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One side of her skirt tugged free of the leather cord. His eyes met hers, flashing triumph as he jerked her to a halt.
“Let me go!” she shouted.
“You are completely out of control.”
She wound her fingers into the fabric.
“You could be killed out here, climbing around like that.”
She tightened her grip.
“I will not allow—”
When she tugged as hard as she could, the gray wool slipped from his grasp. She felt a moment of pure victory. And then she stepped backward, right into a hill of sand that sucked her heel deep into the loose pack. She hovered for a moment, arms flailing, the sky tilting slowly into her view.
Then she was down.
And Nick pounced.
The sudden weight pushed a gasp from her throat as he settled onto her hips, his knees tight against her ribs, hands trapping her wrists against the sand.
“Get off me.”
“Why, so you can hang yourself over a bloody cliff and risk your life?”
“I was five feet off the ground.”
“Damn it, Cyn, I should tan your hide.”
Those words—those words meant for a child—goaded her hot blood into a full boil of fury. “I am not a child!” she screamed, pushing with all her might at his hands.
His fingers flexed and tightened. “You’re childish enough to do something stupidly reckless, so I’d say you’re childish enough to be turned over my knee.”
Fire fizzed through her veins. “You just try it.”
His gaze flicked to her straining arms. When he spoke again, he leaned menacingly close, his voice dropping low to stroke over her skin. “You think I wouldn’t?”
Did she? Did she think he’d dare to flip her over and raise her skirts? Would he humiliate her and beat her like a child? Cynthia growled and gave one last furious, futile yank of her arms.
Nick’s eyes narrowed. He looked at his right hand as it slowly tightened to a vise on her wrist.
“Nick…”
His gaze slid to her lips. And then his mouth descended.
For a brief moment she didn’t understand what part this played in their argument. And then her body reported to her mind what was really happening. Nick was kissing her. Just as she’d hoped. Oh, sweet mercy…
Shock loosened the iron band around her lungs, and she parted her lips to find some air. This was apparently just the right thing to do, as Nick moaned in response and slipped his tongue against hers. Wet, warm surprise shivered through her nerves and made her hum into him.
At some point he’d shifted above her, and his weight was no longer pressing just her hips and hands. Now his legs slid down to embrace her thighs. His hips pinned her. His belly lay flush against hers. As if they were making love. As if he wanted her.
His tongue thrust harder, and she arched her neck and opened to him.
She’d imagined this a thousand times and a thousand more. She’d thought Nick’s lips would brush softly, a gentle taste, a breath of love across her cheek. She’d never once considered he would kiss as if he were needy. As rough as James, even. But better than those stolen kisses with James Munro. Infinitely better.
Nick shifted his head and pushed her arms higher, his grip as tight as ever. When he planted his knee between hers, Cynthia curled her leg around his thigh to offer encouragement. With half the skirt tucked up, his trousers rubbed against her bare thigh. She jerked at the shock of it, and that brought him snug between her thighs. The clear evidence of his arousal rubbed hard against her sex.
Their simultaneous gasps filled the air around them. Nick’s gasp seemed rather tinged with alarm though, as he immediately lifted himself on his elbows and gawked down at her.
