Free Through the Looking Glass by Kay Hooper Page A

am on the ground because Sean decided to uproot a pretty rosebush for me, and I'm potting it in this old water bucket. You're on the ground because it's difficult to talk to someone who's sitting at your feet."
    "Concisely explained. At the risk of sounding less than manly, I'm getting a cramp in my calf."
    Maggie lifted an eyebrow at him. "Men don't get cramps?"
    "Only after marathons or strenuous gym workouts; it's considered wimpy to get one simply by kneeling on the ground. Can we get up now?"
    "We probably should. The natives are getting restless."
    Gideon glanced toward the wagons and tents and encountered a number of curious stares. "True. I forgot about them."
    "They didn't forget about you—ouch!"
    He looked at her, then quickly reached out to take her hand. "Here, let me."
    "It's just a thorn—"
    "I know. Hold still."
    Maggie did, allowing him to gently extract the thorn from her index finger. As she gazed at his bent head she began to feel curiously breathless. Despite being the center of all eyes, they seemed to be alone, isolated. Sunlight filtered by the trees wove a pattern of light and shadow over them, and a warm breeze whispered as it touched the grass and trees. And them.
    All of Maggie's senses came vividly alive in a way she'd never known before. Her sight and hearing were acute, and the feeling of his cool hands touching hers was so intense it felt almost shatteringly intimate. And then he lifted her hand, his lips closing over her index finger, and she felt a totally alien explosion of heat somewhere deep inside her.
    Her thoughts scattered like autumn leaves, fluttering unconnected through her mind. He shouldn't be doing this, her hands were dirty... he had a cramp in his leg... and people were watching... why did she suddenly feel naked?
    "Don't," she murmured huskily.
    Gideon raised his head, looking at her with darkened eyes. A muscle flexed in his jaw, and his hands were still holding hers, caressing it. His strong features held the stamp of that fierce thing she had seen before and heard in his voice, that unconsciously relentless... need? Determination? Whatever it was, it triggered instincts far deeper and more complex than those of a chameleon.
    "Don't what?" His voice was soft, uneven.
    She couldn't look away, couldn't reclaim her hand. His eyes were like storms in his taut face, holding a violence of emotion contained only by fragile barriers. She couldn't answer his question aloud, but she thought he must have found some kind of answer in her face.
    "Maggie," he whispered, and bent his head again, pressing his lips into her palm.
    It was as if some softly playing music inside Maggie suddenly reached a crescendo, a tense, breathless moment when her heart thudded wildly. Her response to him was physical, emotional, on every level of herself; she had never in her life been so completely attuned to another human being.
    The strength of that feeling was brief, reaching a peak and then ebbing slowly until it was only a pulsing warmth inside her, but it left behind it a confused excitement that made her retreat cautiously, as if from the edge of something not quite stable. Very gently, she withdrew her hand from his grasp.
    "I thought I'd put the rosebush beside my steps," she said conversationally, looking at the shrub in question. "It'll probably bloom at least once more before fall."
    "I'm getting there, Maggie." His voice was still roughly uneven, low. "I'm finding the answers. You can pull away now, but what happens when there aren't any more questions? How will you pull away from me then?"
    "Maybe that's the last question." She rose to her feet, watching as he did as well. "Maybe by then—we'll both know the answer."
    Gideon looked at her for a moment, not angry but intent, searching. Then he bent to pick up his gift for Lamont and Maggie's potted rosebush. Straightening, he said, "I've always considered myself a patient man. Well find out, won't we?"
    They began walking toward Maggie's