She fought him with her hands but Bradford wasn't deterred. His mouth continued the gentle torment with burning insistence. He reached her breast and didn't hesitate, taking the erect nipple completely into his mouth.

Caroline again moved her hips against him but the reaction was a sensual, primitive motion she was hardly aware of. She sighed in surrender and arched her back for more.

His mouth continued to worship one breast as his hand caressed the other. "Bradford!" Caroline whispered, so lost in the erotic feelings he was causing that she could barely speak at all.

Her nightgown was around her knees and Bradford pushed it farther up as he stroked the sensitive skin. When his hand slid between her legs, Caroline instinctively tried to block his advance. Bradford used his knee to force her legs apart and silenced her protests with another passionate kiss.

His fingers found her then and Caroline thought she would die from the pleasure he forced on her. His breathing was harsh with desire. "I'll never get you out of my blood, Caroline. I can feel you tremble, love." He kissed her again while his fingers stroked the moist softness that beckoned him.

He sought only to give her pleasure, to show her a portion of the excitement and passion they would share together, and knew he had to stop. He was losing his control.

Bradford groaned and rolled over onto his back. He clasped his hands behind his head and took several deep breaths and tried to think of something other than the warm body next to him. "We will be married this Saturday." His voice was harsh but he couldn't control it. He was angry, but only with himself.

Caroline felt like she had just been thrown into a snowbank. She only wanted to wrap her arms around Bradford and beg him to continue his lovemaking.

She knew she had to remove herself from the temptation and quickly scooted off the bed. Her legs were trembling and she had to hold on to the poster. "I don't understand how you are able to do this to me," she admitted. Her voice sounded weak. Bradford watched her, saw the confusion in her gaze, and smiled.

"Your passion matches mine," he told her. His voice was soft and gruff. "And you aren't sophisticated enough to control it or use it against me."

"Like your other women?" Caroline's voice was deceptively calm. Bradford wasn't fooled by it, saw the fire in her eyes. She was thinking about killing him again, he surmised with a sigh. He sat up just in time to catch the boots Caroline threw at him, and tried once more to placate her, thinking to himself that the damnedest things upset her.

"I haven't had any other women," Bradford stated. He meant to continue, to tell her he hadn't touched any other female since their fateful encounter on the isolated country road. But Caroline turned her back on him while she put on her robe.

"The letter, please," he asked again.

She walked over to her wardrobe and took the letter from its hiding place. Then she slowly walked back over to Bradford and handed it to him.

There was a knock on the door. Caroline's eyes widened. "Get off my bed," she whispered a little frantically. She brushed her hair back from her face and hurried over to the door, her trembling fingers giving her trouble with the lock. She finally managed to open the door to find the Earl of Braxton, dressed in his nightshirt, robe, and slippers, standing there with a bewildered look on his face.

"Oh, Papa, did we wake you?" Caroline's voice shook and she thought she was going to faint from embarrassment. She turned and found Bradford right behind her. Both his boots and his jacket were back in place and Caroline said a prayer of thanksgiving for that.

"Good evening," Bradford said to her father. His expression was bland, and Caroline realized he wasn't at all concerned over being found in her bedroom. The man must certainly be used to this sort of thing, she thought with building fury.

"Good evening?" Caroline echoed with disbelief. "Bradford, is that all you can say?" She gave him a fierce look and then turned back to her father. "Papa, it isn't at all what it appears. You see, I wouldn't go downstairs and he"-she paused to give Bradford a quick glare-"was so stubbornly insistent that-"

Bradford interrupted her comments by taking hold of her and dragging her to his side. "I will handle this," he remarked in an arrogant tone. Caroline looked up at him and then back to her father. Poor Papa! His expression had gone from bewildered to furious and was now decidedly confused again.

"I would appreciate a few minutes of your time, Braxton, if it isn't an inconvenience at this late hour."

The earl gave a curt nod. "Give me a minute to dress," he stated. "I'll meet you downstairs directly."

"That would be fine, sir," Bradford said when Caroline's father continued to stand there. He waited, applying gentle pressure on Caroline's shoulder, a subtle hint for her to keep silent. The earl started down the hall and Bradford closed the door.

Caroline was so upset over her father's reaction, his look of disappointment, that she only wanted to cry. "Bradford!" She sounded like a screeching hen.

"What the hell have you done to your hair?" Bradford took Caroline into his arms and kissed her.

"Oh, no you don't," Caroline said as she pushed against his chest. "You're getting me off balance again and I won't have it. We still haven't settled anything! I haven't told you how despicable you are. We are completely unsuited to each other. You are-"

He kissed her again and her puny struggles didn't deter him at all. Only when her struggles ceased did he soften his mouth, his hold on her. "Caroline, you look terrible. Haven't you been sleeping? Get into bed now, you need your rest."

"Not on your life," Caroline replied. He had her firmly anchored against his chest and she was speaking into his jacket. "I'm going downstairs with you. God only knows what you'll say to placate my father. I have to be there to defend myself."

Bradford's answer to her demand was to pick her up and carry her to the bed. He dropped her in the center and pushed her down on the pillows. "I'll take care of everything," he said in a soothing voice. There was a sparkle in his eyes when he added, "Trust me."

He kissed her again, a quick brotherly peck on the side of her cheek, and then walked over to the door.

"Bradford, this isn't finished," Caroline called after him.

Bradford opened the door. His back was to her but she could hear the smile in his voice. "I know, my sweet. It's about time you understood that."

Caroline was off the bed and running before Bradford had the door closed. "You won't tell him about the letter, will you? He'll send me back to Boston if you do. I won't have him worried," Caroline stated emphatically.

Bradford shook his head and let his exasperation show. He started down the hall when Caroline had a sudden, horrible thought. She grabbed Bradford by the edge of his jacket. "If he demands a duel, don't you dare agree."

Bradford didn't answer her. He continued walking, with Caroline trailing behind. "And just what am I supposed to do?" she asked. She realized she was still pulling on his coattail and immediately let go. The man was making her act like an imbecil.

She simply had to get hold of herself, she thought, even as she heard herself repeat her question. "Well, what am I to do?" She was referring to the letter and her father's wrath but couldn't form the explanation in her brain to tell him so.

Bradford was taking the steps two at a time while Caroline watched him, clutching the top of the banister rail. "You might try growing your hair before Saturday," Bradford called over his shoulder.

All the bluster went out of Caroline with Bradford's ludicrous remark. She sat down on the top step and put her head in her hands. What in God's name was happening to her? She needed to be in control, she told herself. She needed order in her life. She would straighten this mess out, she told herself as she made her way back to her room.