“Aye, a renegade you truly are,” Shanna stormed, throwing her arms akimbo. “But I have all to lose.”
“All to lose! Ha!” he snorted then bellowed into her face as he bent nearer. “And what more can I lose but my neck? Do you think I value it so little that I lightly regard your state? Do you think I seek the hangman for a godfather?”
Shanna’s voice shrilled. “I think you’re a pompous ass!”
“And you’re a much coddled brat!” Ruark roared. “Methinks I shall do what your father didn’t and turn you across my knee for a good backsiding.”
The green eyes glared at him threateningly. “You touch me, Master Ruark Beauchamp, and I’ll flay the hide from your naked carcass!”
They stood high above the half-constructed mill, nose to nose on a narrow platform which trembled beneath their rage, but neither took notice. The small storm cloud broke free of its mooring on the hill and sailed straight across the valley, leading a whole flock of its kin toward them.
“You jackanape!” Shanna choked beneath those smirking amber eyes. “You senseless clod! You brutish dolt—”
There was a blinding flash of lightning close above their heads. In the next instant the deafening, crackling sizzle of thunder encased them in a volley of sound. Shanna started violently, and in sudden panic she fell against Ruark, half turning, her hands clutched at his bare arm, her fingers biting deep, and her eyes wide with fear. Close on the heels of the fading roar, another charge of lightning seared the air, and Shanna, pale and shaking, could only cringe like a frightened child. Ruark had thought there was little in the world that could stir her to such a fright. She had shown such courage in the face of diverse difficulties. His anger dissolved rapidly, and he placed an arm about her shoulders, holding her trembling form close as he led her to the ladder. The first chilling drops of rain were already pelting them, and the wind rattled the loose boards beneath their feet.
“Have a care, Shanna,” Ruark warned above the gusts. “The place is high and the way steep.”
The wind swept any reply from her lips, and Shanna had to gasp for breath itself. She eagerly began the descent after Ruark. By the time they reached the landing, he had to shout close by her ear.
“The overseer’s hut. That shack over by the road. Run!” He pushed her ahead of him, and, lifting her skirts, Shanna dashed across the platform, down the steps, and across the cleared yard to the simple shanty he had indicated. Gasping for breath, Shanna fell back against the door. Ruark was a step behind her, and he bent close above her to give her some shelter from the now brutal force of the rain as he fumbled with the latchstring on the door.
A jagged flash crossed the sky, and a rolling crash of thunder boomed in their ears. Shanna shuddered fearfully, hiding her face against Ruark’s chest and huddling close to him, her long fingernails digging into his naked back. The awesome peal faded, and after a long moment Shanna drew back and gazed up at Ruark, not caring that streams of water ran down her face. There was an odd look in his eyes as he stared down at her. Slowly his head lowered, and his lips parted as they met hers. The rain drummed his back unheeded while his mouth leisurely savored hers. His hand on the latch moved, and the stubborn door opened easily now as if welcoming them into the sheltered dark interior. Sweeping her into his arms, Ruark strode within, pushing the door shut with his shoulder.
The wind howled, the thunder roared, the lightning flashed and the hut shook—whether from the storm within or the storm without the two of them gave it no mind. In the aftermath they lay close together on the narrow cot which served as an occasional bed. Shanna’s clothes were draped over a chair before a fire that crackled and spit on the small cooking hearth, while outside a light rain still fell. Beneath the patter on the roof, they were silent in each other’s arms, much subdued, their emotions for the moment spent.
Her cheek against his sturdy brown shoulder, Shanna lightly stroked the furry expanse of Ruark’s chest and the bare skin of his arm and ribs. The languid contentment of the moment refused to be disturbed. She had not meant to tumble into bed with him so willingly, but now that she was here she could gather no urge to leave.
Shanna propped on Ruark’s chest to stare down into his face, meeting his warm regard. Her soft breasts were like velvet against him, and it was sweet, delicious torture to have his skin seared by the pale peaks.
“Have you ever been in love?” Shanna inquired softly, tracing the tips of her fingers across his lips.
Ruark cocked a wondering brow at her. “Why, Shanna,” a lazy smile tugged at a corner of his mouth, “I’ve told you before that you are my only love.”