His breath steamed on the cold, and his blood pulsed from hard, vigorous exercise. The strenuous activity of hacking up deadwood in this thin mountain air had cleared his mind. He’d worked off all traces of the raw hunger the countess had unknowingly fed with each lick of her fingers. He’d also come to a belated decision. It was time, past time, he set matters straight about their sleeping arrangements. He hadn’t missed her sudden paleness when he’d mentioned bedding down for the night. He’d let her stew about the matter long enough. He walked into camp, fully intending to set her mind at ease. And he might have done just that...if she hadn’t scrambled to her feet and regarded Josh across a bed of pine boughs with the same enthusiasm she’d show a scaly-backed wood beetle that had just crawled out from under a rotten log. Damnation! She could cut a man down to half his size with one haughty stare. Crossing to the fire, Josh dumped his armload of wood. He’d let her off the hook.
