He recoiled his head as if she'd slapped him. "Och, now, Maggie, I don't know which of us you just insulted most with that statement. Do you honestly think I would..."

Braden paused as he truly thought about her words. And in that moment, he learned something about himself he didn't like.

She was right. He couldn't even guess how often he'd been with one woman when another, more attractive woman had come along and "distracted" him.

"You were saying?" she asked.

"Nothing," he said, glancing off into the dark forest. For the first time in his life, he felt guilty over some of what he'd done in the past.

Maggie settled back down on the hard ground and he watched her struggle for comfort.

In spite of himself, Braden pondered what he would do if a more attractive woman were here. Would he flit after her the first chance he had and pay no more heed to Maggie?

Could he truly be that shallow a person?

The most painful part of all was that he didn't know for sure whether he would or not.

Hewas an a.s.s and a scoundrel. And for the first time in his life, he wished he were different.

Why couldn't he be more like Lochlan? Steadfast and loyal, or like Ewan.

Nay, he thought quickly. Not like Ewan. Ewan was too monkish for his tastes. But he could be like Sin.

Sin was respectful and discreet, and women threw themselves at him as much as they did Braden.

Unbidden, his gaze went back to Maggie lying stiffly on the ground. She deserved so much better than a scoundrel like him. She deserved a man who could love her, and her alone. In truth, she needed such a man.

And in his heart, Braden knew he could never be that man. He wasn't capable of giving himself over to just one single woman. Ever. He loved his freedom too much. He loved his women too much.

For that reason, he would have to keep himself from her. Because in the end, he could offer her nothing more than a broken heart, and he didn't want to add any more unhappiness to her life.

Still, thoughts of Maggie drifted through his mind. Thoughts of her earlier kiss. The softness of her pale skin beneath his hand. The sound of her breath whispering in his ear.

But even worse was the imagined sight he had of her lying naked beneath him, her amber eyes dark with hunger as she cradled him with her entire body and urged his hips with her hands as he lost himself deep inside her.

His hunger for her was enough to drive him mad. Never had he felt such a strong, alluring need to find out exactly what a woman's pa.s.sion was like. But with Maggie, he wanted to know. Nay, 'twas almost a need to find out if she was as hot and pa.s.sionate without her clothes as she was in them.

Leaning forward ever so slightly, Braden closed his eyes and inhaled the sweet, feminine scent of Maggie's hair and he ached to trace his fingers over the creamy skin of her cheek.

Too well, he remembered her pa.s.sion. The taste of her breath mingling with his as he plundered her mouth and laid claim to her virginal lips.

At that moment, he wanted nothing more than to claim the rest of her for his very own.

His body stirred violently at the thought.

Aye, she was a la.s.s to savor. A vibrant treasure that he wanted to spend weeks exploring.

His gaze drifted over the length of her wrapped beneath the plaid. Only a few pieces of cloth separated their bodies. Separated him from the part of her he longed for most.

It would be so easy to lift the hem of her plaid and bury himself deep inside her. To listen to her moans of pleasure as he taught her the oldest, most intimate dance a man and woman could ever share.

In all these years, why had he never noticed her before? What had kept him so blinded?

There were no words to describe her spirit or her conviction. Never had he met such a woman, and yet there had never been a moment in his memory when he hadn't knownher .

"You know, little blossom, you could be safe in your bed this night."

"Aye," she whispered, staring into the fire before her. "I could. But it wouldn't do anything to stop the dying. I would give anything for this feud to end."

"Except let me kill Robby MacDouglas."

She grew quiet as she mulled over his words.

"Perhaps I judged you harshly," she whispered. "Perhaps I should hate him for the deaths of my brothers. If not for him and his bloodl.u.s.t, they would be alive now. But somewhere deep inside him, there must be a part that wants an end to this as much as we do. Surely, after five years of fighting, he must be weary of it. Aren't you?"

He didn't respond.

"Braden?"

"I'm thinking on it."

She turned to look at him, her face incredulous. "You still want to fight?"

"There is something to be said for it."

Her eyes burned bright in frustration and she growled low in her throat, then she pushed at his shoulder.

Braden laughed as he pretended to tussle with her.

"Do I need to go for a stroll?" Sin's voice cut into their play.

"Nay," Maggie said quickly, moving away from him. "I am merely trying to kill your brother."

"Ever the charmer, eh, Braden?"

"Hold your tongue, Sin."

"I would, but with my luck, one of your giant Scottish bugs would land on it. Besides, it makes my hand wet and pruney when I do that."

Braden rolled his eyes, wishing he had something close enough to toss at Sin.

Maggie laughed softly.

"Good night, Braden," she said, returning to her original position.

"Good night, little blossom," he whispered. But inside, he knew a night without her kiss could never be called good.

A few hours later, Maggie awoke with a start to find Braden's arms wrapped protectively around her.

At some point in the night, they had drifted even closer together and she lay perfectly entwined with him before the fire.

An odd, foreign need beat at the center of her body as she enjoyed the strange sensation of his masculine thigh pressing high between her own. Oh, but it was a wicked, wicked feeling. One she was certain a young woman shouldn't be experiencing with a man not her husband.

At first she wasn't sure what had awakened her until she realized Sin was just behind them.

He stooped and gently nudged Braden awake.

Maggie quickly closed her eyes and feigned sleep.

"Your watch, little brother," Sin whispered softly.

She felt Braden stiffen as he came awake and wondered if their position shocked him as much as it had her.

Carefully, he extracted himself from her, and to her amazement, he placed a folded plaid beneath her head to cushion it from the ground. The tenderness of the gesture touched her deeply.

The two men stood over her and she felt the stares of both. Uncomfortable with their attention, she started to say something, but for some reason she couldn't bring herself to betray the fact that she was no longer sleeping.

"I canna believe she cut her hair off," Braden whispered.

"She is definitely unusual."

"Aye. I've never met another woman like her."

"Many would call her mannish."

Braden snorted. "And I'd call them fools. There's nothing mannish about her."

Sin didn't respond, but Maggie could hear him making a pallet on the other side of the fire.

After a few minutes, someone placed another plaid over her. Maggie slit her eyes open to see Braden rising to stand in front of her pallet. He leaned over and brushed his hand gently through her hair, then pulled the plaid up to her chin.

His kindness touched her so deeply that for a moment she could barely breathe.

"Are you going to take the post or continue to coddle her, Braden?"

Braden turned to look at his brother. "She could use a little coddling, I think."

And with that Braden left her.

Once they were alone and Braden was positioned away from them, Sin spoke to her. "I know you're awake."

Maggie fluttered her eyes open to meet his black gaze over the fire. "I suppose Braden knew as well."

"Nay, he'd never have spoken so freely of you had he known."

She frowned. "Then how did you know?"

"Intuition, observation," Sin said quietly. "Things I had to cultivate to survive. Braden isn't nearly as suspicious as I am."

His words confused her. What had made him say such?

"And are you suspicious of me?"

His hard look froze her all the way to her toes. "Woman, I'm suspicious of anyone who acts altruistically. I've only known a handful of people in my entire life who were actually kind. The vast majority of people only help others when they know it'll benefit them in some manner."

Even more confused than before, she lifted her head to stare at him. "You think I want something from Braden?"

"I know you do."

"And that is?"

"You want him."

Shocked by his words, Maggie opened her mouth to argue.

"Don't deny it," he said, cutting her words off before she could even begin. "I can see it in your eyes every time you look at him."

Maggie glanced to where Braden sat on the edge of the forest and wondered if her feelings were as clear to him. Inside, she hoped Braden wasn't so astute. For if he knew how she felt, that meant he had been deliberately ignoring her feelings all these years, and that cut her all the way to her soul.

"I admit I fancy him," she said reluctantly, "but that doesn't mean I want him. A person may fancy a snake is beautiful, but only a fool would try and claim one."

Sin arched a brow at her. "So, that's it, then."

Her head began to ache from trying to figure out Sin's mind and cryptic comments. "What?"

"You're afraid of Braden."

"Aye," she admitted. "I'm not a fool. Braden isn't the type of man who would stay by a woman's side.

He'd take me, then be off frolicking with the first la.s.s who turned his head. I've no desire to be my mother, to cry alone in my bed while the man I love is out for the night with another."

Sin propped his head against his arm. "You ask for a lot in this day and age, milady. Most women accept the fact that men will forever prowl."

"I am not most women."

He smiled at her and nodded. "That you are not. Now you'd best be getting back to sleep."

Maggie closed her eyes. But what she saw in the darkness of her eyelids disturbed her greatly. She had two clear memories of her mother. One of her mother holding her tight to her chest and singing to her.

The other was of a quiet summer's night after her mother had taken ill.

Maggie had been trying to sleep that night too, but her mother's crying had awakened her. Scared of the noise, she had crept from her bed to where a hanging cloth separated her bed from her parents'. Her mother had been weeping in the arms of Maggie's aunt.

"How could he be with her while I lay dying?" her mother had cried, her voice filled with such agony that it haunted Maggie to this day. "The least he could do is wait until I'm in the ground."

"I know," her aunt had soothed. "Men will be men. You know that."

Her mother had died just a few hours later. Alone in her bed, waiting for her husband to come home to her.