And her hands reached for him, cupped his face, guided his mouth once again to hers as they gently slid over.

“Michael,” she said again.

“I can’t keep my hands off you.”

“I don’t want you to.”

But he’d seen bruises on that delicate skin as she’d slept. “I was rough with you last night.”

“Did I forget to thank you for it?”

He lifted his head, grinned. “I guess screaming my name ten or twelve times was thanks enough.”

“Well, then.” She pushed his hair back from his face, and her eyes were sober. “I don’t ever want to be treated like some fragile piece of glass. Not ever again.”

“So if I want to break out the cuffs and whips, you’re game?”

Her mouth fell open in speechless shock. “I—I—”

“I’m kidding.” Christ, what a package she was, he thought on a roar of laughter. And all his. On a spurt of delight, he got to his feet and picked her up. “At least until we’ve established trust.”

“You don’t really—I mean, I don’t think I could, or would like . . .” When he laughed so hard he nearly dropped her, she lifted her chin. “I don’t care to be the butt of your sick joke.”

“It wasn’t that sick, and, sugar, you’ve got a first-class butt.” He planted a loud, smacking kiss on her mouth. “But since I doubt you want to stroll back to the house showing it off, let’s go get you some clothes.”

“I’d appreciate it if you would—what are you doing?” She all but squeaked it as he carried her out of the stall.

“Taking you upstairs to get you something to put on.”

“You can’t just cart me outside this way. I’m naked. We’re naked. Michael, I mean it—Oh, my God.” Sunlight and cool morning air slapped her as he stepped through the stable door.

“It’s early,” he said easily. “No one’s around yet.”

“We’re naked.” It was all she could say as he started up the stairs. “We’re standing outside naked.”

“Looks like it’s going to be a hell of a day, too. You got anything on for tonight?”

“I—” Didn’t he understand that they were standing on his little porch in the full light of day, buck naked? “Get me inside.”

“Chilly? I’m working on it.” He shifted her and managed the doorknob.

The insult, she fumed. The insensitivity. The outrageous-ness of it. “Put me down.”

“Sure.” He set her obligingly on her feet and waited for the show to begin. She didn’t disappoint him.

“Are you out of your mind? What if one of the girls had looked out the window and seen us?”

“It’s not even six in the morning. Do they usually stare out the window at dawn, with binoculars?”