In only a moment, fire exploded where her slick, heated flesh sheathed him. When in the same moment she began to convulse around him once more, his body contracted. He shook violently, shuddering with a pleasure so piercing it was almost unbearable.

In the breathless aftermath, Sloan collapsed, sinking his head on her breast in panting surrender. He could still feel the ripples caressing him.

God, he wanted her still. It would only be a minute before her warmth could make him hard and ready again, but he didn’t want it to be here, like this.

He would take a bath first and wash away the grime of the trail. Then he would take her to bed and do it all over again, slower this time, using his mouth on her breasts, between her legs, till she was hot and wild and sweet and burning up with wanting him.

He raised his head. She looked lush and wanton and well-loved.

“Now that,” he said, a grin playing at one corner of his hard mouth, “was one hell of a welcome. No drawers. Seems like you’re learning to be a proper wife after all.”

She flushed a delicate rose.

Sloan chuckled at the ladylike display. The duchess still hadn’t shed her modesty—but he would work on it.

He kissed her again, refamiliarizing himself with the dark recesses of her mouth. Then, easing away from her, he smoothed down her skirts and helped her to stand. “Why don’t you come upstairs with me and join me in a bath?”

“You want me to bathe with you?” Heather repeated rather weakly.

“It’ll be a tight fit, but the tub’s big enough for two.” He turned and sauntered to the door. Pausing to cast a glance over his shoulder, Sloan smiled, a slow sexual smile that burned right through her. “If we’re lucky, we have another hour till Janna wakes. And that new plumbing cost a fortune. We need to make good use of it if I’m to get my money’s worth.”

Once roundup was over, Sloan had more time to devote to his campaign, and they often discussed the subject over supper. Heather cherished those private moments with him, for it usually meant that he let down his guard.

To her surprise and gratification, though, Sloan earnestly sought her opinions.

“I want your advice,” he said two nights after he’d returned from Denver. “Cat and Jake have offered to host a meeting between cattle ranchers and sheep men to let me present my views on the issues. It might be wise. I’ve made some enemies over the years,” he admitted, “and it would give me a chance to mend some fences.”