entrance. He barely noticed her stepping out of her torn drawers and kicking them aside.
Beneath them, the earth shook and a few scrabbles of rocks tumbled down the cave walls. The fire was blown out by an abrupt gust of wind barreling from the entrance, plunging them into near darkness. The roaring sound was right over them now and the horse began to whinny and sidestep in an effort to break free. It was all Harper could do to hold on to it as he crowded Peyton against the wall, shielding her with his body as debris came swirling through the entrance.
Something hard hit him on his right thigh and he cried out, but he continued to block Peyton while sand swirled around them. He used his free hand to cup the back of her neck, pulling her face against his shirt to protect her as he turned his head away in order to breathe. The pressure inside the cave was fierce and when it suddenly dissipated, his ears popped uncomfortably.
"Is it over?" he heard her mutter.
"I think so, wench." He had her tight against the cave wall, his body pressed into hers, his hand still on her neck so that when she lifted her head and looked up at him in the darkness he could feel her gaze on him. "You're looking at me, again," he complained.
"I can't see you," she said, "but I can sure smell you."
He could smell himself and it bothered him. After all the years he'd spent not being allowed but one bath a week--and sometimes not even that often--he had sworn he'd never be or feel or smell dirty again.
"I can smell you, too," he said in a husky voice, but it was a scent that was doing unbelievable things to his lower body that he shouldn't allow at that moment. He released her and stepped back, putting distance between them.
Peyton shrugged as he moved toward the entrance where light was once more glowing. "If you smell me, it's just your stink on me," she said with a sniff and followed him to where the rain was now a gentle cascade.
Harper smiled at her remark and was very aware of her there behind him. He almost wished she'd put a hand on his back.
"Are we going to ride out, do you think?" she asked.
"If it stops raining," he said. "I've no desire to ride around in a wet, smelly shirt."
"Makes sense to me," she said and went to the fire to see if it could be fanned into life again.
"Glad you approve," he mumbled as he joined at the fire pit and set about re-lighting the fire.
"You know that wasn't nice what you did," she said and when he looked over at her, she cocked a shoulder. "Raping me. That wasn't nice."
"Nice?" he repeated. "No, I guess it damned sure wasn't."
"I said no but you didn't listen," she reminded him. "Gentlemen are supposed to ...."
"I'm not a gentleman," he snapped. "I thought we covered that before."
"Yes, but rape ...."
Harper frowned. "Well, it wasn't exactly rape, wench. After a bit, you weren't putting up much of a struggle."
She thought about that for a moment, her eyebrows drawn together. "No, I suppose technically speaking it wasn't." She tucked her bottom lip between her teeth. "I was curious and as you said, it was time I ceased being untried. I am, after all, a grown woman." She gave him a steady look. "And I found I enjoyed what you did there at the last."
He snorted at that comment, moving back as the flames finally took a good hold on the kindling. He sat down with his ankles crossed, knees drawn up and spread apart within the scope of his arms.
"Why aren't you married?" he asked.
She lowered her attention to the bottom button of her borrowed shirt and plucked at it. "Daddy has always discouraged suitors," she said. "I don't think he wants me to ever marry."
"Doesn't that seem unnatural to you?" he inquired.
"The Double D has been in our family for generations," she said. "A husband might demand rights Daddy isn't willing to give. He wants to keep it in the Dalton family."
A strange light entered Harper's eyes. "But if you die without issue, where does that leave the ranch?" he asked.
She