In one lightning-swift movement Reeve swept her up into his arms, then began striding toward the house. “Thank your lucky stars you’re pregnant, Yank,” he raged under his breath, “because if you weren’t, I’d paddle you within an inch of your life!”

Reaching the parlor at the front of the house, he set a kicking and wriggling Maggie in a chair and held her there, one hand on her shoulder. Her good dress was stained with soot from his trousers and shirt.

“Brute!” she spat out, helpless against his strength and his formidable resolve.

“Defy me again and you’ll find out the extent of it!” he retorted, glaring down at her.

“I’ll defy you, all right!” Maggie hissed. “The moment you’re out of sight I’ll do what I want to do!”

Reeve gave a long, ragged sigh. “There’s only one way to manage you, isn’t there, Yank?” he reflected with a shake of his sooty head, and then he pulled her out of the chair and once again hoisted her into his arms.

“What are you doing?” Maggie demanded. This time she didn’t struggle; she knew it was a waste of energy.

“Guess,” Reeve replied, and he carried her, bold as brass, up the front stairway and into their bedroom. There, he tossed her onto the bed and began unbuttoning his shirt.

Maggie was wide-eyed with an untenable combination of fury, surprise, and plain, ordinary desire. “Don’t you dare try to make love to me,” she ordered without real conviction.

Reeve’s flesh, she soon saw, was as sweaty and dirty as his shirt. Apparently unconcerned with such things as personal cleanliness, he unbuckled his belt and opened his trousers.

Sitting up now, Maggie squeezed her eyes shut. “Leave this room right now, Reeve,” she said magnanimously, “and I won’t take you to account for this.”

Reeve chuckled. “That, Yank, is a profound relief.” She heard the belt buckle jingle and then the clunk of boots being kicked aside. “However, I think I’ll risk your terrible revenge. Just this once.”

Maggie opened her eyes and swallowed at the sight of him. He was magnificent, and even her anger at being put in her place in this age-old way wasn’t enough to nullify her wanting of him. “D-do you honestly think, for one minute, that this is g-going to make me pay any m-mind at all to your arbitrary—rules?”

Kneeling on the bed beside her, Reeve tossed up Maggie’s skirts with an arrogance that would have made her scratch his eyes out if she hadn’t needed him so badly. It had, after all, been more than a week since he’d touched her, except to kiss her good night. “Yes,” he answered flatly.

Maggie batted her skirts away from her face, sputtering, as he deftly undid the ties of her drawers. “I’m warning you, Mr. McKenna—”