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match hers. “I don’t think he would care,” he answered truthfully. “You’re not doing any harm.”

She smiled. “Thank ye.”

Almost unconsciously, his hand rose. He realized he was reaching for her braid and turned the motion into a scratch of his chin at the last moment, certain it looked awkward as hell. “I’d, uh, I’d love to see whatever it is you’re working on.”

“Oh!” Her eyes lit up. “I’d love to show ye!”

She began to turn, and he—without realizing his intent—put his hand on her arm and stopped her.

Ember turned back to him with a raised brow, and Max’s mind went blank.

He couldn’t come up with one damn thing to say. There was a bug on your sleeve sounded fake, and I just wanted an excuse to touch you sounded creepy, and Just checking the size of your muscles. Wow, feel these things! was just weird.

So he blurted what was actually on his mind. “You have beautiful hair.”

Her lips formed a little “oh” of surprise as her hand rose to touch her braid, and he found himself becoming jealous—of her hand, sure, but more so of those lips. He wanted to be the one to taste them, to make her sigh in surprise, to make her say, “Oh.”

He wanted to kiss her, more than he’d ever wanted to kiss anyone else, ever.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, but didn’t remove his hand.

She smiled. “For complimenting me? Dinnae be.” Was she leaning toward him? Her gaze dropped to his lips. “I rarely get compliments.”

Her breathy tone made him feel bold. “That’s a shame. You deserve all sorts of compliments.”

When her gaze rose to meet his once more, he felt the desire—the need—slam into him and shoot straight to his cock.

“About my hair?” she breathed.

Hoping to distract himself, he lifted his hand to her braid once more, but this time, he didn’t stop himself. He lifted the feathery tips of her hair and brushed them against his thumb.

Not just your hair! he wanted to tell her. But all he actually said was, “It is a gorgeous color.” One which was still tugging at his memory. “It’s a shame to keep it covered.”

Her eyes were wide, and he wasn’t mistaken; she stepped even closer to him.

“Baroness Oliphant makes me wear a cap. She says the color of my hair is inappropriate.”

“How could a color be inappropriate?”

Her lips curled up at the corners. “She says it incites men to think lustful thoughts.”

Max couldn’t help it; he burst into laughter, and when he’d calmed himself down, she was standing even closer, her head tilted back to meet his eyes.

“She’s right, you know,” he drawled, dragging the tip of her braid against her neck, and liking the way she shivered at the sensation. “I’m having all sorts of lustful thoughts right now.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, but it’s not because of your hair.”

Her pink tongue darted out across her lips. “What are they— I mean, why are ye having those thoughts?”

He dropped her braid, and his fingertips replaced it against her neck, carefully skimming against her skin. When she whimpered softly and tilted her head to give him better access, he knew she didn’t object.

“Your lips, Ember,” he said softly, and her eyes widened. “Mainly your lips, I should say. Also your skin, and your hands.”

“My—my hands are callused,” she gasped, leaning toward him.

“Yeah, but they still make me think lustful thoughts.” Like where she might put those hands.

“Max…” she whispered.

When he took a deep breath, his chest touched hers, and he wondered if her breasts were aching for his touch. “Ember, I’d like to kiss you. Do you mind?”

Holding his gaze, she smiled. “I thought ye’d never ask.”

And then she pushed herself up on her toes, her arms going around his neck, and he lowered his lips to hers.

Dear God, but this had to be the most incredible kiss he’d ever experienced!

Not that he was…experienced. There’d been a few ladies back home of course, and the girls over at The Gingerbread House Saloon, and—

Why in tarnation are you thinking about other women right now?

Max exhaled and let himself sink into this kiss—this electrifying, exhilarating kiss.

Her fingers raked through the short hairs at the back of his neck, causing him to shiver, and when he dragged his tongue along the seam of her lips, they parted with a sigh. What started off sweet soon became desperate, as Max realized he wasn’t going to be able to get enough of her.

When she took his lower lip between her teeth and sucked, he instinctively pressed forward with his pelvis, pressing his hardness against her. Instead of being offended or frightened, Ember only moaned—a low, desperate sort of moan—and pushed back, gyrating her hips as if she wanted more pressure.

Well, that did it. Unable to stop himself, he broke the connection of their kiss so he could drag his lips along her jaw, then to the sensitive spot behind her ear. When she whispered a ragged, “Aye! Oh, aye!” his palm found her breast, his fingers brushing against her nipple under the thin cotton of her blouse and chemise.

She wasn’t wearing a corset, and he discovered he liked that very much.

She bucked against him, and he knew she liked the sensation, so he did it again, then captured her nipple between his thumb and forefinger.

“Max!” she gasped, as he kissed along her neck.

“Oh God, Ember. I have to taste you!”

She arched into his touch. “Aye, please!”

As much as he wanted to unbutton her blouse, pull down her chemise and clamp his mouth against her bare skin, he didn’t have that kind of time right now. So he just lowered his mouth to her completely covered breast, and when she moaned in need and pushed against his lips, he knew he’d made the right choice. He brushed his tongue against her nipple—stiff and perfect under the layers of cotton, and she jerked in response, her breaths coming faster.

One of his hands cupped her rear end, pulling her closer, while the other palmed her opposite breast. She felt

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