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She nodded, and, ignoring the pain in one ankle, took a couple of limping steps back along the road. He stopped her there and made her sit on the

garden wal while he examined her foot.

‘I don’t think it’s broken,’ he stated as he touched the already swel ing ankle, ‘but you’ve definitely sprained it... I’l have to carry you.’

Riona shook her head. ‘It’s al right. I’l try to walk.’

‘You can’t,’ he told her simply, and, catching her chin in his hands, raised her face to his. ‘You don’t have to be scared of me. I won’t hurt you. I’l never hurt you.’

His eyes made it a promise that reached the heart of her, and, in that moment, she gave him her trust—and, only half realising it, her love.

When he picked her up in his arms, she turned her head in his shoulder and once more wept. He carried her back along the way they’d come and

Riona didn’t question where they were going until they approached the hotel. Then she shook her head, and, pressing herself away from him, forced him to set her down.

‘We can cal a doctor from here,’ he explained, ‘and the police.’

Riona shook her head al the harder. ‘No police,’ she refused point-blank.

‘You have to report him, Riona,’ he insisted gently. ‘You know what would have happened, if I hadn’t fol owed you.’

Riona shuddered. She knew wel enough. She just didn’t want to relive it.

‘You fol owed me?’ she repeated, at last questioning how he came to be there.

‘I decided to have dinner in town,’ he relayed. ‘Afterwards, I went for a drink in the cocktail bar, and who should I find as resident piano player? I assumed you weren’t very pleased to be discovered when you didn’t acknowledge my peace offering, so I—’

‘Peace offering?’

‘The champagne I sent over.’

‘Oh, it was you. I thought...’ Riona trailed off as she realised how she’d misunderstood.

‘You thought it came from that guy,’ Cameron concluded for her, and a hardness crept into his voice as he asked, ‘Is that why you let him walk you

home?’

Riona shook her head. ‘I didn’t let him. He just appeared.’

His brows col ected in a frown. ‘You didn’t know him?’

Riona shook her head again.

‘And you normal y walk home on your own?’ he added in disbelief.

This time Riona didn’t answer, but her silence said it al .

‘You are the craziest girl,’ he sighed in exasperation. ‘When I saw you walking off with the guy, I thought you must have agreed a meeting. I only

fol owed because ... wel , never mind why. Just think what might have happened, if I hadn’t,’ he continued angrily.

Riona bowed her head. She had no defence. She’d acted stupidly.

Her misery was patent and his temper switched to her attacker. ‘Stil , you’re safe now, and I’l make sure that bastard’s going to be sorry he laid a finger on you. I reckon the police should find him pretty easily—’

‘No, please,’ Riona cut in, distressed, ‘I don’t want to go to the police. I don’t want to go back to the hotel. I just want to go home.’

‘To Invergair?’ he guessed she meant, and, as the tears once more slipped down her face, he gave way. ‘Al right, I’l get you home. We can

telephone the police tomorrow,’ he murmured, and, lifting her in his arms again, walked round the hotel to the car park.

The car was warm and dark, and Riona sank back against the plush upholstery in exhaustion. He did not attempt any further conversation, and she

was grateful. She just wanted to forget the whole incident. Though she’d done nothing wrong, she was the one left with a feeling of shame.

He drove quickly, and they arrived at her crofthouse in little more than an hour. She would have had him leave her at the front door, but he ignored her protests and carried her inside and upstairs.

He deposited her on the side of her bed, and she winced slightly as he jarred her ankle. ‘I’l get the doctor.’

‘Don’t be sil y!’ she retorted with some of her usual spirit. ‘It’s two in the morning. You can’t get the doctor out for a simple sprain.’

‘I’m not sure it’s that simple.’ He knelt down to examine her swol en ankle.

She winced again. ‘Wel , your prodding it isn’t doing much,’ she muttered back, before realising how ungrateful it sounded.

He slanted her a dry look. ‘You haven’t lost any of your feistiness, at any rate.’

Feistiness? Riona wasn’t sure what the word meant, but it didn’t sound too complimentary, and she scowled a little.

He continued, impervious, ‘Not that I particularly want you to. I’m kind of getting used to it... But a little common sense wouldn’t go amiss, either.’

The last was said in a more serious vein, as he raised his eyes to her tear-stained face.

Riona understood what he meant, and, although she looked away, she admitted rather ashamedly, ‘I know. It was my fault. I should have taken a taxi

instead of walking. I just didn’t realise that sort of thing happened in Inverness.’

‘It happens everywhere, Riona,’ Cameron warned her. ‘But it’s
not
your fault. You’re too innocent, that’s al ,’ he said, brushing a strand of hair from her face.

It was a tender gesture, yet it wasn’t tenderness Riona felt in return. Nor was it fear, although she drew back from him as if it were.

A pained frown creased his brow. ‘You mustn’t let this affect you, Riona. Right now, you feel revulsion at the touch of a man, and that’s to be

expected. But what happened tonight has nothing to do with sexual love, believe me,’ he told her quietly. ‘One day, when you meet a boy—’

‘No!’ Riona cut in, before he could say more. He didn’t understand. ‘I’m not... it’s not how you think... Once I...’ She tried to confess the truth to him.

‘Hush. Don’t talk any more.’ He caught her hand and squeezed it. ‘You need to rest. I’l go get a cold compress for your ankle, while you change

for bed. Al right?’

She nodded, too tired to argue. He went out of the room, and she slipped off her coat and the now soiled dress, and put on the old shirt she usual y slept in. It had been one of her grandfather’s, handed down to her when she’d grown out of her childhood nightgowns. Being the sort with long tails and a high col ar, it covered her respectably.

Cameron Adams eventual y reappeared, carrying a couple of wet cloths. ‘You don’t have a refrigerator,’ he commented with some disbelief, ‘so I

couldn’t make up an ice pack.’

‘We’ve never needed one.’ She shrugged, then winced a little as he wrapped a cloth round her ankle. In a moment or two, however, some of the

throbbing heat went out of the swel ing.

He switched cloths when the first lost its cooling effect, and went through to the bathroom to re-soak it in cold water. He acted with the

impersonality of a doctor, and Riona soon got over any embarrassment. He repeated this routine several times until he noticed she was actual y nodding off to sleep on him, then he pul ed back the bedclothes and helped her into bed, tucking the sheets round her.

Riona felt no fear at his presence, just a gratitude for what he had done for her. She was too tired to express it, but she smiled at him in acceptance as he sat on the chair by the bed and watched over her until she drifted off to sleep.

She woke in the night, screaming. What she’d refused to relive awake had come back in dreams. Only this time there was no one to save her; this

time she had to suffer the stench of the man’s sweating body, the vileness of his breath, the weight of him crushing her to the ground.

She screamed and screamed, but no one came and he held on to her, and she struck out with her hands until he shouted back at her, ‘Riona, wake

up! Riona, it’s me. You’re al right. You’re al right. Wake up.’

His hands framed her face, forcing her head up, forcing her to look at him, to see not her attacker but her saviour, and her screams died away. She went stil for a moment, then sobbed in relief as his arms came round her to keep her safe.

He held her to him as he would a child, stroking her hair, crooning to her, ‘Hush, hush. It’s just a dream. Only a dream. Go back to sleep.’

Freed from her nightmare, in time Riona did just that. She fel asleep in his arms. She fel asleep, feeling warm and safe and loved.

At dawn she woke with the same feeling. As the first rays of sun filtered through the thin curtains, she woke to find his body next to hers, her arm across his bare chest, her head turned into his shoulder. He was naked except for undershorts, but she felt no panic. In that first moment it seemed as natural as breathing to be lying with him like that. Only when her mind took over, whispering immoralities and impossibilities, did she try to draw away.

He did not wake, but his arms automatical y drew her back, a hand slipping down to her hips, curving her body to his. The breath caught in Riona’s

throat. She stil wore her nightshirt, but she felt the heat of him through it. She moaned a little in protest, but it was the softest of sounds, and became part of his dreams, as he groaned in response, and, rol ing over, pressed her back against the mattress.

‘Cameron.’ She said his name in breathless appeal, the second before his mouth came down on hers.

With his body covering hers, trapping her against the bed, Riona might have believed herself back in the nightmare of her attack, yet she didn’t. She didn’t even think of it. For this was a world away from last night, with no brutality in his kiss, no wish to hurt or humiliate in the hands that caressed her.

He kissed her softly at first, passion stil dormant, and for a moment Riona lay there, passive. Then his lips began to move on hers, seeking, tasting, needing more, until she felt desire begin to flow like a river through her veins. Her lips parted for him, and he made some sound of satisfaction before thrusting into the warm, sweet recesses of her mouth with an intimacy that shocked her senses.

Whether it was pain or pleasure he offered, Riona wasn’t sure, but she seemed incapable of resistance. When he final y took his mouth from hers,

breathing hard, he whispered her name, and she knew he was no longer dreaming. She did not ask for release. When he rol ed back on his side and caught her eyes with his, she simply stared back at him in acceptance.

He reached out a hand to cup her cheek, and, frowning a little, said, ‘I think I may be in love with you, Riona Macleod.’

The admission was a reluctant one and Riona neither believed nor disbelieved. It didn’t seem to matter. For she was certain of one thing. Against the odds, against al sense and reason,
she
loved
him.
And that was what kept her there, lying beside him, waiting, wanting.

Her face reflected her feelings, as his hand slowly trailed downwards to trace the curve of her neck and shoulder, before stopping at her nightshirt.

He unbuttoned the front without hurry. He barely touched her, giving her al the time in the world to protest, to pul away. He made it clear he would never force her. If she was caught, it was by her own compulsion.

She quivered a little as the sides of the shirt parted, but she did not try to hide herself. His hand fel away, and it was his eyes that touched the bareness of her flesh and grew opaque with desire at the sight of her breasts, soft and ful , rose-tipped, whol y feminine as they pushed out from the masculine shirt. Then he lifted his hand again, to draw away the shirt, easing it down one arm until her upper body was almost naked. Once more he stared at her, needing no words to tel her he found her beautiful, and Riona realised, as his eyes lost focus, that he was already making love to her in his mind. It scared her, the way he looked at her, the strength of his desire coming in waves, yet she lay there, unmoving, powerless, wanting to be dragged under.

He reached for her, unbearably slow, unbelievably gentle, his hand fol owing the curve of her waist, seeking softer, ful er flesh. When he touched her breast, it was the lightest of caresses, his fingers barely brushing against her skin before spreading upwards to her col ar-bone, but it sent a spasm of desire through her. She longed for—and feared—his next move, and felt almost cheated when, instead of touching her breast again, he ran his hand down her arm, from shoulder to thigh. She didn’t realise his intention until his head bent towards her.

She cried out. She couldn’t help it. He took her breast in his mouth, and circled the hard peak of it with his tongue, and sent her senses reeling so far that she cried out.

Her response was al Cameron might have wanted and more, as he pushed her back down on the bed, and, stripping off her nightshirt, began to

satisfy his own needs. Rough and sensual, he played and bit and sucked at her yielding flesh with his mouth, pleasuring her until the soft, sweet moans of her desire threatened his own control.

When he lifted his head away, it was to look down at her, hair already matted with sweat, lips parted, her eyes wide and staring. The girl had become a woman so desirable he could have taken her then and there and not worried about the consequences. But stil her vulnerability caught at him, reminded him of the fifteen years and the whole different world that lay between them.

‘Riona.’ He threaded his hand through her hair and forced her to look at him. ‘I need to hear you say it. Say you want me.’

‘Want you?’ She echoed the words without meaning.

‘Or tel me to stop,’ he said, his voice harshening. ‘Only do it now, not later!’

‘I...’ Riona shook her head, confused by the change in him.

She didn’t understand what he was real y asking, didn’t understand it was her inexperience that made him curse, ‘Goddammit,’ even as he pushed

her back down on the bed and fastened his mouth to hers.

He kissed her as if he wanted to punish her for something, and Riona moaned in protest. But, when he made to draw away, to leave her, she clung to

him, and without words, told him how much she wanted him. He gave a groan of satisfaction as his mouth left hers to trail across her cheek, biting gently on her ear, moving downwards to the softness of her throat, seeking to excite once more in slow, tormenting ways.