Free Once A Wolf by Susan Krinard

I think I might be warmer away from your natural chill, but I prefer to have you in my
    sight." He took her arm. "Luckily, you're not unpleasant to the eyes."
    "Kindly spare me your dubious compliments," she said. She shook off his arm and walked ahead
    of him into the ruined house, snatching up one of the blankets as she passed. She laid it in the
    corner farthest from his. Her clothing was no better fitted for crouching than riding, but she
    managed to make a pillow of sorts and sat down as rigidly as if she'd been in a hard-backed
    chair.
    Tomás made himself comfortable and used his knife to cut off a wedge of cheese. "And to think
    I went to the trouble of getting all this for you," he said, gesturing to the bread and
    strawberries.
    "I'm very sorry. What do you usually dine on—raw meat?" His night vision could just make out
    the flush that rose to her cheeks the moment she finished speaking.
    He examined a juicy strawberry. "I am a wolf. Perhaps you identify with another kind of animal.
    Shakespeare wrote about such a creature in one of his plays. In Spanish, we call it La Fierecilla
    Domada. You would call it The Taming of the Shrew."
    Her blush deepened. "An outlaw who knows Shakespeare," she said. "I am duly impressed."
    "I know many things," he said. And I believe I may come to know you well, my Lady of Ice,
    before our acquaintance is finished. "In answer to your question, my men and I are usually
    content with tortillas, frijoles—beans, to you—and chiles." He popped the strawberry into his
    mouth. "Are you quite sure you are not hungry?"
    She turned her face away and began to shove her hair about, attempting to untangle the
    knotted strands with her fingers. Tomás sighed and went in search of her saddlebags. She
    looked at him warily when he dropped the bags beside her.
    "I have never known a woman to be without a hairbrush," he said, untying the flaps. Rowena
    made a halfhearted bid to snatch the bags away, but not before he found what he was seeking
    amid the folds of cloth and female gewgaws. "Ah." He examined the handsome brush with a
    practiced eye. "Expensive."
    "Do you care to calculate the worth of the few belongings you've left me?" she said. "Perhaps
    you intend to sell them as you plan to sell me?"
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    He raised his hands, palm out. "Paz, Lady Rowena. It is true that such a thing might feed a
    village family for a week, but I will not take it from you. And if selling you were my intention, I'd
    find you a far better master than MacLean." He presented the brush with a little bow and
    backed away.
    Her thanks was hardly effusive; he might have mistaken it for a curse. Golden hair made a
    screen about her face as she went to work. Tomás chewed a piece of bread and observed her
    struggle, almost moved to pity. After a handful of minutes she partially reemerged, eyes
    glittering with something very like savagery.
    "You wished to learn of ladies?" she said between her teeth. "Here is your first lesson. There is
    a reason we keep our hair up when we ride."
    "So I see. Lo siento; I am sorry. It was just too great a temptation to resist."
    "And of course you never resist temptation."
    "As seldom as possible." Once again he wondered if she realized how provocative her banter
    sounded. It frankly surprised him, for it was not what he remembered of her in England. She
    had not behaved so when she'd thought him a gentleman of her own class and country.
    A man like Cole MacLean would not tolerate such boldness in his woman. He'd regard her as an
    inferior, like every other creature on the earth—his property, made to defer to him in all things.
    No, she could not have spoken so to Cole. Nor would he have suspected she wished to.
    Either she simply considered Tomás too far beneath her to watch her tongue, or it was all the
    defense of a woman who was too proud to acknowledge fear or disadvantage, even to herself.
    She spoke of temptation. Was she