"Tamsin."

"Yes."

"You're sure?"

"Yes, damn it," she cried. "Yes!"

He didn't hesitate. With a swiftness that both thrilled and terrified her, he responded to her need with a naked hunger of his own. With a sound more growl than groan, he thrust a hand beneath her skirts. Lean, callused fingers moved up her leg and thigh, scorching her skin with a welcome fire.

She arched under him, spreading her legs for his touch, thrilling to his weight and the hard proof of his arousal pressed against her heated flesh.

His kiss devoured her, and she reveled in the taste and texture of him. Wholeheartedly, she gave as good as she got, kissing him as she'd never kissed another man. But as wonderful as this was, it wasn't enough. She kneaded and caressed his neck and shoulders, caught his lower lip between her teeth, and shuddered at the wild sensations that shattered her reason and dared her to act on her innermost fantasies.

Ash's head moved lower. He kissed and bit her neck and the hollow of her throat, then buried his face between her breasts, all the while stroking and pinching her inner thighs. "Is this what you want?" he asked. "And this?"

"Yes, yes," Tamsin urged him. She'd sensed a smoldering passion in Ash that matched her own hidden desires. She'd imagined what it might be like to have him make love to her, but she hadn't dared to believe it could come true.

Reality was better than her fantasies.

Tamsin was conscious of a throbbing ache and a growing moisture between her legs that both shocked and aroused her. Sex with her husband had been an uncomfortable duty. What was happening here in this lonesome cabin was wild and primal and wonderful.

Ash fumbled with his trousers, and she gasped as his swollen member pressed against her bare thigh. She knew that any decent woman would put a stop to this, but she couldn't. Brazenly, she reached down to touch him, and her eyes widened as she brushed the tumescent length.

He was so hot… so alive. All virile male, she thought, and she had never felt so feminine.

Ash groaned again. "I want you wet for me," he murmured. "Wet and silky sweet." Then he probed the source of her need with one long finger.

"You're wicked," she whispered hoarsely. The feel of him inside her was maddening. She bucked against him, feeling herself nearing the delicious brink of some great precipice.

"Am I?" He tantalized her with two fingers and chuckled. "I can be even worse."

She clenched her teeth to keep from crying out with pleasure, and heard the sound of fabric tearing. Then Ash's mouth closed on her breast. "Oh…"

Hungrily, he licked and sucked her nipple, worrying at her breast until she could not contain her growing hunger. "Please," she begged him.

"Please, what? Do you want me to stop?"

"No." She groaned. "Don't stop."

"Tell me what you want me to do, Tamsin," he whispered. "Do you want this?" He pressed himself into her hand, filling it and making bolts of flame sear up her spine.

"Yes, yes," she gasped.

She waited for his thrust, but to her surprise, he braced himself with his hands and lowered his head. She felt the length of his hair brush against the sensitive skin of her inner thigh and she caught her breath. He wouldn't! He didn't mean to-

"Oh!" She dug her fingers into his shoulders.

"You're sweet, Tamsin, sweet as wild honey," he murmured.

Her eyes widened as ripples of tantalizing pleasure rolled through her. "What are… you… Oh!"

She thrashed her head from side to side, unable to lie still, unable to think. His mouth was on her. His tongue teasing, licking… driving her to the point of no return.

He clamped a hand over her mouth to stifle her cry as she reached the peak and tumbled off into nothingness amid a shimmering rainbow of iridescent colors. The earth fell away beneath her as she drifted in delicious waves of rapture.

She hardly realized that he'd turned over onto his back and lifted her so that she was astride him. "Now it's your turn to do the work," he said.

It seemed the most natural thing in the world to settle over him, opening for his deep, full thrust. There was barely an instant of hesitation on her part as she adjusted to the odd but pleasant experience of being in control. Then she moved with him, giving and taking, letting her primeval instincts take control until her passion rose again with an even greater heat.

This time Tamsin held back her climax until Ash reached his. His stifled moan of satisfaction was all she needed to push her over the edge again. Knowing that she had pleased him was an added happiness to her own fulfillment. And this time was no disappointment. She clung to him while her mind spun out into the heavens and her body convulsed with pure physical joy.

For long minutes they lay together, still joined, sheened with sweat and utterly spent. Then he turned on his side so that she curled beside him, fitting perfectly into the curve of his shoulder.

"Is it always like that for you?" she asked.

He chuckled and kissed her lower lip tenderly. "No, but then I've never made love to a Tennessee woman before. I can see what I've been missing." He brushed the tangled hair away from her face. "You're something, Tamsin MacGreggor. With talents like yours, why the hell did you take up a life of crime?"

She was too contented to argue with him. "It wasn't like this with my husband," she said shyly. "I've never been with anyone else."

"This is a hell of a time to discover you like it."

"Are you complaining?"

"Hell, no." He sighed and lifted her hand to his lips. Gently, he kissed her palm and the place at her wrists where her veins showed blue. "Have I ever told you how beautiful you are?"

She averted her eyes. "Don't," she begged him. "Don't say what you don't mean. I know what I am. I'm too big and too tall to-"

"Hush…" He covered her mouth with a forefinger. "You've skin like milk where the sun hasn't dusted you with freckles. You've breasts to drive a man to drink, and hips meant to give pleasure."

"My chin is too firm," she replied. "And my mouth-"

"Your mouth is perfect for kissing." To prove his point, he kissed her love-swollen lips. "If you were a lady of fortune, you'd be rich in-"

"But I'm not, Ash," she said, suddenly sounding serious. "I'm a backsliding Methodist, and what we've done will have me on my knees praying for forgiveness, if I live long enough."

He pushed back and studied her rosy cheeks and troubled eyes. "You think what we've done is a sin?"

"Isn't it?"

"Who are we hurting? My wife is dead, and so is your husband. Considering the circumstances, I'd say we've not strayed so far from the path of righteousness."

"Don't make a joke of this," she said. "What we did- what I did, I chose to do. All my life I've tried to follow the teachings of the church. I've fed the poor, and I've tended the sick. Until I came to Colorado, I never stole so much as an apple from someone else's orchard. Now I'm a horse thief and a murderer."

He tensed. "You admit killing Sam Steele?"

"No! Not him," she insisted. "But I did kill an Indian, maybe two. Three if you count the one Dancer stomped on. And now I've just slept with a man not my husband."

He chuckled. "Since the Cheyenne were trying to murder you, I hardly think that counts against you with the Man above."

"But I did sleep with…"

"Honey, we weren't doing much sleeping. Are you sorry?"

She shook her head. "No, I'm not. If I burn in hell for what-"

He silenced her with a kiss. "If taking comfort from each other is a sin, it must be a small one."

"Comfort?" she asked in a small voice. "Was that what it was for you?"

He stroked her hair and raised a lock of it to brush his lips. "Red as a mountain sunset," he murmured. "You're a hard one, Tamsin. You back a man against a rock and give him no place to run."