Unable to meet Gideon's eyes, she walked haltingly over to the pile of canvas sacks. She stood there at the edge of the makeshift bed, not quite certain what to do next.

Gideon lowered himself to the sacking, his greatcoat swirling around him. Then he reached up to part Harriet's heavy cloak. He found one of her hands, clasped it firmly, and drew her gently but relentlessly down beside him.

By a great effort of will, Harriet managed to maintain what she hoped was some semblance of an outward calm. But her fingers trembled in Gideon's massive hand and she knew he must have felt it. He was kind enough not to tease her, however, acting instead as if nothing untoward was happening.

A moment later he had her curled next to him, her cloak covering her from throat to toe, her head pillowed on the hood. She could feel the heat of his powerful body as he lay close beside her. His warmth enveloped her even through the heavy folds of his greatcoat. It was comforting. Harriet lay very still, watching the shadows thrown onto the cavern walls by the lamp.

"I really am very sorry for the inconvenience, my lord," she murmured once again.

"Go to sleep, Harriet."

"Yes, my lord." She was silent for a moment. "My family will be very worried about me when they discover I am not in my bed tomorrow morning."

"No doubt."

"Do you suppose Mr. Dobbs will inform them that we are in the caves?"

"I am certain your family will soon hear the entire story," Gideon said dryly.

"We shall be able to leave here quite early in the morning," Harriet said on a note of optimism.

"Not nearly soon enough to stop the wheels of fate, Miss Pomeroy." Gideon turned on his side so that he was curved around her. His arm went boldly around her waist. "Not nearly soon enough."

Harriet sucked in her breath when she felt the weight of his arm. But then she realized he was only trying to provide her with added warmth. She relaxed somewhat. "This is a very odd situation, is it not, my lord?"

"Very odd. Try to sleep, Harriet."

She closed her eyes, certain she would not sleep a wink. Then she yawned, nestled a bit closer to Gideon's heat, and drifted off into oblivion.

When she awoke a long while later, Harriet was aware that she had grown cold. She felt Gideon's leg stir alongside her own. Instinctively she edged closer to him, wanting his warmth to ward off the chill. Stiff from lying on her side on the hard floor, she turned onto her other side and found herself face-to-face with Gideon.

She saw at once that his eyes were open. He was watching her with a startling intensity. His gaze gleamed in the flickering shadows of the lamplight. His arm tightened around her waist.

"Gideon?" She smiled tremulously. Still dazed with sleep, she reached out to touch his scarred jaw. "Did I remember to thank you for coming to my rescue tonight?"

He was silent for a moment. And then he levered him self up on his elbow and leaned over her. "I wonder if you will still want to thank me in the morning."

She started to assure him that she would, but there was no chance to speak. He lowered his head and covered her mouth with his own.

Harriet did not hesitate. She put her arms around him and drew him closer, loving the heat and strength in him, wanting more of it. A part of her knew she should be shocked or at the very least deeply offended. A part of her knew she should resist.

But another part of her knew that she had been waiting for Gideon to kiss her again ever since that first embrace here in the cavern.

"I believe you truly are my fate," Gideon whispered against her mouth. "For better or worse, it seems we are to be bound together. Are you going to fight me, Harriet?"

She did not understand. "Why would I wish to fight you?"

"The local people call me the Beast of Blackthorne Hall."

"You are no beast." Harriet touched his face again, savoring the strong, bold lines of his jaw. "You are a man. The most fascinating man I have ever met."

"I'll wager you have not met all that many men." Gideon groaned and pulled her cloak open so that he could kiss her throat.

"It makes no difference." Harriet shivered at the feel of his mouth on her skin. "There is not another man like you in the entire world. I am certain of that. The other night at the assembly when you danced with me, I found myself hoping that the waltz would not end."

"You enjoyed the waltz?" He brushed his mouth across hers.

"Very much."

"I thought so. I could see your pleasure in your eyes. You are a very sensual little creature, Harriet Pomeroy. The waltz was made for you."

"I should very much like to do it again sometime," she said, feeling suddenly breathless.

"I will make a note of that." Gideon peeled back a bit more of her cloak. His hooded, lambent gaze locked with hers as he put his hand on the curve of her breast. He was waiting for her reaction.

Harriet gasped at the shocking intimacy. She knew she really ought to tell him to stop. But she was nearly twenty-five years old, she reminded herself. And this was the first time she had ever known the touch of a man. It would probably be the only time she experienced it. And this was Gideon.

"Well, Harriet?" Gideon's huge hand moved on her with tantalizing tenderness, cupping her, shaping her, stroking gently.

Harriet's tongue touched the corner of her mouth. She could not find words to respond. Her pulse was pounding and a heavy liquid warmth was flowing somewhere deep within her. She put her arms around his neck and kissed him with a passion that seemed to explode out of nowhere.

Gideon needed no further urging. The cool restraint that had characterized his actions thus far dissolved in an instant. He swept aside her cloak and began undoing the tapes of her gown.

"Harriet. My sweet, trusting Harriet," he whispered hoarsely against her throat as he slid the bodice down to her waist. "You have sealed your own fate tonight."

She did not understand his cryptic words and she was too busy coping with the flood of new sensations coursing through her to ask him what he meant. Harriet only knew that what was happening was somehow meant to be. It was something she wanted. Something she could not avoid. Something she longed—no, needed—to experience.

She was cold where the air touched her bare skin and then she was warm again because Gideon was lying on top of her. More than warm. She was hot. Hotter than she had ever been in her life. The weight of him was incredibly arousing. All her senses responded to it.

Gideon shrugged impatiently out of his greatcoat, revealing the long, white shirt that was all he wore underneath. Dark, crisp hair curled on his broad chest. The thick mat angled downward. Harriet caught a glimpse of his taut, hard manhood and she froze.

"Gideon?"

"You must trust me," Gideon said in a dark, husky voice that betrayed his desire as surely as his body did. He arranged the greatcoat over them both so that his aroused body was no longer visible. "You no longer have any choice but to trust me. Look at me, my sweet Harriet."

She met his eyes and saw the stark need in him. She had never seen blatant need in a man's gaze before, but she recognized it instantly. And she saw something else as well. A deep wariness and a grim determination lit his eyes. It was as if he was bracing himself for some pain that he knew was bound to come.

Harriet smiled softly. "I trust you, Gideon."

He groaned and bent his head to kiss her breast with reverent care. Her fingers tightened on his shoulders. This feeling was beyond anything, Harriet thought. She felt Gideon's big hand sliding down, pushing the gown over her hips and completely off, freeing her completely to his touch. Harriet trembled beneath the rough gentleness of his fingers.

His palm was on the inside of her thigh now, stroking upward to the core of the liquid fire that seemed to burn within her. But when he actually dipped one large finger into that fire, opening her, she cried out in shock.