He stopped and looked uncomfortable. He wasn’t about to start chasing monsters from under the bed and dragging them out of the closet in front of Meredith. Sarah loved the pretend housecleaning and he’d grown used to doing it to amuse her, but a man had to have his secrets. He cleared his throat. “When I walk Meredith to her car, okay?”

That pacified Sarah. She smiled. “Okay, Daddy.” She looked at Meredith. “He kills the monsters every night so they won’t hurt me. He’s very brave and he weighs one million pounds!”

Meredith glanced at Blake and her face went red as she tried to smother laughter. He glared at her, breaking the spell. She rushed out into the hall and kept going.

He caught up with her downstairs and walked her out onto the porch.

“I’m sorry Amie involved you,” he said curtly. “Bess would have kept Sarah.”

“Bess and Bobby were going out,” she replied. “I didn’t mind.”

“You didn’t want to come here, though, even while I was away,” he said perceptively. “You don’t care for this house very much, do you?”

“Not anymore,” she said. “It brings back some painful memories.” She moved away from him, but he followed.

“Where’s your car?” he asked, searching for it.

“I walked. It was a beautiful night and it’s only a short walk.”

He glared down at her from his superior height. In his gray suit and pearl-colored Stetson, he looked enormously tall and imposing. He never seemed to smile, she thought, searching his hard features in the light that shone from the windows onto the big, long porch.

“If you’re looking for beauty, you won’t find it,” he said, his mouth twisting into a mocking smile. “The scar only makes it worse.”

She gazed at it, the long white line that marred his lean cheek all the way from his high cheekbone to his jaw. “I remember when you got it,” she said quietly. “And how.”

His expression became grim. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“I know.” She sighed gently, her eyes searching over his dark face with more poignancy than she knew. “But you were always handsome to me, scar and all,” she mused, turning away as the memories came flooding back. “Good night…Blake!”

He’d whipped her around, his lean hands biting into her arms. She was wearing a sleeveless lemon yellow blouse with her jeans, and it made her skin look darker than it was. Where his fingers held her, the flesh went white from the pressure.

“I…” He eased his hold a little, although he didn’t release her. “I didn’t mean to do that.” He drew in a silent breath. “I don’t suppose you’ll ever get over the fear I caused you in the past, will you?” he added, watching her eyes widen, her body stiffen.

“It was my first intimacy,” she whispered, flushing. “And you made it…you were very rough.”

“I remember,” he replied. His pride fought him when he tried to tell her the truth, although he wanted to. He wanted to make her understand his roughness.

“As you said, it was a long time ago,” she added, pulling against his hold gently.

“Not that long. Five years.” He searched her eyes. “Meredith, surely you’ve dated men. There must have been one or two who could stir you.”

“I couldn’t trust them,” she said bitterly. “I was afraid to take a chance with anyone else.”

“Most men aren’t as rough as I am,” he replied coldly.

Her breath was sighing out like a whisper. He made her nervous, and the feel of his hands was affecting her breathing. “Most men aren’t as much a man as you are,” she breathed, closing her eyes as forgotten sensations worked down her spine and made her ache.

His pride burned with what she’d said. Did she think him masculine, handsome? Or was that all in the past, part of the love he’d killed?

He drew her closer and held her against him warmly but chastely, her legs apart from his. He didn’t want her to feel how aroused he already was.

“I’m not much gentler now than I used to be, Meredith,” he said deeply, as his head bent toward her. “But I’ll try not to frighten you this time….”

She opened her mouth to protest, but his lips met hers. They probed her soft mouth while his lean, strong hands slid up to frame her face.

She stiffened, but only for a minute. The taste of him made her dizzy with pleasure. She liked what he was doing to her too much to protest. After a minute she relaxed, letting his mouth do what it wanted to hers.

“God, it’s sweet,” he whispered roughly, biting at her lips with more instinct than expertise. His voice was shaking and he didn’t care if she heard it. “Oh, God, it’s so sweet!”

His mouth ground into hers and his arms slid completely around her. He pulled her body up against his so that his legs touched hers, and he felt her sudden shocked tautness.

He let her move away, his eyes glittering, his breath rustling out of his throat. “I shouldn’t have done that,” he said gruffly. “I didn’t mean to let you feel how aroused I was.”

Having him mention it shocked her more than the feel of his body, but she tried not to let him see her reaction. She stepped back, touching her mouth with light fingers. Yes, it had been sweet, as she’d heard him whisper feverishly. Just as it had been five years ago in the stable, when he’d put his mouth on hers and she’d ached to have him touch her.

“I have to get back to Bess’s house,” she said unsteadily.

“Just a minute.” He took her hand and pulled her farther into the light. He held her gaze so that he could see the fear mingled with desire that lingered in her eyes, the swollen softness of her mouth.

“What are you looking for?” she asked huskily.

“You’re still afraid of me,” he said, his jaw going taut.

“I’m sorry.” She lowered her eyes to his chest, to its quick, hard rise and fall. “I can’t help it.”

“Neither can I,” he replied bitterly. He let her go, turning away. “I’m not much good at lovemaking, if you want the truth,” he said through his teeth.

That was true. He had the patience, but not the knowledge. Nina had taught him a few things, but she’d been indifferent to his touch and her response to him had always been just lukewarm. She hadn’t known he was innocent, but she had known he was inexperienced, and at the end of their relationship she’d taunted him with his lack of expertise. It was one of the things he hated remembering. Better to let Meredith think he was brutal than to have her know how green he was.

Watching him, Meredith was surprised by the admission. She’d always considered him experienced. If he wasn’t, it would explain so much.

Suddenly, she understood his fierce pride a little better. She went closer to him, reaching out to lightly touch his sleeve. He jerked a little, as if that impersonal contact went through him like fire.

“It’s all right, Blake,” she said hesitantly.

He looked down at the slender hand that rested lightly on his sleeve. “I’m like a bull in a china shop,” he said unexpectedly, looking into her eyes. “With women.”

She felt a surge of emotion at that rough admission. He’d never been more approachable than he was right now. Part of her was wary of him, but another part wanted once, just once, to give in without a fight.

She went up on her tiptoes and pulled his head down to hers. He stiffened and she stopped dead.

“No!” he whispered huskily when she started to draw back in embarrassment. “Go ahead. Do what you want to.”

She couldn’t believe that he really wanted her to kiss him, but he was giving every indication that he did. She didn’t know a lot about it, either, since all she’d ever done with men was kissing.

She drew her lips lightly over Blake’s hard ones, teasing them gently. Her breath shook at his mouth while she held his head within reach, but she didn’t relent. Her fingers slid into the thick, cool hair at the nape of his strong neck and her nails slid against his skin while her mouth toyed softly with his.