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Stormy gasped. “It is you! I recognize you now. No wonder you seemed vaguely familiar, when you first strolled into my uncle’s parlor.” She wrenched out of his grasp and sat up. Her breasts heaved with agitation and she stabbed an accusing finger into his chest.

“You are the highwayman that held up our coach. There could not be another set of eyes that blue in the whole country.” She tentatively touched her lips with her fingertips. “I remember your kiss,” she breathed in stunned awe.

André rocked back on his heels, his ardor cooled instantly. Should he deny her claim?

Would she even believe him? A frown creased his forehead as he tried to think of an answer that would suit without giving away too much.

Stormy rose to her knees. “Why did you kiss me, when you kidnapped me from the coach?”

It was a question he had asked himself often enough.

He shrugged with the nonchalance of the debonair rogue. Throwing the question back at her, he asked, “Why do you think it was I, who kissed you?”

Stormy scooted out of his reach, her eyes almost black with uncertainty. He had to be the highwayman. No man had ever kissed her quite like that. Her hand stole to her belly, where a knot of longing had formed identical to the time when the highwayman had kissed her.

She searched his face, trying to find answers. Good God, she couldn’t let him know that something strange, something exquisite, something too hard to put into words, had coursed through her when his lips had touched hers. Never before in her life had she experienced anything so magical.

When he didn’t answer her, she began to question her judgment. Had she turned into a wanton? Could every man who kissed her these days turn her limbs into jelly? Oh, god, he probably thought of her as that country bumpkin he had accused her of being after their fencing match.

Ashamed, she dropped her gaze, angry that she had done nothing to stop his advances and embarrassed, because she had enjoyed his caresses.

André was still formulating a fitting answer, when the door to the bedroom opened ever so slowly and a man peeked around the corner, his expression one of shock and censure.

Stuart Sortier, his friend and confidant from college. Stuart, who’d offered without reservation to act as his manservant while André searched for the elusive solicitor and evidence of foul play.

André’s eyes narrowed and he warned him off with an imperceptible nod. He would have to find a plausible excuse to go to Stuart and see what he had to say. And by the look on his face it didn’t bode well.

He rolled to his feet with practiced ease and dragged Stormy up with him. It was a mistake, because her proximity, the subtle scent of a woman aroused, rekindled the lust he had barely been able to tamp down moments before his friend intervened. He reached for her, but at STORMY HEIDE KATROS

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the last instant he pressed a gentle kiss to her brow and settled her into the corner of the leather couch.

With the last vestiges of self control he dragged the fur robe around her shoulders.

“Before we get into a deep discussion, let me fetch you a drink of water. Better yet, I’ll make you some grog. It’s a sailor’s drink that will warm you to your bones.”

He slipped into the adjoining bedroom, cautioning his friend with a finger to his lips to be quiet. “She has no idea that you are here. I need some time to dissuade her that I am not that notorious highwayman she accuses me of being.”

Stuart’s bushy brows rose in alarm. He shoved a hand through his tousled hair. “She recognized you? Damnation, I told you it was folly to kidnap her and then have the audacity to kiss her. Some women remember every nuance of a man’s kiss, especially when under duress.”

André’s hands fisted at his sides. “And I told you that it was a spur of the moment decision I have regretted ever since. Sometimes you take our friendship too far, Stuart.” He regretted the fact that he might have compromised his identity, but he never regretted that short ride or that kiss.

Raking his hand through his hair, he avoided his friend’s gaze. “I promised her something to drink. I think I’ll mix some rum and water and heat it with the poker. She is chilled to the bone, though she doesn’t admit to it. Hopefully, the rum will put her to sleep, seeing that she hasn’t had any supper. I’ll be back as soon as I can and we’ll talk.”

“Take your time. What I have to tell you can wait. We are not going anywhere tonight.

Just make sure she is asleep and won’t come barging in on us.”

Stormy watched as André carefully placed a pewter goblet on the stone floor before the fireplace. Fascinated, she stared when he heated the poker to red hot and plunged it into the cup.

An angry hiss and a wisp of steam curled from its depth.

“What exactly are you doing, André?”

He grinned at her in a way that sent her stomach into a flurry of somersaults. “This is the primitive way to heat liquid in a hurry. And I expect you to drink it while it is hot. Rum mixed with hot water is a sure guard against your catching cold.” He wanted to mention that he was in a heap of trouble as it was, and bringing her back suffering from the ague wouldn’t endear him either.

He sat at the edge of the couch and handed her the warm goblet. “Now drink up, Stormy.” God how that name suited her. Her eyes were the color of an early morning becalmed sea right now. All the fight had gone out of her.

Stormy took an experimental sip and grinned at him. “This is rather tasty and I can feel the warmth all the way down into my belly.”

Her innocent remark conjured a vivid image of her thinly clad form before they had been so rudely interrupted.

He felt himself growing hard again, and he would have liked to have vented his frustration in a string of curses. Instead he shifted his position to hide his state.

“Drink up and I’ll stay here until you are comfortable.”

“Then

what?”

Her abrupt question took him by surprise. He cast her a rueful smile. “We’ll have to stay the night. The rain is still coming down hard and Rebel is exhausted. I can’t expect him to carry us both back to Emerald Hills. On a sunny day I could walk beside him, but right now it’s impossible. The paths are treacherous thanks to the carpet of damp pine needles. Besides, your clothes are still damp.”

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He felt like a veritable cad, when her eyelids drooped of a sudden. He held his breath.

Bloody hell, he should be ashamed to deliberately ply her with strong drink, knowing that it would have this effect on her.

Smiling sleepily up at him, Stormy handed him the empty goblet. “Will you stay here with me?”

André opened his mouth to tell her that he would sleep in the next room, if he could sleep at all. Merde, this slip of a girl unnerved him with her naive questions. He watched as she snuggled under the fur blanket and pillowed her cheek in her palm. Then with a long sigh, she closed her eyes and was fast asleep. He pulled the fur a little higher and tiptoed out of the room.

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Stuart had changed clothes and lay sprawled on the wide bed. He’d started a small fire in the grate set into the opposite wall and he held a goblet in his hand. He sat up as soon as André closed the door behind him.

“What the bloody hell is all that about?” Stuart nodded toward the other room.

André’s lip curled with self-loathing. “Well, sometimes, when you least expect it and you are totally unprepared, life throws a curve at you. To make a long story short. I was asked to show Lady Michaella the countryside, when it started pouring rain. She rode into the copse of trees to the south of here. A limb knocked her out of her saddle and her horse bolted. I was right behind her, but I could not prevent her fall. She was unconscious and her horse took off for places unknown. To make matters worse, the rain decided to come down even harder.

“So you see, I had no other choice, but to bring the lady here.” He glared at Stuart, half angry that his friend had interrupted him, when he had been so close to making love to Stormy, and partly because he had allowed his lust to get the better of him. His jaw hardened and he abruptly changed the subject. “Where have you been?”

Stuart rubbed a hand across his stubbled chin. “We’ll get to my story in a moment. I am sorry you had such a time of it. We’ll have to find a way out of this predicament. As they say, when in a fix, lie.” He cocked his head to the side. “I take it you did not compromise the lady?

Though I must admit from what little I could see, she is right comely.”

André had the grace to blush. “I am glad you showed up when you did. She is a total innocent. Spontaneous, strong-willed, and her sense of morality is so foreign from ours. Mind you, she is virtuous in her own way, just so … so unlike the ladies of my acquaintance. And maybe therein lays her allure.” He groaned and plunked down on the bed next to Stuart for lack of anywhere else to sit.

Stuart had the presence of mind not to comment. As long as he and André had been friends, he had never seen him so out of sorts.

“Since I thought you’d be staying the night at Emerald Hills, I rode Noir into Bedfordshire for some supplies. I left him at the edge of town, hidden among a copse of trees.

It’s a good thing you have trained him so well and he can act as if he were a mere nag, barely able to walk.

“The roads are crawling with constables looking for you. There are posters everywhere with a pretty good description of you and a reward of a thousand pounds.”

“Who put up the reward and how did anyone come by a description of me? I have been extremely careful in my raids. I’m still not any closer to finding my solicitor than when I first returned from Paris.”

“It’s my guess that Snowden is behind it all. The description is far too accurate than to be the work of anyone else. He wants you caught, since you are all that stands between him and Greenbriar.”

André began to pace the small confines of the room. “I can’t impose on your friendship any longer, Stuart. If I am caught and you are connected to me, we’ll both hang.”

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“We’ve been friends for a long time, André. I came along willingly. Playing your manservant isn’t such a hard job and I can infiltrate the servants’ quarters. We both know that the servants usually know more than we give them credit for and maybe somewhere someone will let something slip. I won’t desert you now.”

André held out his hand and the men shook. Biting his bottom lip, André stared deeply into his friend’s eyes. “Unfortunately, I can’t allow you to risk your life any longer. Until today it had been a dangerous game, but we managed to stay ahead of discovery. Stormy isn’t some hare- brained girl and I can’t vouch for her silence.”

“You could force her to keep quiet, if you married her.”

André’s heart did a triple flip. Marry? For God’s sake, if he were caught, he would hang. Where would that leave a wife if he had one? Besides, he didn’t want to be leg shackled to any woman, not even one as delectable as Stormy.

Stuart had risen from the bed and joined him in pacing. Waving his goblet through the air, he speculated out loud what had been going through his mind ever since he had seen André in that intimate pose before the fire.

“You realize that it’s a done deal. You won’t get around marrying her, once you bring her back to Emerald Hills. Her parents will call foul and insist that you wed her. There is no other way out, André. You could do worse.”

Both men stopped their pacing and faced each other. “You don’t know what you are saying. Stormy doesn’t even like me. I told you she is impetuous and strong-willed. I believe she might be persuaded to keep quiet, because she wouldn’t want to be wed to a man she clearly despises.”

“I think you are deluding yourself. I saw the look on your face and I could tell it reflected what the lady is feeling for you.”

“Lust and love are two different things, Stuart.”

“I agree, but lust can carry you through many a night. Once you tire of her, you can travel to Paris or you can send her back to the colonies.”

André contemplated the idea for a moment, and then began to pace again. “What if she refuses my suit and threatens to expose me? Her father doesn’t feel any particular liking for me.

In fact, I can just see him glaring at me, if I press my suit.”

“At worst, he will challenge you to a duel, and we both know you can best him in that.”

“Are you insane? What if I killed him? Do you think that will change Stormy’s mind.

Merde, she will probably put the hangman’s noose around my neck herself if that happens.”

“If she threatens to expose you, you will have to confess why you have been posing as a highwayman. She will understand your motive, if you explain how the local constable managed to usurp your family lands with the help of your solicitor. You’ve never hurt anyone and you have never robbed anyone. You simply played the robber in a quest to find your solicitor, who seems to have disappeared from the face of the earth.”

André stabbed a long finger into Stuart’s chest, his nose almost touching that of his friend’s. “Hah, that’s where you are wrong. I still can’t believe it myself, but I robbed Stormy’s father of a hefty purse. I still have it and would have liked to return it, but that is of course out of the question.”

Stuart suppressed a yawn. “Well, nothing can be accomplished by our pacing and conjecture tonight. We have to wait and see the lady’s reaction when she wakens in the morning. Let’s get some sleep ourselves. It’s late and I had a long ride to town today.”

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The men shared the big double bed, lying fully clothed as they usually did after a midnight incursion.

Stormy awoke, feeling a bit befuddled and disoriented. But she quickly remembered where she was and what the implication would be if she were found unattended by a chaperone in the same lodging with André. She rose from the couch and checked her clothing. Her riding outfit was dry enough, though badly wrinkled.