He kept up the attack. “You didn’t appear to be enjoying Randolf’s attentions. What makes you think you would enjoy mine any better?”

Heather felt herself tense nervously as he took a step closer. She had no experience with a man like Sloan McCord. But she knew instinctively, with a woman’s elemental intuition, that she wouldn’t respond to his attentions the same way she had with Evan. This man made her feel hot and shivery inside, with his hard-eyed gaze and his vital maleness. Surrendering to him would be like getting swept up in a dust storm, all heat and power and compelling force.

Deliberately she tried to brace herself for the impact. Heather was aware he was trying to intimidate her. Yet rationally she could understand his actions. Any father worth his salt would be reluctant to entrust his daughter’s care and protection to a woman who’d shown the inadequacy she’d shown today.

But Sloan McCord was wrong about her. And he would learn that attempts at coercion only roused her courage and made her rise to the challenge.

“What makes you think I wouldn’t enjoy them?” she retorted softly.

The taunting smile slipped from his features, and he stared at her hard.

“I guess there’s only one way to find out,” he said finally. His gaze never leaving hers, he tossed his hat on the settee.

His hands rose to grasp her shoulders then, holding her with a featherlight pressure. She could have pulled away had she wished to. Yet she didn’t wish it.

She stood helplessly in his power, transfixed by his mesmerizing eyes. There was something hot and dangerous in those intense depths, something that inexplicably thrilled and excited her.

He moved closer, letting his body touch hers.

The shock was stunning. She felt blistered by his sudden invading heat, by the hard, masculine contours that branded her.

Her heart beat in a wild pulse of alarm and need as he bent his head to her.

Through a daze she heard him whisper against her lips. “You really think you’re woman enough to handle me, duchess?”

She couldn’t answer that; her throat was too dry. Her eyes fluttered shut as his mouth lowered slowly to settle over hers.

His lips were warm and hard, like the man … threatening, dominating … yet somehow gentle. In response, something deep within her body quivered in purely sensual reaction.

His kiss deepened into a bold invasion, his tongue parting her lips and thrusting inside. The intimate intrusion shocked her for an instant. She hadn’t known a man’s kiss could be so blatant, so devastating. Hadn’t known she could respond this way … that she could feel so weak and not… so wanton.