, her sanity, her dignity, all disintegrated in that tiny instant when his lips came in contact with hers.

It was crazy. It was ridiculous. Unlike last night, this time she’d meant to be a woman in control of the situation, teasing him a little, flirting, maybe even mocking.

But it wasn’t working. Because none of those descriptions of what she was doing fitted the reality of now.

She wasn’t teasing. Nor was she in control.

She was aware of one thing only. The feel of his lips on hers.

Wow.

As simple as that. Wow.

She’d kissed before-of course she’d kissed before-but where had this feeling been then? This sensation of heat-of fusing-of two halves coming together, connecting as if they’d been torn apart and had been trying to find their way together long since.

Heat…

The sensation of his lips touching hers sent fire right through her. She could feel it coursing from her toes to her fingertips.

What was happening?

This was no longer a fleeting kiss. He was holding her as if, like her, he was no longer cool and controlled, but rather he’d been taken over by a surge of feelings so strong that he could do nothing but give in to them.

How long they stayed like that, she could never afterwards remember. She had bare feet. They were cold against the stones and afterwards in the privacy of her bedroom she would feel them and think she’d been dumb to stay on the battlements for so long.

But that was for later. That was for a time when she could feel her feet. Which wasn’t now.

Now.

Her mouth opened under his, and it was like she was melting into him. Pierce…

His kiss deepened and deepened again. She was holding him tight, glorying in the strength of him, the arrant maleness, the sheer wonder of his body against hers.

The fusing of their mouths was no longer enough. He was exploring her body with his hands, holding her close, forcing her breasts to mould against his chest. He was glorying in the sensation of two bodies merging just as much as she was.

An image crept into her mind. How strange, that it should have stayed with her, and resurrected itself here at this time. It was the vision of Pierce as she’d first seen him. Fifteen years old, tall, dark and malnourished, all angular bones and shadows.

The image was so strong that it was almost a part of her. Had she held him in her heart all this time?

It was ridiculous. But it wasn’t. It suddenly felt right. The coming together of something that was almost meant to be.

Crazy. Fanciful. But powerful beyond belief, so powerful that it almost terrified her. But it didn’t terrify her so much that she pulled away. She couldn’t. For along with the terror came something else, something so sweet and so strong that she felt she was changing, a chrysalis shedding its outer shell to reveal a beauty that made her gasp.

Pierce…

She held him close, aware that part of her was kissing that bereft, solitary fifteen-year-old, seeking to comfort, seeking to warm, but most of her was kissing the man he’d become. The man who’d taken in these children when the last thing he wanted was family responsibility. The man who’d driven a bull from her path. The man whose smile made her heart turn over, and whom she wanted with every fibre of her being.

In another time, another place, they might have been so out of control that things might have moved to their logical conclusion. For Shanni there was no question. This kiss had changed her world, and her fragile web of control was so shattered that she could only savour the kiss, savour the feel of him and hold him, never wanting to release him.

Only of course this wasn’t another time or another place. They were on the battlements of a children’s home. In the building behind them were five children in their charge.

This craziness-this wonder-must be interrupted, and it was. A door opened somewhere beneath them and sensor lights flooded the battlements, like searchlights, blasting into their cocoon of privacy, leaving them exposed and confused. Leaving Shanni…bereft?

‘Hey!’ It was a woman’s voice, yelling from below.

They pulled apart, like guilty teenagers. Shanni’s blanket was around her toes. Dazed and dishevelled, fighting to regain some semblance of reality, she bent to retrieve it, leaving Pierce to talk to whoever was calling up to them from below.

‘Is that you, Pierce?’ It was Susie, Lady of Loganaich.

‘Hi,’ Pierce called, and his voice sounded as shaken as Shanni was feeling. Maybe even more.

‘I should have told you. We’ve got an alarm wired to sound if people are up there,’ Susie said apologetically. ‘For the kids.’

Oh heck, Shanni thought dumbly, and did a furtive search for security cameras.

‘We’re really sorry we woke you,’ Pierce called, and Shanni thought, thank God, he could talk, because she didn’t think she could.

‘You didn’t wake me,’ Susie called. ‘I was pacing the kitchen, thinking wishful thoughts about dill pickles.’

Dill pickles. Okay. There was something really grounding in dill pickles. ‘You’re pregnant?’ Shanni said cautiously, peering over the edge.

‘Oh, it’s Shanni too,’ Susie called cheerfully. ‘Hi, Shanni. Yep, I’m just a little bit pregnant.’

‘Susie?’ A deep male voice called from inside the open castle doors. ‘Where the hell are you?’

‘I’m out here protecting the battlements,’ Susie called, and then as Hamish, Lord of Loganaich, emerged from the big front doors she walked forward and hugged her husband. She did it naturally and easily, as if it was her right. A woman with her man…

Shanni swallowed. The sight was suddenly almost overwhelmingly enticing. This man and this woman loved each other.

Pierce was so close…

‘Who’s on the battlements?’ Hamish growled, kissing his wife tenderly on the top of her head, and then turning to gaze upwards, shielding his eyes from the glare of the floodlights. Shanni and Pierce were lit like Christmas candles. Or like gargoyles decorating the turrets.

Shanni stared at Pierce. He looked ruffled. He looked wonderful. Her Pierce. And suddenly she chuckled, surprising even herself.

‘What’s funny?’ Pierce demanded.

‘I was just thinking we made great gargoyles,’ Shanni said, loud enough for the couple below to hear. ‘Me and my blanket.’

‘Speak for yourself,’ Pierce growled.

‘Mrs and Mr Gargoyle,’ she said, deciding humour was the only way to go.

‘You didn’t look like you were carved in stone when I first saw you,’ Susie called up to them.

‘Shanni’s a bit cuddly for a gargoyle,’ Pierce retorted.

The night was spinning out of control again. ‘Cuddly?’ Shanni demanded, still trying desperately to use humour to defuse the way she was feeling. ‘Cuddly?’ She’d meant to lose a few pounds…but cuddly?

Pierce was grinning. ‘Definitely cuddly.’

She glowered.

‘I guess gargoyles play at night,’ Susie called. ‘When everyone else is in bed.’

‘Which is where we should all be right now,’ Hamish interjected. He was wearing pyjama bottoms and nothing else. Pierce was the only one among them decorously dressed. ‘Are you guys all right?’

‘We’re fine,’ Pierce called back.

‘And the kids?’

‘Asleep. We were just…talking about the kids.’

‘That’s what it looked like,’ Susie said, and grinned.

‘So why are you up?’ Hamish demanded, turning on his wife again.

‘I was looking for a dill pickle.’

‘Dill pickle.’

‘Why don’t we have dill pickles in the larder? Or sardines. Sardines in a can. I can’t find them anywhere.’

‘This is going to be a very long pregnancy,’ Hamish said, sounding resigned. ‘You want me to wake up the Dolphin Bay grocer and get a priority delivery of pickles?’

‘I can live without them,’ Susie said, and sighed. ‘If I must. If I can get them very early in the morning.’

‘I’d like to go into town tomorrow and get Wendy a haircut,’ Shanni called, trying valiantly to get a handle on a conversation that seemed to be getting away from all of them. Especially her. ‘I can get dill pickles then.’

‘I’ll come with you,’ Susie said.

‘Hey, I’m coming, too,’ Pierce said, and the conversation spiralled again.

Why had he said it? Shanni looked at him and then looked away. He seemed more confused than she was.

‘We could all go,’ Hamish said.

‘No.’ At least the Lady of Loganaich sounded decisive. ‘You can’t. Actually, I can’t either, cos we promised the rest of the kids they could spend the whole day on the beach, and they don’t know how to swim. Imagine that! What a pleasure, to teach them how much fun the water is. And I’ve suddenly thought-there’s anchovy paste in the larder. I think that’ll do.’

‘God help us,’ said Hamish.

‘We’re wasting time,’ Susie retorted. ‘I could be spreading toast with anchovy paste this very minute. Goodnight, guys.’ And she towed her husband anchovy-wards without another word.

Leaving Shanni with Pierce. Alone.

Really alone.

As soon as the pair below went inside the floodlights flicked off. Hamish and Susie had obviously decided the pair on the roof needed darkness as well as solitude.

This wasn’t altogether wise. It wasn’t wise at all. Pierce was looking blank. Verging on appalled.

Wrong look. Shanni took a couple of steps backwards.

‘There’s no need for you to come into town tomorrow,’ she managed. ‘Wendy and I will be fine.’

‘She flinches when I’m near.’

‘Only when she forgets…that you’re you.’

‘So maybe I should be working on that.’

‘It’s not so important if you’re going to step back,’ she said diffidently, trying hard not to think how close he was. How she wanted him so much to take her hands again. To…