Bliss hoped that the shadows slashing through the moonlight would hide her heated face. “That was a perfectly reprehensible remark,” she protested.

“Aye, but it’s true,” Jamie replied. He let his head fall back and Bliss was sure that his eyes were closed.

She settled back on her pillows, sighing and giving a great yawn. And then she waited, with infinite patience, for the sound of snoring.

It never came, although, after a while, Jamie’s breathing was deep and rhythmic. Still, Bliss waited.

Finally, when at least an hour had passed, she sat up. “Jamie?” she whispered. “Are you awake?”

There was no answer.

She tried again. “Jamie?”

Silence.

Cautiously, Bliss slipped off the bed. Her coat and satchel were downstairs, in the kitchen. If she could just get past this one man, asleep in his rocking chair, she would get away. By sunset, at the latest, she would be in Auckland.

She walked as silently as a ghost, afraid to breathe, and finally reached the door. Her hand was just curving around the knob when she felt two arms close around her middle.

Jamie’s voice was a hoarse rush of warmth moving past her ear. “Duchess, for shame. What am I going to do with you?”

It was not being caught in the act of escaping that made Bliss’s heart catch in her throat, but the way that Jamie was holding her. Her face ached with burning embarrassment.

She drew a deep breath, entangled in her lie and determined to extricate herself gracefully. “I assure you that my errand was entirely innocent,” she lied. “As you are well aware, nature makes certain demands—”

“I’ve thought of nothing else for most of the night,” Jamie pointed out, but he released her.

Bliss’s knees had weakened, so that it was almost more than she could do to stand on her own. Her cheeks flamed. “I suppose you’re going to escort me to the outhouse,” she said stiffly, turning, with a regal tilt of her chin, to face her captor.

He gestured grandly with one hand. “If you’d rather use the chamber pot, be my guest,” he said.

Bliss was outraged. She moved to kick Mr. McKenna soundly in the shin, but he anticipated the attack and stepped aside. His body was as fluid as molten gold; Bliss had never seen anyone move so quickly and yet with such grace.

“I’ll repay you for your—kindness, Mr. McKenna,” she promised him evenly, “if it takes the rest of my days.”

He laughed. “You’re a feisty little thing. I’m going to miss you after I drop you off in Wellington. I am indeed.”

Again, Bliss’s fury overtook her good sense. She stepped back, believing herself to be out of his reach, and lifted her foot to kick him. This time, she wasn’t aiming for his shin.

Before her delicate little shoe could make lethal contact, however, Jamie had grasped her by the inside of her upraised knee, holding her off balance for an instant and then, in another of his lightning movements, thrusting her close to him. Not even their kiss had been as intimate as the way they were touching now.