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are you doing out here?” she asked.

      “I was just about to ask you the same thing.”

      “I couldn’t sleep. I decided to go for a walk.”

      “In the middle of the night?” His eyes raked over her and the gentle pressure on her arms increased. “In your night clothes?”

      “I didn’t expect to run into anyone.” She didn’t bother to point out that in baggy PJ bottoms and no shirt he wasn’t exactly overdressed either. And it was taking all of her concentration not to stare at his smooth, muscular, magnificent chest. “I just assumed everyone had gone to sleep.”

      “I’m sure everyone else has.”

      “Except you.”

      “I was working. I saw you from my bedroom window. When you went into the maze, I worried you might get lost.”

      She doubted that. “Actually, I was doing just fine until someone got me all confused and turned around.”

      His teeth flashed white in the dark as he smiled. “Most people aren’t brave enough to venture in here at night.”

      She shrugged. “What’s the worst that could happen?”

      “Giant, man-eating centipedes?” he suggested, then a sly smile curled his lips. “And there’s always me.”

      “You?”

      “You barely know me. I could be dangerous.”

      Only to her heart.

      She smiled up at him. “Somehow I doubt that.”

      “You never know.” His hands slid up to her shoulders, caressing her through the delicate, slippery silk. “I might try to take advantage of you. There’s no one here to stop me.”

      “What if I didn’t want you to stop?” She reached up and pressed her palms against the solid warmth of his chest, felt his heart thumping under warm skin and sinew. “Who knows? I might even take advantage of you.

      Even in the dim light she could see flames of desire flicker in his eyes. His gaze settled on her mouth, making her lips feel swollen and warm. Her heart began to beat double time and her skin felt tingly and alive. She knew instinctively that he would be an accomplished lover. Probably because she’d known so many who weren’t.

      You’re moving too fast, her subconscious warned her. She barely knew Chris, yet already she was sure that before she returned to Morgan Isle, she would be getting to know him a lot better. Maybe it was destiny. Or fate.

      “Since the minute you stepped off that plane, I’ve thought of little else but kissing you, Melissa,” he said, so close she could feel the whisper of his breath on her cheek. And, oh, how she loved that accent. When he spoke her name it gave her warm shivers.

      A proper Southern belle would tease awhile, play hard to get. But she never had been one to play by the rules.

      She smiled up at him and said, “So what’s stopping you?”

      He caressed the side of her face with one large, warm hand while the other slipped through her hair to delicately cradle the back of her head, as though she were a precious object he worried he might damage.

      He lowered his head, leaned in and brushed his lips against hers. So sweet and gentle she went weak in the knees. But she wanted more. Every instinct she possessed was screaming that this was right. She wanted all of him, right that second.

      She slid her arms around his neck, pulled him closer, deepening the kiss. Being in Chris’s arms, feeling his warm hands on her skin, his lips, soft yet firm, on her own, felt like returning home after a long, arduous journey. For the first time since she was a child she felt as though she was exactly where she was supposed to be.

      A rush of relief so intense that she felt like weeping washed over her. She’d never felt so vulnerable in her life, and frankly, it scared her to death.

      She flattened her palms against his chest and gently pushed, severing their connection. And he knew why instinctively.

      “We’re going too fast,” he said.

      She nodded. So much for her brave claims that she might take advantage of him. That she wasn’t afraid of anything. Right now she was terrified.

      “Maybe I should walk you back up to your room,” he said.

      “You probably should,” she agreed. Another time, another night, maybe she wouldn’t tell him no.

      “Give me your hand,” he said.

      She held it out, and he laced his fingers through hers. He led her through the maze and had them out in a few short minutes. They walked together in silence through the castle to her bedroom door.

      She opened it, and turned to look at him. “I feel as though I should apologize for the way I acted out there. I’m usually not so forward.”

      He gave her hand a gentle squeeze. “I should be the one apologizing. I didn’t mean to rush things. It’s just that when I see something good, I go after it.”

      So did she. Maybe the problem was that Chris was too good. To perfect to be true.

      But wouldn’t it be nice if he was everything he seemed to be?

      Despite the late night, Chris woke before dawn and for the life of him couldn’t get back to sleep. Too much on his mind. Namely Melissa. Things were progressing more quickly than he’d imagined. Than he could have possibly hoped. And he was eager to take it to the next step.

      He also had the crops to think about. He’d been doing Internet research last night when he saw Melissa outside. And now that he was awake, he might as well see what else he could find.

      He booted up his computer, opened his browser and returned to the site he’d bookmarked—a study of botanical diseases in organic crops—immersing himself in the text.

      A while later Aaron poked his head in. “You’re up early,” he said.

      Chris looked at the clock. “It’s half past seven.”

      “Which is early for someone who spent half the night traipsing through the gardens,” Aaron said with a cocky grin.

      Apparently Aaron hadn’t been asleep either. Chris shot him a look. “I don’t traipse.

      “I take it things are moving right along with your princess.”

      “You might say that.” He could see that his brother wanted details, but he wasn’t going to get any. And he didn’t push the issue.

      “Oh, and by the way,” Aaron said, “nice e-mail. You have a twisted sense of humor.”

      Chris didn’t recall sending his brother anything lately, much less something that could be defined as twisted. “What e-mail?”

      “The one you sent last night. I never knew

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