why he'd been avoiding her. Something was wrong, all right, and she didn't want to fret about it any longer.
When Cole left the room, Harrison went to the back door and looked into the night.
A cool breeze filtered in through the screen. 'What are you looking at?' she asked.
' Paradise.'
He turned and found her standing just a foot away from him. He didn't say a word to her. He simply took hold of her hand, turned around again, and went outside.
She meekly followed him. She expected him to stop on the back porch, but he continued on down the stairs and across the yard. His stride was long, purposeful. He wanted to put some distance between her and her brothers so he could talk to her. He let go of her hand halfway across the yard and continued on to the corral. He turned to her then, folded his arms across his chest, and leaned back against the wooden railing.
She stood at least ten feet away from him. She wanted to run to him, to put her arms around him and hold him close. Instead, she stood where she was and waited for a sign that he wanted her to touch him.
He seemed content to stare at her. She didn't feel uncomfortable under his close scrutiny. His eyes were filled with warmth now. There was such tenderness in his gaze, she felt as though he was already stroking her. She instinctively moved closer to him, her gaze locked with his, and she didn't even try to fight her own reaction to him. He hadn't touched her, yet she still felt breathless and warm and restless with yearning.
She'd missed being held by him. She found herself wondering if he realized how much he'd changed since he'd arrived in Montana. There was a savage quality about him now, a ruggedness she hadn't noticed the day she'd met him. He had always been muscular and tall, but now he seemed Herculean to her. The sun had weathered his skin into a much deeper, bronzed color. Although it wasn't possible, his eyes seemed to be darker too, and his hair was much longer, nearly reaching his shoulders. It was still dark in color, but the moonlight made it appear to be streaked with gold.
The longer she looked at him, the more difficulty she had catching her breath.
He noticed the subtle change in her. Her eyes had turned a deep blue. She had a bemused look on her face. She was arousing the hell out of him.
He recognized the look. Her eyes always turned just that color when he kissed her. Passion had caused the reaction then. What was the reason now?
He thought he knew, but he was going to make her tell him anyway.
'What are you thinking about?' His voice was the deep, husky drawl of a Highlander.
'How beautiful you are,' she whispered. 'You are, you know. I thought you were handsome when I first met you, but now even looking at you makes my breath catch in the back of my throat.'
She couldn't believe she'd had the courage to tell him the truth, especially given the fact that he had been avoiding her all week long.
'I was also thinking that you've been avoiding me. Have you grown tired of me?'
The question astonished him. He couldn't imagine why she would worry over such an impossibility.
'I could never grow tired of you. I think about you from the minute I wake up until the second I fall asleep. Hell, I even dream about you.'
'You do?' she asked the question on a sigh.
'Yes, I do.'
The caress had moved into his voice. She took another step closer. 'I'll bet we think about the same things.' Like kissing and holding each other and sharing our secrets and our dreams.
His laugh was derisive. 'I doubt it. You don't know much about men, do you?'
'I thought I did. I have four brothers. I usually know what they're thinking.'
'Is that right? Do you really want to know what I'm thinking about right now?'
She slowly nodded. Then she took another step toward him. 'Yes, please. You've made me very curious.'
'I'm thinking how hot you're going to be when I make love to you. I'm picturing you sprawled out on my sheets, your skin soft and golden, your hair wild and untamed, your mouth swollen and rosy because I've spent a long while ravaging it. Your eyes will be the color of blue they are right now. I'm thinking about that little sound you'll make in the back of your throat that makes me go crazy and get so hard I ache to be inside you. I'm thinking how wild and savage our lovemaking will be, and how you'll dig your nails into my shoulders when we're sealed together and I'm throbbing inside you, and how tight and wet you'll be. That's pretty much what I was thinking.'
She couldn't seem to catch her breath. She was amazed she could still stand up. The erotic pictures he'd painted for her were making her knees weak.
He wasn't quite finished. He slowly unfolded his arms and said, 'I won't be gentle. You won't want me to be. Understand me, Mary Rose. I'm going to have you, over and over and over again. Want me to go on?'
She couldn't manage to answer him. She felt as though he'd just set her on fire. She could feel her face burning and was suddenly in dire need of her fan or a drink of ice-cold water.
She lowered her head so he wouldn't see how red her face was becoming. He would think she was embarrassed. She wasn't at all embarrassed, though, and that surprised her more than anything else.
The man certainly had a way with words. He had been extremely blunt and completely honest with her. He deserved her honesty in return. She wasn't going to pretend she hadn't liked what he'd said to her. She thought a proper lady would probably turn around now and go running back to the house for safety. Perhaps that was the reason he wasn't holding her. He was giving her the freedom to decide if she was proper or not. His words had been lover's words and were not to be mocked but embraced, and she did exactly that.
She looked up at him, stared directly into his eyes, and whispered, 'That's pretty much what I was thinking.'
He looked arrogantly pleased with her. She closed the distance between them quickly. She stood between his feet, with her arms around his waist, and leaned into him.
'I'm wearing clothes in my thoughts and dreams though. What am I wearing in yours?' she asked.
'Me.'
The single word flooded her mind with all sorts of erotic pictures. She became breathless thinking about the two of them in bed together without a stitch of clothing between them.
' Harrison, when you say things like… you make me feel…'
'Warm all over?'
'Yes,' she whispered. 'Warm all over. I'm being brazen admitting it, aren't I? I don't believe I'd act like this if any other man talked to me the way you just did.'
'Hell, I hope not.'
'You make me feel beautiful,' she whispered with wonder in her voice.
'You are beautiful,' he said. 'You aren't brazen, sweetheart. You were being honest with me. You weren't telling the truth about thinking and dreaming the way I do though.'
'How do you know I wasn't?' Lord, how she loved the rough timbre of his voice. It made her shiver all over with yearning.
'You don't have any experience to draw from to have such thoughts. You don't have any idea how good it's going to be between us.'
She leaned back so she could look into his eyes. 'Exactly how much experience have you had?'
'Enough.'
He wasn't going to elaborate, and she decided not to pursue the matter. His past conquests were simply that. Past. The present belonged to her. Besides, she couldn't even think about Harrison making love to another woman without getting a sharp pain of anguish and jealousy.
'It hurts to think about you with another woman.'
'I can't change the past for you. I never loved any of the women I took to my bed, and they certainly didn't love me. We used each other because we wanted the same thing.'
'What did you want?'
'Physical gratification,' he answered. 'I'm not proud of my behavior. Using anyone the way I did was wrong. I had to grow up before I figured it all out, however.'
She nodded so he would know she understood. 'Cole and Travis and Douglas haven't quite grown up yet.'
