She placed her hand on the stall to steady herself. White-hot desire shot through her as she imagined running her hand down his spine and feeling those tight muscles rippling beneath her palms. Touching those toned legs that were shadowed by short dark hairs.

Her b.r.e.a.s.t.s tightened as heat and longing swept through her.

Turn around, she begged silently, craving a look at the whole of him.

If his front looked half as good as his rear...

Braden turned his head and caught her staring at him. Maggie gasped in panic as his gaze held hers enthralled.

Instead of being embarra.s.sed by his state of undress, Braden gave her a slow, wicked smile.

Maggie's face burst into flames and she quickly ducked back behind the stall. Oh, dear heaven, he had caught her!

She covered her face with her hands and wished she could vanish into the very floor.

Oh, good Lord, oh, good Lord!

"Did you need something?" Braden's taunting voice haunted her.

"I need a shirt," she called out, wishing that's what she'd done the first time. Why, oh, why had she stuck her head over the stall?

A few seconds later, Braden brought her one.

The roguish grin on his face horrified her. "Is there anything else you be needing?" he asked her.

Averting her gaze, Maggie shook her head. She would never be able to look him in the face again. " 'Tis all I require."

"You're sure about that?"

"Quite."

"If you're sure, then... I mean, I could-"

"I'm fine," she snapped, cutting him off. Then she made the mistake of looking up again.

The light, teasing look in his eyes took her breath away. The scoundrel was toying with her.

"You scurrilous knave," she said, but in spite of her best efforts, her own smile broke through.

"Scurrilous?" he asked playfully.

And as he ran his gaze over her body, she became all too keenly aware of the fact that she wore nothing save a thin red and black plaid draped over her shoulders. Good heavens, she was practically naked and he was right in front of her!

Fl.u.s.tered, she shifted. "Might I have a moment to dress?" she asked.

He c.o.c.ked a brow at her. "I don't know about that. I rather enjoy the sight of you there."

She held the shirt up to cover her bare shoulder.

He laughed at her feeble attempt to cover herself. "Get dressed," he said, then turned his back to her.

Breathing a sigh of relief, Maggie quickly dressed, then left the stall.

Without a word or glance, Sin walked past her and climbed up to the stable's loft.

"What's he doing?" she asked Braden as she rejoined him.

"I'm leaving the two of you alone," Sin's m.u.f.fled voice answered from above.

Braden tilted his head up to stare at the wooden beams above their heads. "Like it would matter, since we know you can hear everything we say?"

"Aye, well, I'm a pervert, not a voyeur."

Braden laughed. However, Maggie wasn't overly amused by Sin's blase words.

She hung her wet plaid and shirt up on the stall door where the cows were.

Braden moved to stand behind her, so close that she could feel him. She turned to find him holding another plaid. His eyes dark and beguiling, he used it to dry her hair.

Maggie couldn't move as she felt his strong hands rub the cloth against her head in a sensual rhythm that stole her breath. Chills spread through her as she remembered the sight of his naked back.

At that moment, she wanted to kiss him. More so than ever before.

Until he spoke. "Now tell me why you were outside."

Her eyes flew open as his hands ceased drying her hair.

Unwilling to let him know she had suspected him of such knavery, she averted her gaze to the floor.

"Nothing."

"Nothing?" he repeated in disbelief. "What, you just felt like taking a stroll during a torrential downpour?"

He dipped his head until he caught her gaze. "You went to spy on me, didn't you?"

How did he know?

Och, but the man picked a fine time to start being intuitive!

"What makes you think that?" she asked evasively.

"Instinct." A strange emotion darkened his eyes. One she couldn't fathom, but it looked surprisingly like guilt. "Did you think to find me with Tara?"

Her cheeks grew warm. She felt so foolish that she had ever doubted him. But she could see she wasn't going to get away without telling him exactly why she had gone outside in the rain.

Sighing, she nodded. "Well, you did intimate earlier today that you were interested in her."

"How? By talking to her?"

"Nay, byflirting with her."

He looked aghast. "Flirting?"

"Aye," she said defensively. After all, she had made the a.s.sumption based on his actions. "The way you look at a woman like she's the only thing in the world to you, like you see no other."

"Really?" he asked, his voice caught between pride and disbelief.

"Aye."

"You think this is something I always do?"

Maggie stiffened. "I know it is. Why do you think women are so mad for you?"

"My dashing good looks, of course."

Oh, the man was arrogant, and she couldn't believe she was catering to that ego of his. She should stop, and yet, for some reason, she couldn't. "Your brothers all have that, and yet they have never been as pursued as you."

"I always a.s.sumed it was because I was charming while they are all sour."

"What you call charming is flirting. And it is irresistible."

He laughed so hard, he choked.

"What?" Maggie asked, wondering what had struck him as so amusing.

He sobered to a degree. "I'm thinking you've always managed to resist it."

"That's because you've never used it with me. To you, I might as well be a stump."

He truly looked stricken by her words. A deep frown furrowed his brows. "I beg your pardon?"

"It's true," she said, her throat tight as she spilled out her observations to him. "You look at other women like you can already feel them in your arms, but when it comes to me, you look right past me.

'Tis an awful habit that has always hurt my feelings."

"Is that why you bit me when you were eleven?"

Shut up, Maggie.

But she didn't listen. Before she could stop herself or think better of it, the truth came spilling out. "Aye.

All I ever wanted was for you to seeme ."

She saw him pause and reflect on her words. When he looked back at her, his gaze was probing.

Disturbing. "Perhaps I have misjudged you, but I wonder if you're not as guilty of that as I am."

"What do you mean?"

"Have you everreally looked at me and seen me? Or have you been as the others and all you've ever really seen are my looks? Because I guarantee it wasn't my personality you were ogling a minute ago, but rather my posterior."

Maggie opened her mouth in shock, then closed it hurriedly. Indignation ripped through her. How dare he accuse her of something so cra.s.s? She wasn't one of those shallow maids, to have her head turned by simple handsomeness. "That's absurd!"

"Is it? If you know me so well, then tell me my favorite color."

"Green," she answered without hesitation. "Dark green. The same color as your mother's eyes. The same dark green you have in most of the plaids you choose to wear."

By the look on his face, she could tell her answer took him completely by surprise. He couldn't believe she knew that about him.

But that wasn't all she knew. And before she could stop herself, she rattled off more things she knew about him. "Your favorite foods are roasted venison with stewed cabbage and elderberry tarts. You drink dark ale around other men, but in truth, you prefer mulled wine. When you're at home, you always have a cup of warm milk sprinkled with cinnamon before you go to bed. Your favorite tale is Dierdre of the Sorrows, and though you'd never admit it and you try to look disinterested when they play, you like to hear bards sing."

He looked completely baffled by her admission. "How do you know all that?"

"Because, I've loved you all my life."

Chapter 13.

Braden didn't know which of them was more stunned by her confession. As soon as the words were out of her mouth, Maggie looked terrified.

He feltterrified.

Indeed, he couldn't move, couldn't breathe, as he stared at her while her words tore through him.

Eternity seemed to pa.s.s as they stood just a foot apart with her words hanging like a pall between them.

"Nay," he said at last. "You can't love me."

"Why not?" she asked, her voice filled with the same pain he saw reflected in her amber eyes.

"Because you can't."

Before she could move, he turned about and left the stable in search of a way to cope with the news she had given him.

But all he could focus on was the raw agony tearing through his soul. He didn't want her to love him. He didn't want any woman to love him, at least not for any longer than an hour or two.

Dear saints, how had this happened?

And why?

Braden paused at the edge of the stable and leaned back against the faded wood as he covered his eyes with his hand. The rain wasn't quite as bad as it had been earlier, but it still soaked him as he sought someplace safe from her clutches.

Over and over, her words echoed in his mind. She loved him. Loved him and knew things about him that he didn't think any woman had ever known. Not even his mother.