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sweat on his forehead, his long lashes shielding his half-closed eyes, his breath brushing her cheek. Her own pleasure increased with his urgent movements, her nerve endings beginning to tingle, to pulse around his surging flesh. Leanna let the wash of sexual excitement take her away, rolling her helplessly in a sea of sensation until she felt again that exquisite tide of pleasure build and burst. This time her hands flew to his broad shoulders, her nails digging in as she threw back her head and cried out, her inner muscles tightening around that potent, insistent penetration.
    The man above her went rigid all at once, buried impossibly deep and hard, a liquid heat flooding her as he groaned, the ripples from his body flowing into hers. He stayed there for what seemed like an eternity while she drifted in that blissful ocean of pleasure, until she could feel he was softening, no longer so rigid. When he eased out from between her legs, she actually had to stifle a sigh of loss.
    Then he gathered her into his arms at once, pulling her damp body to his broad chest. A chuckle rippled through him and she glanced up curiously, seeing a twinkle in those seductive dark eyes. “I believe,” he said, laughing, “this might be the best bargain I have ever made, lass.”

Chapter 3
    H is face livid, Baron Dartmus Frankton slammed his hand onto the table. “Who took her?” He breathed with such agitation he could hardly speak because of the fight for air. with such agitation he could hardly speak because of
    “We don’t know. They left ropes dangling from the roof. Someone had to have let them in.” Impassively, the other man watched him, as if he carefully held back any emotion. “I rode here to tell you as soon as we discovered she was gone.”
    “The servants know nothing? I don’t believe that.” Frankton strode across the room and dashed liquid into a fat glass, taking a quick bracing gulp. It can’t be, he thought incredulously. How could his prize be gone, especially since he had plotted so carefully to attain her, not taking her to bed before now because he wanted to savor the superb joy of the anticipation of the moment when he plucked her carefully guarded innocence? She would sob in fear and reluctance, he’d always gleefully imagined, and beg him to leave her alone even as he forced those lovely pale legs apart and plundered her luscious body. . . .
    “The servants,” his man—the stupid fool who had already failed him—was saying, “are being questioned one by one.” Then, after a palpable hesitation, he ventured, “Your enemies, my lord, are many. A large party rode north that same night.”
    “All successful men have enemies,” Frankton muttered, thinking furiously. Could, even now, some other man be enjoying his prize? “Find out everything you can. I want answers. Question everyone in the countryside surrounding the castle. Someone will know something.”
    “Perhaps a ransom note will come, asking for money for Lady Leanna.”
    That notion made him even more irate, and blood pounded in his ears. He’d paid for her once already and he’d be damned if he’d do so again. “If so,” he rasped out, “keep the man delivering it. Messengers can be tortured, and I want answers.”
    His henchman paled at the open venom in his master’s voice and bowed, licking his dry lips. “Yes, my lord.”
     
     
    “Lassie?”
    Leanna rolled over and blinked, her gaze focusing on a small figure standing by the side of the bed. A tray rested in the other woman’s hands. Recognizing the same kindly older servant who had helped her bathe and brought her food the night before, she sat up in a flurry of loose hair. Forgetting for a moment that she was naked, she quickly caught the sheet up and felt the tide of heat in her cheeks as she covered her bare breasts.
    She must have fallen back to sleep after she had invited Ian McCray to bed her and he had accepted so . . . well, so gloriously. Remembering their