It was perfectly clear that he’d allowed himself to rationalize it for his own needs and, giving her no choice, taken her like a beast rutting in the woods.

He’d sacrificed compassion for passion, kindness for a momentary physical release.

Now he had to face the consequences: her fear of him and his own discarding of his most sacred vow.

He rolled aside, not quite ready to look at her face. He imagined it would be pale, her eyes glazed with fright.

“Rowan …” He cursed himself again. Every apology he could think of had less substance than air.

“Liam.” She sighed it. When she shifted to curl against him, he pulled away abruptly, then rose to go to the window.

“Do you want water?”

“No.” Her body continued to glow as she sat up. She didn’t think to pull the sheets up as she usually did, but sat with them tangled around her legs. As she studied his stiff back, the glow began to fade. Doubts moved in.

“What did I do wrong?”

“What?” He glanced back. Her hair was a tangled mass of rich and gleaming brown around her shoulders, her body, so smooth and white, showed the marks of his hands, of the stubble he’d neglected to shave.

“I thought—well, but obviously I wasn’t … I don’t have any experience with what just happened here,” she said with a faint edge to her voice. “If I did something wrong, or didn’t do something you were expecting, the least you can do is tell me.”

He could only stare. “Are you out of your mind?”

“I’m perfectly rational.” So much so she wanted to bury her head in the pillow, pound her fists on the bed and weep. And scream. “Maybe I don’t know a great deal about sex in practice, but I do know that without communication and honesty, that aspect of a relationship, as any other, is bound to fail.”

“The woman’s giving me a lecture,” he murmured, dragging both hands through his hair. “At such a time she’s giving me a lecture.”

“Fine. Don’t listen.” Insulted, mortally wounded, she climbed out of bed. “You just stay there brooding out the window and I’ll go home.”

“You are home.” He was nearly amused. “It’s your cabin, your bedroom and your bed I just savaged you in.”

“But—” Confused, and with the tattered remains of her shirt dangling from her hand, she focused. It was her bedroom, she realized. The big canopy bed stood between them, her lace curtains fluttered at the window where Liam stood, naked and irritable.

“Well, then.” She clutched her shirt and what was left of her dignity. “You can go.”

“You’ve a right to be angry.”

“I certainly do.” And she wasn’t about to stand there having a crisis without any clothes on. She marched to the armoir and dragged out a robe.