Forbidden Love by Karen Robards

redder, I wouldn’t be surprised if someone didn’t mistake you for a fire and throw a bucket of water over you.”
    The sardonic voice won him another quick look. Justin released his breath on a long, drawn-out sigh when her eyes fluttered away from him again.
    “For God’s sake, Megan, you’re making me feel like a first-class swine. Can’t you even look at me?” The roughness of his voice brought her eyes up to his at last. He read both defiance and shame in their violet depths. With her black hair tumbling down her back in wayward curls, her slender figure clad in the black riding habit, she was a study in black and white silhouetted against the weathered gray wood of the stalls. “I’ve said I’m sorry,” he continued in the same harsh tone. “What more do you want?”
    The only sign of her agitation was the clenching of her hands. “Please don’t play the gentleman and apologize,” she said, so low that he had to strain to hear. “You know as well as I do that the blame is mine.”
    Justin’s mouth tightened. “Don’t be absurd! The whole regrettable incident is entirely my fault. You are not to blame in any way. Do you understand?”
    Her huge eyes were made even larger with shame. “Please—I don’t want to talk about it any more,” she said, hanging her head and turning slightly away from him. Justin choked back an impatient curse and moved cumbrously until he stood directly behind her.
    “Megan.” His voice had gentled. “Megan, you’re a very beautiful girl, and when you kissed me—a very proper kiss from a very proper young lady to her not so proper guardian—I lost my head. It was my behavior that was at fault, not yours. You did absolutely nothing of which you need be ashamed.”
    She looked very small and defenseless with her bowed head and her slim back turned to him. There was something about the erect way she held her spine, about the shamed yet gallant stance of her, that touched him profoundly. He clenched his teeth as he fought down the urge to stroke the thick profusion of curls that cascaded down her back.
    “I kissed you back.”
    Again he had to strain to hear her. “What?”
    “I said, I kissed you back.” At last she turned around to face him, squaring her shoulders proudlyas she refused to allow him to claim responsibility for the fault which she knew was hers.
    He shut his eyes briefly. When he opened them again, he reached for her, not able to help himself. Still, there was very little of the sexual in the way he pulled her resisting body against his, enfolding her with his free arm, tenderly stroking her silky hair. His intention was to comfort and protect; Megan, sensing this, gradually let her body relax against his until her face was hidden in his chest.
    “Of course you kissed me back. All the ladies do. I’ll have you know that I’m held to be a very good kisser.”
    The intentional lightness of his reply was calculated to still the convulsive shudders that ran lightly over her skin. Her arms found their way around his waist, and she clung to him. Justin, without in the least meaning to, bent his head so that his face was buried in the shining sweetness of her hair.
    “You are,” he thought he heard her murmur.
    “I am what?” he asked absently, absorbed in the tantalizing scent and feel of her. Against his will, he found himself caught up again in the mystical web of wanting, the physical attraction she held for him increased a hundredfold by the heart-shaking memory of her previous response. With one dim part of his mind he realized that touching her again had been a monumental mistake, but it was one that it was too late to do anything about. He couldn’t have released her now if he had tried.
    “You are a very good kisser,” she said distinctly, her head tilting back so that she could look up at him. Justin saw the uncertain smile that trembled on the rosy fullness of her lips, and knew that he was lost. He bent his head, moving with conscious