Maggie didn’t know what to say to that, and she wasn’t sure she could trust herself to speak anyway, so she kept her peace. Reeve continued to brush her hair, and when he’d finished, a long time later, he laid aside the brush and, with a tender boldness, cupped his hands over Maggie’s breasts for a moment.

She shivered at the delectable sensations this inspired and then bolted from Reeve’s lap because she knew where such caresses could lead.

“How am I going to leave this wagon without everyone for miles around knowing that I spent the night here?” she demanded in a tone of practical petulance.

Reeve grinned and rose slowly to his feet, standing within inches of Maggie and clearly enjoying the obvious discomfort this caused her. “Not many people will notice, Maggie. Provided you put up your hair, that is, and stop blushing.”

Maggie swallowed hard and then made an involved business of finding her hairpins, which were scattered from one end of Reeve McKenna’s bed to the other. “I wasn’t blushing,” she said, still bent over as she collected the last few pins.

Brazenly, Reeve reached out and caressed her rounded bottom, and heat surged through her. She was ashamed of the knowledge that, should this man kiss her again, should he touch her breasts, she would surely allow him to take her. Right there in broad daylight, on that narrow, rumpled bed.

It was knowing that that made Maggie whirl and slap Reeve McKenna soundly across the face, the blow making a satisfying noise.

Instantly, Reeve caught both her wrists behind her in one of his hands. With the other he stroked her right breast, grinning as he felt the nipple harden beneath its covering of muslin and thin cotton. Still keeping Maggie prisoner by clasping her hands together, he bent and nipped gently at the hidden point with his teeth.

Maggie moaned and closed her eyes. There was no need for Reeve to restrain her; she was powerless to move away. But still he held her, tormenting the other breast with his tongue and his teeth while with his free hand he lifted her skirts. She trembled as she felt the ties of her drawers give way, groaned when Reeve’s hand slid inside to caress her. He left her breast to kiss the length of her neck then, while his fingers remained where they were, fondling, flicking, rolling the nubbin of flesh between them.

“Oh, God,” Maggie gasped as her body suddenly convulsed in a swift, searing spasm of pleasure.

He laughed softly, continuing to stroke Maggie even as she shuddered in the aching aftermath of his small conquering. “If you ever slap me again, Maggie,” he said, gently rolling her earlobe between his teeth “this will be your punishment.”

Maggie could feel the awesome need building within her again and she whimpered, “Oh, no, Reeve, please—not a second time—”