you? What's the matter? Don't you trust me to look after you in the event you're telling the truth?"
"How can I risk my neck in the hands of a man who doesn't trust me?" she asked bluntly, hazel eyes glittering with repressed anger and frustration.
"Honor... Forget it. Just forget it," he muttered and some of his own frustration and anger began to show through the wall of his self-control.
Was he really that upset about the situation? Honor wondered. If so it was the first indication she'd had that he might be experiencing some inner turmoil over the matter.
But there was so little time left. So little time.
The silence between them lengthened and Honor did nothing to terminate it. Normally she pushed the conversations, often initiating them and keeping them going when Judd became reticent: Tonight she made no effort and Judd didn't seem to know how to take over, although he tried a couple of times.
"Damn it, why aren't you talking to me tonight?" he finally demanded in something close to exasperation. "You're usually chatty enough! You've been getting quieter and quieter all day. Sulking?"
Honor blinked balefully, recognizing that the taunt
was designed to draw some reaction from her. "I guess so. I'm just a spoiled, neurotic brat, remember? I've
probably been too long away from my psychiatrist."
He glared at her and then abruptly threw some money down on the table. "Let's go. We've got a long day ahead of us tomorrow." Reaching down he snapped the beer, her third, out of her hand and yanked her roughly to her feet.
"Mr. Macho " she complained as he strode out of the cantina with her in tow. "Do you always treat your women like this?"
"Only when they've had one too many beers," he gritted, tugging her down the street toward the shack they shared.
"Surely even you wouldn't deny a condemned woman her last beer?" she taunted. "Or are you so cold and unfeeling that you'd do something that mean?" She wasn't drunk, but she was feeling a little light-headed with despair and panic. It was making her reckless and desperate. This was her last night with Judd. Her last chance to turn him from enemy to friend and everything was going wrong.
The reaction to her taunt was more than she had expected. Much more. Judd had let other, similar remarks pass without much more than a verbal warning but tonight his self-control was not as firmly in place as it usually was.
At least that was the only explanation Honor had for what he did next.
"Damn it, Honor Knight" he rasped, jerking her to a halt in front of her cottage and spinning her around to face him 'That's enough out of you! I've had it with your sharp little tongue, do you hear me? You want to find out just how cold I am? I'll show you!"
She had only time enough to recognize the masculine frustration and grim determination in him before she was swept against his chest in a sudden, savage embrace. "Earlier you accused me of not talking enough!" she got out just before his mouth closed over hers. "Now you're saying I've got a sharp tongue. Make up your mind!"
His answer was to seal the remainder of the heated protest deep in her throat. With grim intent he took her mouth, folding her arms behind her back and holding her helpless.
Honor sensed the will to dominate in him, but she also was made violently aware of the depths of his hunger. This wasn't the enraged, irrational lust she had provoked the first night, nor was it the cold, deliberate attempt at seduction which had comprised his second kiss the other morning. Whatever this was, it was real. Deeply sensuous, primitive and real.
The heat in him seemed to flow out to envelop her as he slowly and intently took command of her tips. She could feel the warmth emanating from the whole length of him and the strength in his arms seemed elemental and strangely reassuring.
He was going to make love to her tonight Honor knew it now as surely as she knew the sun would rise tomorrow. There was nothing she could do to stop him and,
"How can I risk my neck in the hands of a man who doesn't trust me?" she asked bluntly, hazel eyes glittering with repressed anger and frustration.
"Honor... Forget it. Just forget it," he muttered and some of his own frustration and anger began to show through the wall of his self-control.
Was he really that upset about the situation? Honor wondered. If so it was the first indication she'd had that he might be experiencing some inner turmoil over the matter.
But there was so little time left. So little time.
The silence between them lengthened and Honor did nothing to terminate it. Normally she pushed the conversations, often initiating them and keeping them going when Judd became reticent: Tonight she made no effort and Judd didn't seem to know how to take over, although he tried a couple of times.
"Damn it, why aren't you talking to me tonight?" he finally demanded in something close to exasperation. "You're usually chatty enough! You've been getting quieter and quieter all day. Sulking?"
Honor blinked balefully, recognizing that the taunt
was designed to draw some reaction from her. "I guess so. I'm just a spoiled, neurotic brat, remember? I've
probably been too long away from my psychiatrist."
He glared at her and then abruptly threw some money down on the table. "Let's go. We've got a long day ahead of us tomorrow." Reaching down he snapped the beer, her third, out of her hand and yanked her roughly to her feet.
"Mr. Macho " she complained as he strode out of the cantina with her in tow. "Do you always treat your women like this?"
"Only when they've had one too many beers," he gritted, tugging her down the street toward the shack they shared.
"Surely even you wouldn't deny a condemned woman her last beer?" she taunted. "Or are you so cold and unfeeling that you'd do something that mean?" She wasn't drunk, but she was feeling a little light-headed with despair and panic. It was making her reckless and desperate. This was her last night with Judd. Her last chance to turn him from enemy to friend and everything was going wrong.
The reaction to her taunt was more than she had expected. Much more. Judd had let other, similar remarks pass without much more than a verbal warning but tonight his self-control was not as firmly in place as it usually was.
At least that was the only explanation Honor had for what he did next.
"Damn it, Honor Knight" he rasped, jerking her to a halt in front of her cottage and spinning her around to face him 'That's enough out of you! I've had it with your sharp little tongue, do you hear me? You want to find out just how cold I am? I'll show you!"
She had only time enough to recognize the masculine frustration and grim determination in him before she was swept against his chest in a sudden, savage embrace. "Earlier you accused me of not talking enough!" she got out just before his mouth closed over hers. "Now you're saying I've got a sharp tongue. Make up your mind!"
His answer was to seal the remainder of the heated protest deep in her throat. With grim intent he took her mouth, folding her arms behind her back and holding her helpless.
Honor sensed the will to dominate in him, but she also was made violently aware of the depths of his hunger. This wasn't the enraged, irrational lust she had provoked the first night, nor was it the cold, deliberate attempt at seduction which had comprised his second kiss the other morning. Whatever this was, it was real. Deeply sensuous, primitive and real.
The heat in him seemed to flow out to envelop her as he slowly and intently took command of her tips. She could feel the warmth emanating from the whole length of him and the strength in his arms seemed elemental and strangely reassuring.
He was going to make love to her tonight Honor knew it now as surely as she knew the sun would rise tomorrow. There was nothing she could do to stop him and,
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