His first surprise had been on arriving. Kat had looked tantalizingly beautiful, even more so than she had before. Perhaps it was the green habit, for it clung to her curves as if painted. Or perhaps it was that her hair was now pinned up, away from her face so that the loveliness of her features was even more evident. Whatever it was, there was something about Kat Macdonald that appealed to him. While Murien might be lovely in the conventional sense, something about Kat whispered of tangled sheets, damp skin, and other deliciously earthy matters.

Even after mulling it through, he could not distinguish what it was about her that made his thoughts instantly turn lascivious. It was not her manner, for she was neither brazen nor suggestive. It was more the curve of her cheek, the plumpness of her lips, the fullness of her hips. They all told Devon that if he was ever fortunate enough to win his way into her highly protected bed, it would be an experience he would never forget.

Which brought about the second surprise of the day—from the moment he saw Kat walking across the clearing toward him, his body reacted. But that was not the end of it. For the rest of the day, all he had to do was rest his gaze on her hips as she rode before him, and his manhood would stiffen instantly.

Never had Devon felt such lust for a woman. But perhaps that was a good thing, for it greatly dimmed his memory of Murien until he scarcely thought of her. He soon found that thinking of another woman around Kat Macdonald was an impossibility; she was so vibrant, so uninhibited, so different from any woman he’d ever met.

The third surprise of the day was less spectacular, but even more perplexing. For all the attraction he felt for Kat, it appeared that it was completely one-sided. He was the one sneaking glances, trying to catch her eye, and feeling bereft when she didn’t notice. She was totally caught up in experiencing Thunder, a fact that Devon found somewhat insulting.

In fact, Kat was so engrossed in the blasted horse that they rode for almost twenty minutes without speaking a word. Devon’s pride was pricked. He wasn’t used to being slighted. And while a part of him acknowledged that it was unintentional and he was probably due his fair share—for God knew he’d danced with numerous young ladies only to promptly forget their names—it didn’t make the experience any less irksome.

Finally, Devon decided he’d had enough. He urged his mount forward a bit until Kat saw him. She blinked as if surprised, and then smiled, her teeth white between her lips.

Devon’s ire evaporated instantly as she pulled up.

She glowed with enthusiasm. “What a lovely horse! Where did you get him?”