anya awoke to the feel of lips moving with tantalizing softness over hers. She didn’t have to wonder who was kissing her. What she did wonder was if Stefan was awake and knew what he was doing, or if he was merely reacting in his sleep to the warm body he found next to him. And if he wasn’t awake, or completely aware, did she want to risk changing that by abruptly stopping him?

Reasonable questions, surely, but they didn’t take into account that she found being awakened like this very pleasant, so pleasant that she didn’t want to be the one to end it. In fact, she began participating, carefully at first—to avoid waking him if he was still half‑asleep—parting her lips, inviting the thrust of his tongue, which came instantly to duel in slow, sensual motion with hers.

But how quickly she forgot about being careful when the more she yielded, the more Stefan demanded. In no time at all, passion raged between them, hers fed by his. Her heartbeat had become violent. She had to gasp for each breath when she could get one. And the sensations that manifested and pulsed through her innards were more exciting than ever before.

She held him close, marveling that each time she ever had, the man had been so very hot to the touch. Now was no different, and she found herself wanting more than anything to know the feel of that heated skin against her own. But she still wore her dress. He still wore his shirt and trousers. Even the blanket was still half covering only her, though she had kicked one leg free of it when she had turned toward Stefan.

Then suddenly he was pushing the shoulders of her dress down and tugging on the bodice until her breasts spilled out. His hand caressed her while his kiss deepened even more, as if he were afraid this new intimacy might inspire a protest. The only thing inspired was a new sensation that amazed and delighted her as he palmed the hard kernel her nipple had become.

When his lips finally left hers, she tried to draw him back, but he was determined to explore a new path. He found it and she gasped, the moist heat of his mouth searing one breast, then the other, as if he couldn’t make up his mind which one he found more tasty. But then he latched onto one nipple and began to suckle, and Tanya discovered the heretofore unknown connection between her breasts and her loins, how heat could shoot from one part of her body to another, firing an achy feeling of need for his touch in both places. She arched into him, demanding what she needed with her body. His hand slid up her bare calf, her thigh, finally answering her silent call with the most sensuous of caresses.

There was no doubt now that he was awake, and no doubt either that nothing was going to stop them this time. And Tanya responded to that, giving herself over completely to what he was making her feel, wanting so much now to know it all, feel it all, though she couldn’t quite believe anything could be better than what she was experiencing right now. His na­kedness, though, that might be better, all that heat hers to touch... hers? No, she wouldn’t let doubts or negative thoughts intrude to spoil this. She wanted this man to make love to her. She wanted...

The insistent pounding on the door registered and provoked a groan of frustration from her. Stefan was more vocal, snarling, “I’ll kill them,” as he raised his head.

The pounding continued a moment more, then: “Stefan, if you don’t answer, I’ll think she’s mur­dered you and break this damn door down!”

Tanya’s eyes flew open, but it was difficult to see anything with only a thin crack of light coming in from under the door. But the door wasn’t locked. Stefan had no more than slammed it closed last night.

He must have realized that at the same moment she did, for he got up with a curse, then groaned as the headache from his expected hangover caught up with him in a big way. But he still managed to reach the door, opened it partially just long enough for whoever was on the other side to see him, then closed it again, softly, in deference to his head.

Tanya slowly pulled and pushed her dress back into place, not knowing what to expect now, espe­cially when the door‑pounder called out the parting tidbit that the boat had docked an hour ago. She could barely make out Stefan’s shadow as he moved to light a lamp. She wished he wouldn’t. She wished he’d come back to bed, but she knew that was im­possible now with everyone obviously waiting for them to emerge from the cabin.

But when light surrounded her, Tanya had one more wish, that it would extinguish itself. It didn’t.

Stefan was standing next to the bed, staring down at her with the most inscrutable expression he’d ever worn, and all her doubts came rushing to the surface.

Had he meant to start what had happened, or had he in fact been sleeping to begin with and just got as caught up in their mounting passion as she had been? Did he wonder the same thing about her? And after last night and his magnanimous, arrogant offer to make love to her because she needed it... oh, God, this morning wasn’t an extension of that offer, was it? And why didn’t he say something? Why did he simply keep staring, as if similar or worse ques­tions were running through his mind? Worse, she guessed, for his expression suddenly hardened, what­ ever conclusion he’d drawn not to his liking.

Tanya braced herself, but she still wasn’t prepared to hear him say, “You really don’t care who you bed with, do you?”

She would have hit him if he was close enough. She had to settle for rolling over to give him her back, because the rejoinder he deserved—“I guess not”—wouldn’t get past the lump in her throat.

Her silent withdrawal must have surprised him, however, for he added, “I’m sorry—that was uncalled-for. But I know you hate me, so what else am I to think?”

What else indeed, but he didn’t have to put it quite that way, did he? But it seemed that the more intimate they were, the more insulting became his remarks afterward, so she should have expected something like that. But she hadn’t.

And what could she tell him? She had been so furious with him about his taking the tavern from her that she really would have shot him if she could have got hold of a gun. But the anger had petered out into despondency over what she was going to do with her future. Still, just last night her anger had returned and she had been hell‑bent on getting a little even. So it was understandable that he would assume she hated him. Only she didn’t hate him. She ought to, but she didn’t, and she didn’t understand that at all.

So again, what was she supposed to tell him to account for her passionate behavior? That she was so attracted to him nothing else mattered? He wouldn’t believe that any more than she did. She didn’t trust him, didn’t accept half of what he told her. And she didn’t like the uncertainty he caused her, or his attitude, which swung on such a wide pendulum that she was constantly kept off balance. And she really did hate his insults. All of these negative reactions were pretty hard to hide from him when she didn’t have lovemaking on her mind. Then what was the reason she was drawn to him despite all that?

Lord help her, maybe she was as bad as he thought she was. Maybe she just liked those things he made her feel so much, she could overlook the rest. And maybe that was all she should tell him, or tell him nothing whatsoever, which was the same thing, since he already thought it.

This was her own fault. She had known full well she shouldn’t have stayed in this bed with him last night. And she had tried to leave it a number of times, but each time his arm had tightened over her legs, he’d mumbled something incoherent and moved even closer to her, so she’d finally given up and tried falling back to sleep, a tall order under the circumstances.

And she’d been so sure she had handled that situation well last night, despite her frustration at having to give in on practically everything just to keep Stefan a happy drunk. But if she knew anything, it was that you didn’t argue with intoxicated men. Too easily they could be moved to violence, serious violence that half the time they didn’t even remember the next morning.

She’d long ago learned how to avoid that. If you agreed with them no matter what, you could steer them down the path you wanted them to go. That hadn’t quite been the result with Stefan, but at least she had kept him peaceable. Only look what it had led to. Now his opinion of her was so low, it was a wonder he could even look at her.

But that was just as well, wasn’t it? As usual, when she wasn’t aroused, she was wishing herself any­where else but here with Stefan and his cohorts.

“Tanya?”

She shrugged the hand away that came to her shoulder, but said nothing. She heard a sigh and then movement as he left the side of the bed.

“I will leave you to change and pack your things,” he told her. “But do hurry. We’ve kept the others waiting long enough.” She didn’t hear the door open and close, however, because Stefan had one more thing to say, though it took him several long moments to do so. “It bothers me more than it should, your experience with men.”

Her eyes flared wide and darkened with rancor, but he didn’t see that with her back still toward him. Was he actually trying to offer an excuse for his blistering insults? As if any excuse could make a difference. It bothered him? Well, she could fix that, couldn’t she?

Without turning around, she said, “You should have said something sooner, Stefan, because I could have so easily relieved your mind. You see, I don’t actually have any experience with men other than you, and that’s not much, is it? But I don’t expect you to believe that, which is why I haven’t mentioned it before. After all, I worked and lived in a tavern, and all tavern girls are whores, aren’t they? On sec­ond thought, I guess you’ll just have to keep on being bothered by it.”

She had spoken with enough sarcasm that he couldn’t possibly believe her. But then she didn’t want him to. She only wanted to give him something else to be bothered about. And by his new habit of slamming the door shut on his way out, this time despite his aching head, she guessed she’d succeeded very well.