She noticed a subtle difference in Ruel at the site the next day. He scarcely looked at her and betrayed no hint of the sensuality he had exhibited in the railway car, and yet there was something . . .

The first time he spoke was when they were walking back to their horses at sundown. "You've been nervous all day. Would you like to tell me why?"

"I'm not nervous. I just have work to do. You may have time to indulge your whims, but this railroad is no joke to me."

"Stop attacking and tell me what's wrong. I may be able to help."

"You can't help."

"How do you know? I'm a very resourceful fellow. I find answers to most questions."

She whirled on him. "Can you stop the monsoons from starting next week?" she asked fiercely. "Can you find me a hundred workers willing to work free? Can you keep the maharajah from plaguing me with demands to get the blasted railroad completed? Can you—"

"No, I can't do any of those things," he broke in. "And neither can you, so why not accept it and tell the maharajah he's not going to have his railroad completed on time?"

"Because he won't pay us, dammit." She smiled bitterly. "He, too, indulges in whims. If we don't perform to his satisfaction, he could ruin us."

"Don't you have a contract?"

She nodded. "But it's not worth anything in Kasanpore. We're helpless to enforce any contract against the maharajah."

"Then why did you take the job?"

"Patrick thought it was—" She untied the mare and mounted. "Why should I bother to answer your questions? You don't care about my problems. I don't even know why you come back here every day."

"Do you really want to know why I labor so devotedly at your side?"

"I've asked you often enough."

"I'll give you one reason." He paused and then said deliberately, "I plan on trying that position we saw in the painting in the railway car with you."

Her gaze flew to his face. His expression was impassive, his tone so casual she wasn't sure she had heard correctly. "What?"

"Oh, yes, it's become something of an obsession with me in the past few days. I think about it all the time. How I'd position you on your hands and knees, how I'd cup your breasts in my hands. How I'd slowly slide in and feel you tighten around me," His voice hoarsened. "How I'd start easy and then push harder, deeper, how I'd make you scream when I—"

"Stop! I don't want to hear this," she interrupted, moistening her lips. "Go back to Zabrie if you need a woman."

"I don't want a woman." He paused. "I want you."

"One woman is as good as another for what you want."

"That's what I used to think. I've changed my mind."

"Well, change it back again. I don't want . . . that."

"I could make you want it. I believe you discovered at Zabrie's that we were very compatible." His gaze suddenly shifted to her face. "Perhaps too compatible. Did I frighten you?"

"You?" She tried to make her tone scoffing. "You've never frightened me."

"Perhaps not in the usual way, but then, you're not the usual woman. You're used to your independence. Are you afraid you might not be able to control me?"

"I don't think about you at all. I don't have time for wondering about such foolishness."

"We often respond without thinking in this kind of situation."

"Not you. You're always thinking and plotting and planning." She added grimly, "And you have the arrogance to believe you know everything about me."

"Not everything. I find out new things every day. I've also discovered the longer I study you, the more disturbed I'm becoming. That's why I've finally decided I have to do something about it." He smiled recklessly. "Shall I tell you what?"

"I thought you'd already told me."

"Oh, that's only the beginning."

"Zabrie," she said desperately.

"Jane," he said softly. "Only Jane."

"You're not listening to me." Her hands clenched on the reins. "I want you to go away. I should never have let you start work on the line to begin with."

"Why did you?"

"You were amusing." Having Ruel near had been more than amusing. It had been like staring in fascination into the glittering depths of a magician's crystal ball waiting breathlessly to see what new vision would appear. She felt an odd wrenching pang at the knowledge that that excitement was about to end. She would get over it, she quickly assured herself. The emotion he made her feel was too intense, the fascination too dangerous.

"I won't be used by you, Ruel."

"Yes, you will. We're going to use each other and enjoy every minute of it." He saw her start to protest and held up his hand. "And there's no way I'm going to rush when I finally have you. You won't find me 'fast,' Jane."

The raw words evoked a picture of Ruel lying naked on the bed at Zabrie's, his foot rubbing lazily back and forth, testing the textures of the sheet. Her chest felt suddenly tight, her breath constricted. "I won't enjoy any—"

"Dammit, you will." His coolness was suddenly gone, his blue eyes blazing at her. "I won't be made to feel I'm brutalizing you. I'm not one of those men in that stew where you grew up and I'm not a stranger in a darkened room, waiting to give you what you need and be dismissed. I'm Ruel MacClaren, and you'll know who I am every minute I'm with you."

Another picture—tanned muscular legs braced against the white counterpane as he pushed slowly forward . . .

She felt the heat sting her cheeks. "I don't want to talk about this."

"Then we won't talk about it." He looked straight ahead, and his words came hard and fast. "But I'll be thinking about it and so will you. You'll know I want you so badly I hurt most of the day. You'll know every single time I position a spike I'm thinking about you. Every time I give it that first gentle tap to get it started I'm thinking about coming into you. Every time I swing that hammer I'll think of it as a thrust sinking deep and warm inside you." His voice thickened. "And I'll hit each stroke with every bit of my strength and power because I want to go very, very deep." He kicked his horse into a gallop that sent it springing ahead of her. "You might keep that in mind, Jane."

The spike bit deep into the wood.

Jane felt a shock go through her body. It was the vibration of the pounding of the hammer against wood, she told herself. She had felt it a thousand times before, so many times she had ceased to notice it.

Dear God, but she was noticing it now. Her breasts were swelling against her loose shirt, the nipples achingly sensitive as they touched the cloth.

Ruel swung the hammer again. The muscles of his arms rippled, gleamed gold in the sunlight.

The spike sank deeper.

The muscles of her stomach clenched.

The hammer exploded against the head of the spike.

What was happening to her? She was burning up, the blood pounding beneath the skin.

Heat. It had to be the strong sun that was causing this reaction.

She tore her gaze away from Ruel and strode quickly toward the water bearer.

She shook her head as he extended the dipper and cupped her hands. An instant later she was splashing the cool water over her face and cheeks and then over her nape and throat. That was better. She had been right, it had been the sun, not Ruel who had caused the unusual heat.