The thought was sobering and she found herself creeping toward her discarded sweater, which rested in a puddle off to the left of her.

“Ah, I doona think so, Kat lass,” he growled, reaching to push the sweater out of her reach while he stepped back up against the countertop. “It will no’ come back tae you until I’ve had a wee taste of this fine fair skin of yours. Look at how pretty and pale you are. No’ a touch of sun tae be had. I like that. You’re as fair as an Irish lass and a damn sight more pretty, too.”

He lowered his face to her neck, nuzzling her there with a purring earthquake of sound rumbling up out of him. His hands had gone to the countertop on either side of her thighs, gripping it hard enough to snap the granite, she was sure. “Just one li’le taste.” She loved the way he said “little,” his accent dropping both ts. It was another reminder of how different they were, but it didn’t make her come to her senses in the least.

What she was doing was waiting with all of her breaths held in abeyance for the first touch of his lips against her skin.

“I can see your pulse in your throat. A fine, strong throbbing pulse. I see it racing. Tell me, Kat lass, is that for me? Is it because you want me?”

Oh, why couldn’t he just kiss her and be done with it? Why did he have to keep talking to her? It was so much easier when he just kissed her until she was utterly mindless and didn’t have to think about the consequences. So all she could do was shake her head.

“No? Does that mean no, Kat? You doona want me?” He backed away from her and her hands shot to his shoulders and she cried out.

“No! I-I mean … I mean yes. It’s because of you. A-a physiological reaction i-is only normal when in a sexual situation.” Oh God! Did she just say that? Did she just babble at him like some kind of freaking dumb-assed textbook?

“I see. So ’tis the situation and no’ the man himself,” he said, his chiseled lips turning down in a frown.

“No! It’s not just the situation,” she added hastily. Then, afraid she sounded too eager, she subsided a little. “Why do you have to know this? Why can’t you just …”

“Just kiss you?”

“Y-yes,” she admitted breathily.

He leaned in until their lips were just about to touch, his bright eyes meeting hers intensely.

“Because that would be too easy for you, Kat lass. And I’m no’ about tae make this easy for you, no matter how much I’m wanting you.”

With that he pushed away from her and moved to the sink. He washed his hands and his face free of the remaining juice from the tangerine, but it wasn’t until he returned to his stool that she realized he wasn’t coming back to finish what he had started. She realized she was staring at him, completely dumbfounded. Then she felt just how cold the room had grown and she angrily grabbed up her sweater and jerked it on over her head.

“I’m going to check on the generator,” she said bitingly, leaving her food preparation to storm out in search of her coat. The problem was she’d have to pass within reach of him to get to the bedroom. Well, so what?! He obviously didn’t want to take advantage of her.

“Uh-uh,” he said just when she thought she was going to make it past him. His hand shot out and ringed her around her biceps on her right arm, yanking her forward between his knees as he turned the barstool to face her. She went to jerk away but he held fast. He grasped her chin in his fingers and turned her face up to his. “Doona pitch a fit, lass,” he said, making her want to claw his smug grin off his face. “I’m no’ trying tae be mean tae you, Kat. No’ rejecting you, either. I’m just telling you, I know I can run roughshod over others tae get my way, and I willna be doing that wi’ you. Me wanting you is one thing. You wanting me is all of another. I know it. I’m aware of it. I want tae know what you want and you need tae tell me.”

What was she supposed to say to that? He was a stranger. Was she supposed to say that she wanted a total stranger? Didn’t he know how ludicrous that was? Did she?

“I ken you’re no’ ready yet. I can wait, lass. ’Tis no rush. Now, let me check the generator and you can finish this fine meal you’ve been working on. Which way is it, Kat?”

“It’s outside … you can’t—” She ran her eyes down the length of his barely clothed body.

“ ’Tis no’ a problem, lass.”

“It is a problem!” she snapped, shifting instantly into tough medical professional mode. “You will sit right down and you will wait for me to do it myself. Your job is to heal. The sooner you’re better the better off we’ll both be.” The unspoken intent being that she would be happy when she could go back to hiding in her quiet, well-ordered little world.

“I will no’. Come if you like, but I’m going out.”

“B-but—” But she was speaking to herself as he ducked around her and headed for the door. “To the left!” she thought to call out inanely just as he was throwing the door open. He slammed the door shut in his wake, leaving her to shiver in the rushing cold left behind.

Ahnvil went out into the blistering cold with nothing but the towel he had on for protection. Ideally he could have donned his stone skin—it would have protected him from the cold—but these were not ideal circumstances. There were few things that frightened him, but permanent being was one of them … just as death frightened anyone, he supposed.

The walk out into the crunching depth of fast-fallen snow was just the thing. As it was he was burning up from the heat of the desire he felt for his pretty little Kat.

No. Not his. She couldn’t be his. He didn’t want her to be his. Being his meant being in danger, and she was already fragile enough in health and in psyche. As he touched the cold metal of the generator, his warm skin sticking fast, he was forced to remind himself of these things. He was no prize. She would win nothing if she thought to pursue him. Asking for her to make the next move was inviting her to set herself up for disappointment. He had to stop this. Stop it now before it went too far.

If it wasn’t already too far. There was no explaining it, no way of defining what it was about her that made him want to chase her down like a hound chases a fox. And like those hounds he would be the death of his quarry.

Katrina set her pan over the open gas flame of the stove and began to cook the meal she’d started. She was almost finishing when the door exploded open and Ahnvil stepped inside in a freezing wash of wind and snow. As she hurried over to him she swiped up the afghan she’d been dozing under earlier and swung it quickly around his hunching body.