Escape from Cabriz

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His tongue caressed, then parted her lips and boldly explored. Heat surged through her, and her clothes might have been aflame, she was so warm. Her hands ached to tear them off.

He lifted her, without breaking the kiss, and her legs automatically wrapped around his hips, clutching him tightly. This, too, was a part of the familiar pattern between them, one that could have stretched back over other lifetimes besides this one. She could feel the hard promise of his masculinity at the crux of her thighs.

Kristin was trembling when, without warning, Zachary tore his mouth from hers and set her roughly on her feet.

For a moment she was too dazed to react. She just stood there, bewildered, using all her energy to keep from swaying to one side. And when she did manage to speak, all that came out was one word. “Why—?”

He turned away. “I’ll take care of the horses,” he said, and then he caught hold of both sets of reins and strode off through a copse of trees, leaving Kristin to stare after him in confusion and hurt.

Automatically, her hands rose to her tangled hair. She probably looked a fright, but that didn’t explain why Zachary had rebuffed her. She’d felt his passion, burning hot enough to fuse with her own.

Not quite bold enough to brave the hut alone—it looked like the kind of place that would be filled with rats and spiders—Kristin busied herself with her pack instead. Searching through it she found, to her enormous relief, a sturdy comb, the promised soap and another set of clothes, besides packaged food, matches, her sleeping bag and a few first aid supplies.

By the time Zachary returned with the horses, she’d brought her wounded pride under control. She even managed to smile at him as though nothing had happened.

“I guess we’re going inside now,” she said cheerfully after he’d unsaddled the horses and tied them to separate stakes driven into the ground.

Zachary brushed off his hat and scratched his forehead. His rich brown hair was rumpled and damp with sweat; he needed a bath as badly as Kristin did. “You might have started the fire.”