Well, he was no prince. Not even close to one. And charming companion or no, he had no plans for staying at Kilkairn longer than the short time he’d intended. But if nothing else, perhaps he could at least give her something to make the next two weeks memorable. Perhaps he could even get her to lower her defenses, show her that trusting was not always painful.

With that thought in mind, before Devon lifted Kat into the saddle, he tilted her face to his and kissed her.

Devon couldn’t remember all the women he’d kissed. Still, it was novel to kiss someone whose mouth was so tantalizingly close to his. He didn’t have to bend down at all.

But what really sealed the kiss as one of the best he’d ever had was Kat’s reaction. She held nothing back, but threw herself into the embrace with her heart and soul.

Her arms crept about his neck, her body molded to his, and her mouth opened, her tongue running over the edge of his teeth and setting his body aflame.

How long he kissed her, he didn’t know. But every stroke of her tongue, every movement of her hips, threatened to send him over the edge. He finally broke the embrace, his breathing harsh, his mind numbed at a flood of demanding lust.

She met his gaze, her own breath quick between her lips. “That was…memorable.”

He laughed. “Yes, it was. Memorable indeed.”

She gave him a smile that was touchingly sweet, then turned and let him assist her into the saddle. He wondered at that smile the entire way back to the cottage.

The truth was, Kat Macdonald fascinated him. She offered an uncomplicated friendship tinged with a taste of passion so wild that he found himself unable to stop thinking about her. Of course, he was certain that once he sampled her passion, she would fade from his mind like all the others. But in the meantime, she offered a unique and fresh challenge, one perfectly suited to his rather jaded palate. One designed to protect him from the treachery of the talisman ring.

When they reached the clearing the lads came pouring out of the workshop. Simon was foremost. He planted himself before Devon. “Where have ye been?”

“Riding,” Devon said calmly, though he was irked to be questioned in such a fashion. He pointed to Thunder and then to Trusty. “On horses.”

Simon’s face reddened. “I knew ye were on horses, ye bas—”

“Simon.” Kat sent him a warning glance from beneath her lashes.

The huge Scotsman pressed his lips together and said nothing more, though if glares could melt a man, then Devon would be a puddle.

One of the other lads growled, “We’ve been worried about ye, Miss Kat.”

“Why?” she asked coolly, dismounting from Thunder without any help at all. “Because you believe I’m not capable of taking care of myself?”