"What are you doing out here?"

Madelyne let out a gasp. Duncan had frightened the breath right out of her, appearing out of nowhere to stand next to her.

She tried to turn her back on him. Duncan wouldn't let her. He took hold of her chin and forced her to look up at him.

He'd have to be blind not to notice she'd been crying. Madelyne thought to give him a curt excuse, but the moment he touched her, she started weeping again.

Duncan pulled her into his arms. He seemed content to hold her until she gained control of herself. He'd obviously just finished his swim, as he was dripping from head to waist. Madelyne wasn't helping him dry either, she was crying and gasping and hiccuping all over the soft mat of hair covering his chest.

"You're going to freeze to death walking around half naked," she told him between sobs. "And I'll not warm your feet this time."

If Duncan answered her, she didn't hear him. Her face was pressed against his shoulder. She was stroking his chest too. Duncan thought she didn't even realize what she was doing, or understand the effect she was having on him.

Madelyne suddenly tried to push away from Duncan. She bumped his chin, muttered an apology, and then made the mistake of looking up at him. His mouth was entirely too close. She couldn't quit staring at it, remembering all too clearly the way he'd felt when she'd blatantly kissed him that night in the tent.

She wanted to kiss him again.

Duncan must have read her intentions, for he slowly lowered his mouth to hers.

He meant only to give her a gentle kiss. Aye, he meant to comfort her, but Madelyne's arms went around his neck and her mouth immediately opened to him. His tongue took advantage, mating with hers.

God, she was good. She could make him so hot so quickly. She wouldn't let him be gentle either. The sound she made, way in the back of her throat, pushed all thoughts of comfort aside.

He felt her shiver and only then remembered where they were. Reluctantly he pulled away from Madelyne, though he fully expected an argument from her. He'd have to kiss her again, he decided, and then went ahead and did just that before his soft, sensual woman even had the chance to ask.

Duncan was making her burn. She didn't think she had the strength to stop, until his hand brushed the side of her breast. It felt wonderful, and when she realized how much more she wanted, she pulled away from him.

"You'd best get inside before you turn to a block of ice," Madelyne said. Her voice sounded ragged.

Duncan sighed. Madelyne was at it again, trying to order him around. He picked her up into his arms, ignoring her protests, and started to walk toward the castle. "Did Adela speak to you about what happened to her?" Duncan asked when his mind could focus again.

"She did," Madelyne answered. "But I'll not retell a single word, no matter how insistent you become. You can torture me if you've a wish to, yet I'll-"

"Madelyne." His long-drawn-out sigh stopped her.

"I promised Adela I wouldn't say anything to anyone, especially you. Your sister is afraid of you, Duncan. 'Tis a sorry state of affairs, that," she added.

She thought her announcement would anger Duncan and was surprised when he nodded. "It's the way it should be," Duncan said, shrugging. "I'm lord as well as brother and the first must take preference over the second."

"It isn't the way it should be," Madelyne argued. "A family should be close. They should eat all their meals together and never fight with each other. They should-"

"How the hell would you know what a family should or shouldn't do? You've lived with your uncle," Duncan said, shaking his head in exasperation.

"Well, I still know how families should act," Madelyne argued. Madelyne, don't question my methods," Duncan said in a low growl. "Why were you weeping?" he asked, swiftly changing the subject.

"Because of what my brother did to Adela," Madelyne whispered. She rested her face on Duncan 's shoulder. "My brother will burn in hell for eternity."

"Aye," Duncan answered.

"He's a man in need of killing. I don't condemn you for wanting to kill him, Duncan."

Duncan shook his head. "Does it make you feel better not to condemn me?" he asked.

She thought she heard amusement in his voice. "I have changed my views on killing. I was weeping because of that loss," she whispered. "And for what I must do."

Duncan waited for Madelyne to explain. They reached the doors. Duncan pulled one open without unsettling her. The strength in him amazed her yet again. It had taken all her determination, both hands, too, to work one of those doors open enough to slip through without catching her backside, yet Duncan hadn't shown the least bit of strain. "What must you do?" Duncan asked, unable to contain his curiosity. "I must kill a man."

The door slammed shut just as Madelyne whispered her confession. Duncan wasn't sure he'd heard her correctly. He decided he had enough patience to wait until they had reached his bedroom before questioning her further.

He carried Madelyne up the steps, ignoring her protests that she was able to walk, didn't pause when they reached the hall level, but continued on, up to the next. Madelyne believed he was taking her back to the tower room. When they reached the mouth of the circular structure, Duncan turned in the opposite direction and continued on down a dark corridor. It was too dark to see where it led.

She was highly curious, for she hadn't even noticed the narrow hallway. They reached the end of the corridor, and Duncan opened a door and carried Madelyne inside. It was obviously his sleeping quarters, Madelyne realized, even as she considered it most kind of him to give up his bedroom to her for this night.

It was warm and cozy inside the bedroom. A full fire blazed in the hearth, giving heat and a soft glow to the otherwise Stark room. A single window was centered in the opposite wall, covered with an animal skin in lieu of shutters. A wide bed took up most of the stone wall adjacent to the hearth, with a chest beside it.

The bed and chest were the only pieces of furniture in the room. It was clean, though, almost spotless. That fact made Madelyne smile. She didn't know why it pleased her but was glad that Duncan didn't like clutter any more than she did.

Why then did he allow the main hall to be so ill attended? That didn't make sense to her, now that she'd seen his own quarters. She decided to question him about it just as soon as she caught him in a good mood. Madelyne did smile then, for she realized she might very well be an old woman before Duncan achieved such a remarkable change in disposition.

Duncan didn't seem to be in any particular hurry to release her. He walked over to the hearth, leaned his shoulders against the edge of the thick mantel, and began to rub back and forth, obviously appeasing a sudden itch. Madelyne held on to him for dear life. Lord, she wished he were wearing a shirt. It wasn't decent, she told herself, because she liked touching his skin too much. Duncan was like a bronze god. His skin felt warm, and with her palms resting on his shoulders, she could feel the rippled muscles play beneath her fingertips.

She wished she could understand her reaction to him. Why, her heart was pacing a wild beat again. Madelyne dared a quick look up and found Duncan was watching her intently. He looked so handsome. She wanted him to be ugly. "Are you going to hold me the rest of the night?" she asked, sounding ridiculously disgruntled.

Duncan shrugged, almost unsettling Madelyne. She grabbed hold of him again, and when he smiled at her, she realized he might have jarred her just to get her to cling to him.

"Answer my question first, then I'll release you," Duncan commanded.

"I'll answer your question," she told him.