Had he plunged a knife in her heart, he couldn’t have hurt her more. It still hurt—though surprisingly, she hadn’t thought about him in recent weeks. Even more surprising, she couldn’t remember James’s kisses affecting her as much as Chase’s.

She drew in her breath. When had this happened? When had the man, the stranger she’d accidentally married, stolen her heart? When had the ranch she’d once had an aversion to become the home she now loved?

Pulling the towel away from her face, she tried to still her pounding heart. He’d kissed her, but the promise in his eyes, on his lips, in his voice, had made it clear he wouldn’t stop there. He wanted her every bit as much as she wanted him, and her body shivered with anticipation.

Such was her joy that she didn’t want to think about how she was living on the edge of an emotional cliff. If she acted on her feelings, she would have to tell him the truth, tell him that she was the niece of the man who had put his ranch in jeopardy. Tell him…

She closed her eyes. Tell him that she was as much to blame as her uncle. Knowing she was about to lose everything yet a second time, she sank to the floor on bended knee.

* * *

Chase came home late that night. Emily had just about given up on him when the bedroom door flew open. She jumped and dropped her hairbrush.

He closed the door behind him. “Sorry,” he said. “I thought you’d be asleep by now. Didn’t mean to startle you.”

She clutched at the opening of her dressing gown. For the past several hours, she had rehearsed what to say to him. Before they took things any further, he had the right to know the truth of who she was. But the moment he’d stepped through the door, all reason and good intentions had left her. All she could think about was being back in his arms.

He was still bare-chested, and his bronzed skin gleamed beneath the gas lamp’s soft light. Though she tried her best not to stare, her eyes had a mind of their own. Just his presence made her heart race. Her knees threatened to cave, and a quiver surged through her veins.

He appraised her, his eyes filled with longing. “Is Rusty—?”

“He’s okay,” she stammered.

A look of relief crossed his face. “Good to hear.”

“Are…are the cattle all right?” she asked.

He nodded. “Took us a while, but we finally got them settled.”

“That’s…that’s g-good news,” she stammered.

He pulled off his hat and tossed it on a chair. “We need to talk.”

Not sure what to make of his serious tone, Emily swallowed hard. Had she read too much into his kiss? Had she misinterpreted what had transpired between them?

“What happened…” he began slowly.

She held her breath, but he didn’t complete his sentence. Didn’t utter the words when we kissed, and for that, she was grateful. Just being in his presence made it hard to think straight.