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“Thank you.” She imagined herself stomping down hard on his bare foot. Not that she wore any shoes. It would probably hurt her more than him.

“Before we conclude this fascinating conversation—”

“As far as I’m concerned we’ve quite exhausted the topic— "

“—I need to tell you something.”

A change in subject suited her just fine. She folded her arms over her chest. “Go on.”

“Earlier, I went out intent on uncovering the identity of the guest whose arrival precipitated one of us”—He gestured toward himself—“vacating his room. There’s no easy way to say this.”

“I always find the direct approach works best.”

“So you do.” He reached out to squeeze her shoulder, his grip warm and gentle. “Baron Bolton arrived tonight.”

She jerked and he grasped her other shoulder, steadying her.

“I planned to wait ’til morning to discuss the matter but one of us insisted on talking tonight.” His full mouth quirked upward as he tucked an escaped lock of her hair behind her ear.

She shivered at the tenderness of his touch, and reminded herself not to read anything into it. He’d admitted he no longer desired her. This was Caden being Caden, offering comfort, offering strength.

“We must exercise caution, of course, but in light of his inebriated state when last I saw him, I assume he won’t arise with the dawn. An early morning departure will work best.”

“You’re taking me with you,” she said, happiness bubbling up inside her.

Because she had known he would, even though he owed her less than nothing.

He might not want her any longer, and helping her might yet bring calamity down around him, but he could never abandon her, not and still be Caden Thurgood.

Only the sure knowledge he now found her less than alluring kept her rooted to the spot instead hurling herself against him to rain kisses over his face.

“You are the most confounding woman. After everything, did you really expect me to leave you here? By God, I ought t—”

Her good intentions flew out the window. Hands fisting his lapels, she dragged her face into his warm neck. His rough stubble scraped her cheek but she didn’t care. “Don’t be daft. I knew you never could.”

His arms came around her, hesitantly, as if he didn’t know whether to hold her or shake her. “But you just said…” He cursed softly. “Tell me you’re not crying.”

“I’m not crying.” She rubbed the tip of her nose against his collar bone. She never cried. She had no idea why her eyes leaked.

His powerful arms tightened, pulling her into his hard, warm body. One of his hands cruised over her middle back in a slow circle she felt all the way to her toes. She steeled herself against the melting sensation swirling through her. He was merely offering comfort.

“Your non tears are soaking my skin. Anna, look at me,” he demanded, voice gruff.

She tilted her head back.

Their gazes met. The tenderness in his eyes stole her breath.

He brought one hand to trace the salty tracks on her cheek. “I’ll take care of you, no matter what.”

A wobbly smile curved her lips. One of her hands released its death grip on his robe to cup his cheek. “I know,” she whispered. “Just like when we were children.”

His teeth flashed white as a bark of laughter escaped him. “You’ve lost me. What are you talking about now?”

“Your favorite childhood game, Robinhood? Outwitting the villains to save the less fortunate?”

The softness in his gaze vanished. A muscle ticked in his jaw and something hot and primal swirled in the blue depths of his eyes. “I’ll let you in on a secret. Prince Charming rescues the stolen Princess was my favorite game, with you at least, particularly when we were older. ”

“But you opposed it so vehemently.” Awareness of his body, everywhere it touched hers, tingled through her.

He grunted softly. “Because kissing you felt…good. Too good. Left me restless, edgy, irritable.”

“Oh.”

“I’ll tell you something else. There’s nothing, not one damned thing, I don’t desire about you, Anna.”

“That’s not true,” she argued. “We just agreed—.”

“No. You assumed. You need me to spell it out?” he growled.

She nodded, anticipation igniting all her senses.

“You call me chivalrous. Gallant. There’s nothing gallant about how I feel every time I lay eyes on you.

Every time I smell your scent. Every time I recall the sweetness of your mouth, the softness of your skin.

Christ, if I were gallant , I'd be bedding down in the barn with the grooms, not sharing a chamber with you.”

Her words came out a breathless whisper. “That’s impossible. The innkeeper would wonder why since I’m your sister. I…I thought you’d begun to think of me as such.”

His mouth twisted in a sardonic smile. “I assure you, there is nothing fraternal about what I feel for you. Nothing gallant. Nothing chivalrous.”

She licked her lips. “You’re certain?”

He choked on a laugh, then lowered his lips to her ear. “I watched you climb from your bath and envied every last water droplet that had the good fortune to touch your skin.”

She gasped, shocked—but not aghast as she ought to be. Instead delicious heat unfurled in her belly.

“I drank in the sight of you, pink and naked and delectable. From the moment I discovered you in that damned coach the need to ravish every square inch of you has consumed me. I close my eyes to shut out the sight of you, then fantasize about touching you, tasting you, having you. Christ. I’m no bloody paragon, Anna.

You may as well get that out of your head . ”

His rasping words set her body aflame.

“Well?”

She cleared her throat. “I never used the word paragon.”

He made an inarticulate sound that she interpreted as half frustration half amusement. “Anna, do you want me to kiss you? Because I swear by everything holy, if you don’t you’d better tell me n—”

“Yes. Please. ”

He cupped her nape with hands she could swear shook. Then he bent and pressed his lips to hers, softly, so softly she thought she might expire from the pleasure of it.

With the gentlest of pressure his tongue played at the seam of her lips, parting them, then easing past. His mouth was hot and tasted of sweet ale and heaven. She never wanted his mind drugging kiss to end.

She clung to him as her bones turned liquid and her knees threatened to give out.

As if aware of the effect his kiss had on her, he scooped her into his arms. He carried her to the bed, then sprawled onto his back, cradling her atop him as the mattress jostled and squeaked its protest.

She slid off his chest, dragging half of his robe with her, fully baring his chest. Feeling audacious and bolder than she had a right to, she levered herself onto her forearm to drink in the sight of him, long and lean and stretched out alongside her.

The supple skin of his torso glowed bronze in the stuttering firelight and that intriguing line of glistening tawny golden hair fanned out from below his belly button, then narrowed to disappear beneath the waistband of his trousers .

Her gaze dipped lower, taking in the bulging evidence of his arousal. Her breath caught as joy and delight, anticipation and longing swirled inside her. He did want her.

He swallowed audibly and lifted one hand to trace the curve of her cheek. “What’s going through that pretty head of yours, Anna?”

“I…” She licked her lips. “I was so sure you didn’t want me…”

“You little fool.”

She fell into him, her fingers kneading the rippling muscles of his chest, her lips pressing into the base of his throat. She dipped her tongue into the tender hollow where his heartbeat pulsed.

His skin was warm and firm and tasted of salt and Caden.

He drew in a ragged breath and she felt him loosening her braid. “Yes, darling. Touch me. Everywhere.”

Reckless, giddy, unfathomable delight filled her to overflowing.

With a groan, he speared his fingers into her now-loose hair. Gooseflesh rippled over her body and she shivered with pleasure.

Cupping her nape, he drew her face level with his.

She met his gaze and sucked in a breath at the raw desire she saw reflected there.

“To be clear, I want you, more than I’ve ever wanted anyone or anything in my life.”

If she could speak, she’d tell him she felt exactly the same way about him.

He dragged her face toward his and their lips tangled in a voracious kiss. She wound her arms around his neck, pulling her body against the hard plains of his chest. A whimper of need sounded in her throat. She was too lost to care.

Caden’s answering half groan, half growl was all the warning she got before, in a lightning swift move, he shifted their positions .

He lay atop her, his forearms bracketing her shoulders, his muscular thighs cocooning hers, his hips nestled into hers.

He cupped her face between hot, slightly damp palms. Slowly, deliberately, he lowered his head, brushing her lips with lingering kisses that turned her insides to melted wax.

When his tongue began slipping in and out of her mouth, her own body’s demand for more emboldened her to touch the tip of her tongue to his. A shiver went through him.

A moment later he tore his mouth from hers and pressed his face into her neck. “I need to taste you,” he whispered against her skin.

She had no notion of what he meant, but his gruff words curled into her, causing her insides to tremble with violent need.

He nibbled his way to her ear, then nipped at her earlobe.

His soft mouth, his hot breath, his sharp teeth, had her wriggling in unfathomable excitement.

“You squirming is driving me mad,” he murmured, not sounding the least bit annoyed.

His fingertips cruised down her neck, over her décolleté, to cup one breast.

The heat from his palm seared her skin through her nightshift. He squeezed lightly then his fingers found her nipple to toy with it through the thin fabric. A delicious shock of pleasure rippled through her with every gentle pull.