"Climbing trees again?"
She flushed. He was treating her as if she were nine years old and deliberately embarrassing her in front of their sophisticated guest.
"Co ask Sophronia to hold dinner until you've had time to change out of that dirty frock." With a dismissive look, he turned to Veronica. "You'll have to forgive my ward. She's only recently graduated from finishing school. I'm afraid all her lessons haven't yet sunk in."
Kit's cheeks burned with mortification, and angry words bubbled inside her. Why was he doing this? He didn't care about soiled frocks and tangled hair. She knew that about him. He loved the outdoors like she did and had little patience for formality.
She fought to hold onto her temper. "I'm afraid you'll have to excuse me from dinner this evening, Mrs. Gamble. I, too, seem to have developed a headache."
"A veritable epidemic." Veronica's voice was softly mocking.
Cain's jaw set stubbornly. "We have a guest. Headache or not, I'll expect you back downstairs in ten minutes."
Kit choked on her rage. "Then I'm afraid you'll be disappointed."
"Don't try to defy me."
"Don't issue orders you can't enforce." Somehow she summoned the self-control riot to run from the room, but once she reached the hallway, she picked up her skirts and fled. As she approached the top of the stairs, she fancied she could hear the sound of Veronica Gamble's laughter coming from behind her.
But Veronica wasn't laughing. Instead, she was studying Cain with great interest and a small measure of sadness. So that was the way it was. Ah, well…
She'd hoped their relationship would move beyond friendship into intimacy. But now she saw it wasn't meant to be, at least in the foreseeable future. She should have known. He was too magnificent a man not to be difficult.
She felt a flash of pity for his ward. For all her extravagant beauty, the young woman didn't yet know her own mind, and she certainly didn't know his. Kit was much too inexperienced to understand why he'd deliberately embarrassed her. But Veronica understood. Cain was attracted to the girl, and he didn't like it. He was fighting his attraction by bringing Veronica here tonight, hoping that seeing the two women side by side would convince him he was drawn to Veronica instead of to Kit. But it wasn't to be.
Cain had won this round. The young woman had barely managed to hold onto her temper. Still, Kit Weston was nobody's fool, and Veronica had a feeling the game was far from over.
She tapped her fingernail on the upholstered arm of the settee and wondered if she should permit Cain to use her as a pawn in the struggle he was waging with himself. It was a foolish question, and it made her smile. Of course she'd permit it.
Life was dull here, and it wasn't in her nature to be jealous of another woman over something as natural as sex. Besides, it was all so deliriously amusing.
"Your ward is high-spirited," she said, just to stir the pot.
"My ward needs to learn submission." He poured a glass of sherry for her and, with an apology, excused himself.
She heard him taking the stairs two a time. The sound excited her. It reminded her of the glorious arguments she and Francis used to have, arguments they sometimes fought with deliriously angry sex. If only she could see what was about to happen in the room upstairs…
She sipped at her sherry, more than prepared to wait them out.
Cain knew he was behaving badly, but he didn't care. For weeks he'd been keeping himself away from her. As far as he could tell, he was the only single man in the community who wasn't jumping to her tune. Now it was time they had a reckoning. He was just sorry Veronica had to be subjected to Kit's rudeness.
And to his own.
But he wouldn't dwell on that. "Open this door."
Even as he rapped the panels with his knuckles, he knew he was making a mistake by coming up here after her. But if he let her defy him now, he'd lose any chance he had of keeping her under control.
He told himself this was for her own good. She was willful and stubborn, a danger to herself. Whether he liked it or not, he was her guardian, which meant he had a responsibility to guide her.
But he didn't feel like a guardian. He felt like a man who was losing a struggle with himself.
"Go away!"
He twisted the knob and let himself in.
She stood by the window, the last of the sunlight casting her exquisite face into shadow. She was a wild, beautiful creature, and she tempted him beyond bearing.
As she turned, he froze in place. She'd been unbuttoning her dress, and the sleeves had fallen down on her shoulders so he could see the soft rounds of her breasts visible above her chemise. His mouth went dry.
She didn't try to clutch the bodice together as a modest young woman should. Instead, she gave him glare for glare. "Get out of my room. You have no right to come charging in here."
He remembered Hamilton Woodward's letter accusing her of seducing his business partner. When Cain had received it, he had no reason not to believe it, but now he knew better. Kit's claim that she'd punched the bastard was undoubtedly true. If only he were as certain that she was turning aside Parsell's advances.
He tore his eyes away. "I'm not going to be disobeyed."
"Then you'd better bark out your orders to someone else."
"Watch it, Kit. I tanned that rump of yours once before, and it won't bother me to do it again."
Instead of backing away, she had the gall to take a step toward him. His hand itched, and he found himself imagining exactly how that backside would feel, bare beneath his palm. Then he imagined sliding his hand around that sweet curve-not to hurt, but to please.
"If you want to see what a knife feels like in your belly, just go ahead and try it, Yankee."
He almost laughed. He outweighed her by nearly a hundred pounds, but the little wildcat still thought she could challenge him.
"You've forgotten something," he said. "You're my ward. I make the decisions and you do as I say. Is that understood?"
"Oh, it's understood, all right, Yankee. It's understood that you're an arrogant ass! Now get out of my room."
As she jabbed her finger toward the door, the strap of her chemise fell over her opposite shoulder. The thin fabric caught at the crest of her breast, clung to that sweet peak for a moment, and then dropped, exposing the dark coral tip.
Kit saw him lower his gaze a moment before she felt the currents of cool air tickling her flesh. She looked down and drew in her breath. She snatched the front of her chemise and pulled it back up.
Cain's eyes turned from slate to pale smoke, and his voice was husky. "I liked it better the other way."
As quickly as that, the battle between them shifted to new ground.
Her fingers grew clumsy on the fabric of her chemise as he came closer. All her survival instincts urged her to run from the room, but the most she could manage was to turn away.
He came up behind her and traced the curve of her neck with his thumb. "You're so damned beautiful." he whispered. He gathered her curls into his hands and gently untangled them from the strap of her chemise.
Her skin prickled. "You shouldn't…"
"I know."
He leaned down and pushed her hair away. His breath feathered the skin at her collarbone.
"I don't-I don't want you to…"
He gently bit the soft flesh at the side of her neck. "Liar," he whispered.
She closed her eyes and let her back rest against his chest. She felt the cool, wet spot on her neck where his tongue had touched her flesh.
His hands moved up over her ribs and then, incredibly, over her breasts. Her skin turned hot and cold at once. She shuddered as he caressed her through her chemise, shuddered at how good it felt and at her insanity in submitting to such an intimacy.
"I've wanted to do this ever since you got back," he whispered.
She made a soft, helpless sound when he slipped his hands inside her dress, inside her chemise… and touched her.