She pressed a hand to her cheek. Her heart was pounding, her palms damp, her throat tight. Part of her felt as if she should flee. But another part of her was flattered and excited and…happy. Devon St. John was climbing a tree outside her window. Her window and not Murien Spalding’s, the most beautiful woman in Scotland.

He was now almost at eye level, the light from the room spilling over his face. Excitement gleamed in his eyes. “You said we would settle this thing between us ‘tomorrow.’” He placed a hand on her window casement. “It is now ‘tomorrow.’”

At his words, her body whispered needfully that she should move, just a step or two, and then he would be in her bedchamber and all the heated thoughts and late night longing she’d suffered would be sated. But her mind ordered her to stay put, not to be swayed by soft words.

Which was right, her mind or her body? It was torture, this double yearning to do and not to do. Kat clenched her teeth against it all.

His gaze met hers, softly quizzing. “I can’t climb in unless you step back.”

The old fears and questions tumbled back into her mind. “I-I do not know if I should let you in or not.”

“Are you asking my opinion?” His teeth flashed whitely in the uncertain light. “For if you are, I think you should let me in so we can—”

“I’m quite certain I know what you think. I just don’t know what I think.”

“Whatever you decide, you’d best make up your mind quickly. I might fall at any minute. These branches are not very stable.”

He was laughing at her, she could tell. And she didn’t like it one little bit. “Of course, as hard as your head seems to be, one little tumble won’t kill you.”

“Won’t it? Kat, what are you afraid of? You don’t trust anyone of the opposite sex other than your lads and your brother. Meanwhile, you stay here, hiding from the world and anyone who might hurt you.”

He thought she was afraid. How ludicrous! “You are sorely mistaken; I am not afraid. Not of you or anyone else.”

“I see.” He was silent a moment before he said, “What if I just come in long enough for a drink of water?”

“There’s water in the barrel by the barn.”

“Oh.” He leaned on the casement with his free arm, the candlelight smoothing a golden path across his handsome face. “I’ll get some water on my way out. But…I’m also a little chilled.”

“Then you’d best return to your room at Kilkairn.”

He glanced past her to the crackling fire in her room. “But your fireplace doesn’t smoke. What if I just came in long enough to warm myself a bit?”

She crossed her arms and looked at him.