“You are tired of being alone. You told me.”“You don’t know,” he said in a low, almost hostile voice. He shook his head. “I don’t even know what I’m doing with you. You’re not like anyone else who’s in my life—” He stopped abruptly. “Did you ever drink too much wine, Alice ?” He held up the glass in his hand and waggled it idly, making the ruby contents swirl.“I’m not one to overindulge.”“No, you wouldn’t be. Allow me to explain, then, that the more you drink, the more thirsty you become. Not all the wine in the world can assuage the thirst for water. Water. Wine makes you merry, but a man needs water to keep him alive. Pure, clean, sweet water. I am parched, Alice, scorched like a wasteland, burninglike a damned soul in hell. I thirst.”

“You wrong yourself and me by assuming my interest in you is purely physical,” he went on. “I told you I am eager to further our acquaintance. I want to know what you think about things. What you want out of life. What you dream.-Lucien to Alice”

“You’re not terrified of me. You’re terrified of letting yourself care for me, and I can’t say I blame you. People who love me usually end up dead. But you see, I’m not going to give you any choice. You belong to me now whether you like it or not.”“I don’t like it, not one bit!”“Try to escape,” he suggested coolly. “Go ahead. See what happens. Give me one excuse to take what I want from you, even if it is against your will. I want you that much. Too damned much.” He turned without warning and kissed her, flattening her back against the pine mast.”

“Miranda!” “What?” She batted him with her pillow. “Hoyden! Are you drunk?” “I don’t think so. I’m not sure. They never gave us wine at Yardley. I feel happy.” “Happy?” He grabbed a corner of the pillow as she whacked him again with it. “Stop it!” “You’re too serious, Winterley!” She reached for another pillow. “I will beat you until you smile!” He ducked out of his chair with a rakish grin as she swung at him, then tackled her flat on the soft bed, both of them laughing. “You are . . . impossible,” he chided with a gentle sigh as he braced his elbows on either side of her head. He traced her cheekbones with the pads of his thumbs. “Difficult, but not impossible.” She wrapped her arms around him, relishing the weight of him atop her, the smoothness of his bare chest against her bodice. “It all depends on who’s trying.” “That sounded distinctly like an invitation,” he murmured.”

“You could be a gambler. A thief, for all I know. Besides—” He captured her hand and stoppedher from walking on, holding her in place.“Besides what, you insufferable prude?”“Prude, eh? Do you need another kiss to remind you what a prude I am?”“Don’t you dare.”“Then don’t call me names.”“You started it.”

“Alice?”She spun toward the door, her skirts whirling softly. “Yes?” she forced out.“Do you know what I am holding in my hand?”“No.”“Care to guess?”“A pitchfork?” she asked in a stilted attempt at levity, hoping to invoke his earlier, playful mood.“No, my dear,” he answered drily. “A key to your room.”“What?”she breathed, aghast.“I should hate to have to use it.”“You have a key to this room?”“Mm-hmm.”She took a step toward the door, panic rising up in her throat. “You’re bluffing!”“Do you wish me to prove it?”

“You saved me again," she told him with a starstruck gaze. He cupped her cheek and gave her a tender smile in the dark. "Because you are my princess and I am your knight.”