She shook her head and headed for the door. There was no use trying to reason with him when he was in such a mood. "I'll see you in the morning. I'm certain whatever it is that has you so upset will keep until then."

Blake caught a handful of the fabric of her skirt and hauled her back to the center of the room. "You are not going anywhere," he growled.

"I beg your pardon."

"Just what the hell did you think you were doing tonight?"

"Saving your life?" she quipped.

"Don't make jokes."

"I wasn't. I did save your life. And I don't recall hearing one word of thanks for it."

He muttered something under his breath, fol­lowed by, "You didn't save my life. All you did was endanger your own."

"I won't quibble with the latter sentence, but I certainly did save your life this evening. If I hadn't rushed out to Prewitt Hall to warn you about Farns-worth and his ten o'clock tea, he would surely have shot you."

"That's a moot point, Caroline."

"Of course it is," she replied with a disdainful sniff. "I saved your miserable life, and Farnsworth was never given the opportunity to shoot at you."

He stared at her long and hard. "I am going to say this only once. You are not to get involved with our work bringing your former guardian to justice."

Caroline remained silent.

After a moment Blake clearly lost patience with her lack of response, so he demanded, "Well? Don't you have a reply?"

"I do, but you wouldn't like it."

"Goddamn it, Caroline!" he exploded. "Don't you give even a thought to your own safety?"

"Of course I do. Do you think I had fun risking my neck for you this evening? I could have been killed. Or worse, you could have been killed. Or Oliver could have captured me and forced me to marry Percy." She shuddered. "Good God, I'll probably have nightmares about that last scenario for weeks."

"You certainly seemed to be enjoying yourself."

"Well, I wasn't. I felt sick the entire time, know­ing that we were in danger."

"If you were so petrified, why weren't you crying and carrying on like a normal woman?"

"A normal woman? Sir, you insult me. You insult my entire gender."

"You must admit that most women would have needed smelling salts tonight."

She glared at him, her entire body shaking with fury. "Am I expected to apologize because I didn't fall apart and simper and cry and ruin the entire operation? I was scared -no,.I was petrified, but what good would I have been if I hadn't kept up a brave front? Besides," she added, her expression growing sullen, "I was so angry with you most of the time I forgot how scared I was."

Blake looked away. Hearing her admit her fear made him feel even worse. If anything had happened to her that night it would have been his fault. "Caroline," he said in a low voice, "I won't have you endangering yourself. I forbid it."

"You have no right to forbid me anything."

A muscle started to twitch in his neck. "As long as you are living in my house-"

"Oh, for goodness sake, you sound like one of my guardians."

"Now you insult me."

She let out a frustrated exhale. "I don't know how you bear it, living constantly in such danger. I don't know how your family bears it. They must worry terribly about you."

"My family doesn't know."

"What?" she screeched. "How is that possible?"

"I've never told them."

"That is abominable," she said with great feeling. 'Truly abominable. If I had a family I should never treat them with such disrespect."

"We are not here to discuss my family," he ground out. "We are here to discuss your foolhardy behavior."

"I refuse to acknowledge my behavior as fool­hardy. You would have done the exact same tiling were you in my shoes."

"But I wasn't in your shoes, as you so delicately put it, and furthermore, I have nearly a decade of experience with these matters. You do not."

"What do you want from me? Do you want me to promise I shall never interfere again?"

"That would be an excellent beginning."

Caroline planted her hands on her hips and jutted her chin forward. "Well, I won't. I should like noth­ing more than to keep myself out of peril for the rest of my life, but if you are in danger, and I can do something to help, I certainly will not remain idle. How could I have lived with myself if you'd been hurt?"

"You are the most muleheaded woman I have ever had the misfortune to meet." He raked his hand through his hair and muttered something un­der his breath before saying, "Can't you see I'm try­ing to protect you?"

Caroline felt something rather warm tickling within her, and tears formed in her eyes. "Yes," she said, "but can't you see I'm trying to do the same?"

"Don't." His word was cold, clipped, and hard, so hard that Caroline actually took a step back.

"Why are you being so cruel?" she whispered.

"The last time a woman thought to protect me..."

His voice faded away, but Caroline needed no words to understand the stark grief etched on his face. "Blake," she said softly, "I don't want to argue about this."

"Then promise me something."

She swallowed, knowing that he was going to ask something to which she couldn't agree.

"Don't put yourself in danger again. If something happened to you, I-I couldn't bear it, Caroline."

She turned away. Her eyes were growing teary, and she didn't want him to see her emotional re­sponse to his plea. There was something in his voice that touched her heart, something about the way his lips moved for a moment before he spoke, as if he were searching in vain for the right words.

But then he said, "I can't let another woman die," and she knew this wasn't about her. It was about him, and the overwhelming guilt he felt over the death of his fiancee. She didn't know all of the details surrounding Marabelle's demise, but James had said enough for her to know that Blake still blamed himself for her death.

Caroline choked down a sob. How could she compete with a dead woman?

Without looking at him, she stumbled toward the door. "I'm going upstairs. If you have anything

more to say to me you can say it in the morning." But before she could wrap her hand around the

doorknob she heard him say, "Wait."

Just one word and she was helpless to resist. Slowly, she turned around.

Blake stared at her, unable to take his eyes from her face. He wanted to say something; a thousand words crashed through his mind, but he couldn't think of a single sentence. And then, without real­izing what he was doing, he took a step toward her, and then another, and then another, and then she was in his arms.

"Don't scare me again," he murmured into her hair.

She didn't reply, but he felt her body growing warm and softening against him. Then he heard her sigh. It was a soft sound, barely audible, but it was sweet and it told him she wanted him. Maybe not the way he wanted her-hell, he doubted that was possible; he couldn't remember ever wanting a woman with this white-hot brand of need. But still, she wanted him. He was sure of it.

His lips found hers and he devoured her with all the fear and desire he'd been feeling all evening. She tasted like his every dream and felt like pure heaven.

And Blake knew he was damned.

He could never have her, never love her in the ways she deserved to be loved, but he was too selfish to let her go. Just for this moment he could- and would-pretend that he was hers, and she was his, and that his heart was whole.