The Adventurer

asked her if she'd played sensual games with him in an effort to get him to give up any claim on the Flowers.
    Nearly done in again by his own mouth.
    One of these days Gideon hoped he would learn not to fire from the hip. He was getting too good at shooting himself in the foot.
    But the sight of Savage's flowers sitting in that pan in the cabin's kitchen had rendered him cold with rage. He'd been furious, not only with Jake who was, after all, only acting in character, but with Sarah who'd accepted the flowers. Furthermore, she'd let the bastard put his hand over hers. He'd
touched
her.
    Gideon knew now she hadn't meant anything by accepting the flowers or letting Jake get close. She seemed to be able to see right through the facade in a way no other woman ever had. Sarah's problem was that she just didn't understand how dangerous Savage could be when it came to women. She was too naive, too trusting.
    Just look how quick she'd been to trust one Gideon Trace, he reminded himself morosely as he took a large swallow of brandy. The little fool had come skipping cheerfully into his life just as if he really were one of the heroes out of her books.
    No common sense, Gideon told himself. That was Sarah's whole problem. She was good-hearted and sweet and fascinating in many ways, but she obviously needed a strong-willed man to take care of her. She needed someone to keep her from getting into trouble. Someone to protect her from the likes of Jake Savage.
    Jake Savage
. Why the hell did he have to show up after all this time? Why couldn't he have done one decent thing in his life and stayed dead?
    But it was typical of Jake to come back now, Gideon thought.
    Just when things had been starting to fall into place between himself and Sarah. Just when he'd figured he was getting a handle on her. Just when he'd started an affair with her and he'd begun to realize how important she was to him.
    Gideon got to his feet, brandy glass in one hand, and went up the stairs and down the dark hall to the room Sarah had chosen. She'd picked the bedroom at the far end, the one that would catch the first rays of morning sunshine.
    He tried the antique glass doorknob. It twisted easily in his hand. He wanted to take that as an invitation but he knew it was more likely Sarah simply hadn't found the key in the bottom bureau drawer.
    Gideon cracked the door a few inches and peered into the shadows. Ellora stirred, meowing silently as she watched him from the depths of the big, old four-poster. The cat was curled up against Sarah's leg. Sarah, herself, was a small, curved shape under the quilt. Her hair spilled out in a dark fan across the pillow. She was sound asleep, one hand curled near her chin.
    Gideon wondered what she would do if he got into bed beside her. He stood there for a long while, sipping his brandy while he studied her in the dim light that filtered through the partially opened door.
    Every time he had taken her into his arms, she'd melted for him, even when she'd claimed she didn't think he was ready for a sexual relationship. She'd always responded when he touched her.
    In fact, she couldn't really resist him, Gideon told himself.
    He opened the door a little farther and stepped into the room. She didn't move. He put the brandy glass down on the bureau and began to undress slowly.
    A few minutes later, naked, he started toward the bed.
    "Take one more step and I'll scream the house down," Sarah said from the shadows.
    Gideon halted, feeling like an idiot. The sensation made him angry and fueled his sense of outraged frustration. "Why? You like it when I make love to you in my arms. Don't try to deny it."
    "If you think I'm going to let you sleep with me after some of the things you said this morning, you're out of your mind. Go to bed, Gideon. Your own bed."
    Gideon didn't move. "What do you want from me? Damn it, Sarah, I don't understand you."
    "That's obvious. The answer to your question is that I don't want anything from you tonight. Go to bed."
    "Sarah." He hesitated, some deep, primitive part of him urging him to ignore her protests. He was certain that if he just climbed into bed with her and took her into his arms, she would cling to him the way she always did. "Give it a chance. You want to communicate? This is one way we communicate just fine."
    "Not tonight, Gideon. I mean it."
    "Damn it, you want me to say I'm sorry? To apologize for what I said at the cabin? Is that it? All right, I'm sorry."
    "That's not enough.