Free Kissing the Countess by Susan King Page A

other.
    Finally the door opened and he came back inside, returning to kneel beside her. Catriona pretended to be asleep, her back turned to him. After a while he lay down beside her again, and she did not stir. His breathing deepened and finally slowed, and she felt herself drifting to sleep.
    She still felt cold, for the shared warmth under the plaid was nothing compared to the fervent heat they had created between them earlier.
    * * *
    Evan woke with Catriona tucked in his arm, her head on his shoulder. His breath frosted in the air as he exhaled, and he felt icy drafts leaking through the walls and roof. The hour must be near dawn, he thought, for gray light filled the little house.
    Although he did not hear rain, he knew that the slopes leading down to the glen would still be dangerously slippery. He and Catriona should stay in the shieling hut a little longer.
    With a strange clarity of thought, he knew that he wanted to stay here with her as long as he could. He wished they had the freedom to blissfully explore each other, as they had begun last night, when her passionate response had stirred him fiercely.
    What the devil had he been thinking, to love her like that? The memory felt like a hot dream now, but it had been far too real. The girl was charming and gentle and had slipped past his usual defenses. And then he had lost his customary control.
    Holding her close, he felt desire resurge. But disgracing her was no payment for saving his life.
    Tightening his arm around her, he sighed with regret mingled with longing. She sagged against him, warm and trusting in sleep. They had both needed heat last night, and the succor of another soul in this lonely place. But what would follow next, once they left this hut?
    He owed her an apology, and more, though he was not yet sure what to do, what to say to her. He had acted neither rationally nor gentlemanly. The damage was done. Her innocence had been intimately breached, and he was at fault for that—despite the fact that she had been curious and willing.
    He scarely knew her, yet he desired her and felt bound to her. Long after he left the shieling, his heart would belong, a little, to her. No woman had ever had quite so intense an effect on him or so much natural power to drive him to madness. She had soothed him, suited him, understood him as no one ever had before, though he could not explain why.
    Dipping his head, he kissed her brow. The magic still coursed between his body and hers—he could feel it like a magnet's pull. But the weather would soon clear, and the world waited for them, and all this would end.
    He was exhausted, and she was asleep, and nothing needed solving quite yet. Holding her, he felt himself sliding back into dreams alongside her.
    * * *
    "Catriona!"
    She stirred, hearing her name, thinking Evan had spoken, although the sound was oddly distant. She opened her eyes to bright morning sunlight seeping into the shadowed interior. She had slept far later than she had thought she might.
    He lay beside her, his arm circling her. The warmth felt wonderful. "Evan," she whispered. "Did you call me?"
    "What?" He blinked at her sleepily.
    "Catriona!" The voice shouted again. "Where are you?"
    Then she knew. "My father," she blurted, sitting up. "He's outside—"
    "Catriona! Are you in there?"
    She scrambled out of the plaid, but Evan pushed her down, pulling the wool over her. "Stay there," he murmured, getting to his feet. She reached toward him. "Stay down!" he said. "You're not dressed."
    "Oh, no," she groaned, remembering that she was not. She clutched the plaid.
    "Catriona!"
    Then the door burst open, and pale light poured inside, silhouetting a giant of a man wearing a black suit and a bowler hat crushing a leonine mane of hair. He cast a formidable shadow as he stood gripping a long walking stick.
    "Catriona," he thundered, peering into the dim interior. "Are you in here, girl?"
    "Here, Papa." Heart slamming, she half sat and drew the plaid blanket to