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He wasn't going anywhere until he was certain she was going to be all right. God only knew when that would be. He was anxious to get going, yet the thought of leaving her made his stomach turn. The truth was staring him in the eyes. He didn't want to go anywhere without her.

He immediately tried to block the notion. He wasn't ready to accept what part of him was insisting was inevitable. He blanched inside and might have even shuddered. No, he wasn't ready to think about anything remotely permanent.

And yet the truth persisted.

Taylor wasn't certain what had come over her husband. He was giving her that mean I'd-rather-be-hanged-than-married-to-you look she was really starting to dislike intensely, and she didn't think she would have been surprised if he'd started growling like a bear.

Her mind took a leap from that thought to another. "Are there any bears in Montana Territory?"

Where had that question come from? "Yes."

"I thought there were, but I wanted to be certain. What kind is most prevalent?"

"The black," he answered. "And the brown, I suppose."

"What about the grizzly?"

"Those too."

"They're terribly clever."

"Is that so?"

Taylor nodded. "They're known to hunt the hunter. They circle back on their stalker. They're mean spirited, too. Daniel Boone killed a good dozen before he was ten years old."

Lord, she was naive. "Is that so?"

"Every time you say, Is that so? you're really saying you don't believe a word I'm telling you. Isn't that right, Mr. Ross?"

He didn't bother to answer her. The vehicle stopped in front of the hotel. Lucas helped her out, paid the fare, then grabbed hold of her hand and dragged her through the lobby.

"I'm perfectly capable of getting to our room on my own, Mr. Ross. Do let go of me."

"You draw a crowd wherever you go," he countered, continuing to pull her along.

She snorted. "You're the popular one, not me."

He was taking the steps two at a time. Taylor was out of breath by the time they reached their floor. "Do people call you by any special name?"

"Lucas," he interrupted. "My friends call me Lucas. And so does my wife. Got that?"

They reached the door to their room. He was digging in his pocket for his key. Taylor collapsed against the wall. If she'd had a fan handy, she would have used it. She hadn't had to run like that for ages.

"It would be greatly disrespectful of me to call you Lucas, but if you insist…"

"Why?"

He'd just put the key in the lock but stopped and turned to look at her. He only then realized she was out of breath. He couldn't help but smile. A wisp of hair had fallen out of her prim bun and now curled in front of her ear. She looked utterly feminine. And thoroughly kissable.

They stood just inches away from each other. Taylor couldn't seem to take her gaze off her husband. He had the most adorable smile. His eyes seemed to turn a warm, golden brown. A lesser woman would have melted under his close scrutiny, but she was made of stronger stuff. She let out a long sigh.

"Aren't you going to answer me?" he asked.

She couldn't remember the question. He was forced to repeat it. "Wives in the wilderness call their husbands mister whatever as a way of lifting their status. The hired hands are called by their first names. It's the respectful thing to do."

He didn't look like he believed her. His question confirmed that guess.

"Says who?"

"Mrs. Livingston," she answered. "It was in her journal."

"I should have guessed."

"And while we're on the subject of what is considered proper and what isn't, I would like to point out that the majority of men, married and single, never, ever curse in front of a woman. It's considered bad form, Mr. Ross, and very disrespectful."

"Is that so?"

She was beginning to hate that expression. "Yes, it is so."

He opened the door for her, but just as she started to go inside, he grabbed hold of her shoulders and turned her around.

His head was bent toward her. "Let me get this straight. When you call me Mr. Ross, you're actually being respectful and not trying to infuriate me? Is that right?"

She nodded. He smiled. He didn't let go of her. For a man in a hurry, he was suddenly acting as though he had all the time in the world. Taylor really wished she could stop herself from staring at him. Was it her imagination or had his skin become even more bronzed in the last twenty-four hours? She wondered if he had any idea how handsome he was.

"I'll probably be late."

His right hand moved to the side of her neck. His fingers brushed the strand of hair back behind her ear. A shiver passed down her arms. She had to force herself not to lean into his hand. She couldn't stop staring into his eyes.

He was staring at her mouth. "Don't wait up for me."

"I'll probably spend the evening in Victoria's room," she said. It was a lie, of course, but since she wasn't certain how long it would take to reach Mrs. Bartlesmith's residence or how long she would spend getting acquainted with her nieces, she decided to play it safe. She didn't want Lucas looking for her. "Victoria has quite a few things she wants to discuss," she said. "I could be there until midnight, maybe even later."

He barely paid attention to what she was saying. He wanted to kiss her. He was patiently waiting for her to finish talking so he could.

She took a breath and he leaned down. The thought that he might kiss her had only just registered in her mind when she leaned into him and tilted her head back. His mouth was just an inch away.

A door slammed somewhere down the corridor. A man's laughter sounded in the next instant. Then a woman's. The spell Lucas Ross had cast upon her lifted, and she suddenly realized where she was and what she was doing. She was immediately horrified by her unladylike behavior.

She acted as though she'd just been caught stealing. She literally pushed herself away from him, bumped into the wall behind her, then turned and hurried inside. She called good-bye over her shoulder and swung the door shut.

Lucas couldn't believe what had just happened. Damned if she hadn't just slammed the door in his face. And what in thunder caused her to blush?

"Women," he muttered to himself. Most didn't make a lick of sense. He shook his head and started down the hallway. He stopped when he reached the steps.

Taylor had just collapsed in one of the chairs and let out a loud sigh when a knock sounded at the door. She assumed it was Victoria. She stood up, straightened her skirt, and then hurried across the room. She forced a smile so her friend wouldn't know she was in such an irritable mood and all because she hadn't been kissed and then opened the door.

Lucas filled up the entrance. He was leaning against the door frame, one foot crossed over the other, with his arms folded across his chest, as though he'd been lounging there a long, long time. He was frowning intently.

"Did you forget something, Mr. Ross?"

"Yeah," he drawled. Then he moved. It happened so quickly, she didn't even have time to gasp. He reached out, grabbed hold of the back of her neck with his right hand, and hauled her up against him. His fingers threaded through her hair, the pins holding it up flying every which way. The heavy mass of curls cascaded down her back, covering his arm. His fingers gently pressed against her scalp. He lowered his face until his mouth was directly above hers.

"I forgot to kiss you."

"Oh."

She whispered the word into his opened mouth. It sounded like a groan. His mouth settled on top of hers with blatant ownership, effectively sealing off any other sound she might have made. He kissed her ravenously. Taylor grabbed hold of his jacket so she wouldn't fall down. And when his tongue swept inside her mouth and rubbed so erotically against hers, she felt as though she were dissolving in his arms. Her knees went weak and her heart started pounding a wild beat. She felt hot and yet was shivering at the same time. Her arms found their way around his waist. She held onto Lucas and let him sweep her off her feet. She didn't even try to control her own passionate response. She wouldn't let him stop. She wanted another hot, opened-mouth, tongue-dueling kiss, and Lucas, shaken by her uninhibited reaction to his touch, didn't deny her. They were both just as hungry for each other. She made it impossible for him to hold back. His mouth slanted over hers again and again, and each time the kiss was longer, more sinfully erotic. He was hard and hot. And still he wanted more. His hands moved down her spine, rubbing, caressing. He cupped her sweet backside and lifted her up on her tiptoes until they were intimately rubbing against each other. She instinctively cuddled his arousal between her hips. She moved restlessly against him.