Well, she'd picked the worst possible person, she decided as she fumbled for the key on the peg behind the counter, and locked the money he had paid her in the metal box in the drawer. And he was obviously not at all interested in exchanging even the most basic pleasantries with her, she thought as she led the way up the narrow, uncarpeted stairs.

"There's wood in the box. I hope you'll be comfortable," she said primly as she fitted the key in the lock and pushed open the door.

He started past her, and Maura tried to ease out of the way of his large frame and that thick bedroll. But the liquor must have affected him, for he staggered and fell against her. She was knocked forward into the room, but he grabbed her shoulders just in time to keep her from tumbling to the floor. Strong hands held her steady.

At his touch, a blaze of heated sensations ran through her. It was so startlingly intense, Maura cried out.

He was watching her, his head bent toward her in concern. "Are you hurt?"

"No... no. I'm fine."

But she didn't feel fine. Something was happening to her. Something she couldn't explain. Warmth and weakness swam up from her knees. It radiated across her belly, then spread upward, enveloping her breasts in a searing heat. Then her hands began to shake.

Every nerve in her body was on fire.

This had never happened to her before.

It's the first time you've ever been this close to a man, she told herself dizzily. That's all.

Especially to a man like this one.

She noticed his eyes were still fastened upon her, studying her. The icy glint was gone. There was a flicker of warmth in his expression now, and suddenly his hands slid to her waist.

Their grip tightened and he stared down into her eyes.

For a moment, there was silence except for the wind roaring at the window. A deep, electric silence that sliced through the numbing cold of the night.

Then the stranger's hand lifted and he brushed a knuckle across her cheek.

"Sorry about that, angel."

She swallowed. "My name is Maura," she whispered. "Pretty."

He touched her hair then, wrapping one of her auburn curls around his finger.

Maura Reed, you'd better get out of here right now, she told herself, fighting panic. Before this gunfighter gets any ideas....

But as she started to pull away, the hand still at her waist drew her against him.

"Don't go."

She stiffened.

"Stay with me, Maura."

"Wh-why?" she croaked out.

He smiled then. A slow, easy half-drunk smile that transformed his hard masculine features, softening them ever so slightly into vibrant warmth and making Maura's heart flip like a pancake on a hot griddle.

"Why?" he repeated, releasing her hair and slipping his hand around her nape with expert, practiced ease. "Honey—why not?"

She could think of a hundred reasons why not, but only managed to gasp out one. "I... have work to do. Chores. Cleaning up the k-kitchen."

"Now that sure doesn't sound like much fun."

"Life," Maura murmured, echoing what Ma Duncan had repeated many a time, "is not supposed to be fun."

The arm around her waist tightened. "Who says?"

She stared at him as her heart began to race. He was confusing her. Unsettling her. Affecting her in a way she'd never been affected before.

Heavens, why was she still here at all? If she didn't leave soon, and make it very plain that she meant what she said, he might get the wrong idea and then she'd be in real trouble....

"If you'll excuse me, I'm sure you're ready to go to bed—"

"You got that right."

Hot color rushed into her cheeks and he grinned, pulling her even closer against him.

"Hell, Maura, you're even prettier when you blush."

"I'm not blushing... and I'm not pretty." She flushed deeper then, feeling the heat scorch her cheeks. "I think you'd best let me go right now!"

"Not pretty?" His eyes gleamed into hers, and she saw a flicker of surprise in their silver depths. She noticed with a rush of panic that instead of letting her go, he was now holding her tighter and closer than ever. The sensation left her feeling breathless. And warm. Some of the biting night cold ebbed as the strength and heat of him seemed to envelop her.

"Of course you're pretty." His voice was low and rough in the dimness of the room. "Didn't anyone ever tell you?"