Zach’s eyes followed her every move as she pulled back on the reins. When she was close enough to hear, he said, “You should go back.”

“Back to Montana?”

“Back to the house.”

“Not yet.” She slid to the ground and Zach followed suit. Eyebrows drawn downward, his mouth pulled into a furious frown, he strode up to her, looking as if he’d like to strangle her…or worse, that he wanted to kiss her and never stop.

“For Christ’s sake-”

“No. For mine. For yours,” she said, breathing hard. She stared up at him stubbornly, squaring her shoulders and meeting his furious gaze with her own.

“You never listen, do you?”

“Not when it’s something I don’t want to hear.” She felt the spray of the waterfall, cool against her neck, and heard the roar of the water tumbling fifty feet to the rocky bottom of the canyon. She stood toe-to-toe with him, refusing to back down, silently challenging him with her eyes.

“You have no idea what you’re asking,” he said hoarsely.

“Tell me.”

He stared at her long and hard, his eyes narrowing in the lowering sunlight, his breath fogging in the cool mountain air. “You never give up,” he said and his voice sounded tortured, as if he was battling with himself and losing the war. Reluctantly he pushed an errant black curl from her face.

“No reason to.”

“There are lots of reasons, Adria.”

“None that I want to hear.” She held her head high, angling her chin, daring him to argue, feeling the breeze tangle in her hair.

His gaze fastened to hers and held, causing her heart to trip in anticipation. Raw, unbridled passion glowed dark in his eyes as he looked down at her. Adria’s chest was suddenly tight, as if bound by steel cords, and she wondered fleetingly if he was right, if chasing him into the forest was so clever after all. She wanted him, yes, probably loved him, but being with him was treacherous and deadly, for she never seemed to get enough.

As if reading her thoughts, he struck, quickly wrapping his strong fingers around the back of her neck and pulling her roughly to him, kissing her until she couldn’t catch her breath. His free arm circled her waist, dragging her willing body closer still, so that she could feel the thunderous beat of his heart, the thick evidence of his desire straining at his fly. He smelled of leather and sweat and tasted of coffee laced with liquor. A slow-burning heat from deep inside her spread throughout her body.

His hands splayed across her back, possessively, angrily crushing her breasts against the hard wall of his chest.

Winding her arms around his neck, she gave herself to him, refusing to listen to any lingering doubts in her mind. She opened her mouth to him as she would willingly open her body.

She clung to him as he dragged her to the ground, pulling her with him, dropping to the bed of dry grass and leaves scattered over the forest floor. He spread kisses along her neck and over her eyes and twisted her hair in his fists. “You’re sure?” he asked, his voice breathless and dry as the wind racing through the trees.

“I want this, Zach,” she said, staring deep into his eyes. “I want you.”

He hesitated but she pressed her lips to his and all his defenses tumbled down. She knew why he was reticent-he still believed they were half-brother and-sister, but she was certain there was a mistake. Surely they couldn’t be related. She wouldn’t believe it; she wouldn’t fall in love with her own half-brother. Most people thought he’d been fathered by Anthony Polidori and he looked so much more like the Italian than Witt. This was right! So right! He nuzzled her neck and she lolled her head back, offering him more.

His fingers found the buttons to her blouse and the clasp of her bra and soon she was stripped to the waist, her breasts bare, her dark nipples puckering in the cool air, her body heated by the inner fire that swept through her blood.

His hands were rough but magical as he reached around her and traced the valley of her spine. Pleasure rippled through her body and she held onto his shoulders as if for life.

Love me, Zachary, she silently cried.

His fingers dipped beneath the waistband of her jeans, stripping her of the unwanted denim and leaving her in a scant pair of panties. She moaned as he took her breast between his lips and her own hands moved to the front of his shirt, tearing at the buttons, feeling the springy, dark hair of his chest as her fingers grazed the strident muscles of his shoulders, the flat buttons of his nipples.

He moaned loudly-a primeval sound that made her quiver.

“Adria,” he whispered hoarsely as he gazed down at her.

She held a finger to his lips. “Don’t,” she whispered and a coil of warmth whirled in her midsection when he drew her finger between his teeth and sucked. Wet. Hungry. Hot.

Heat coiled at her center, pulsing and liquid, as he continued to stare at her.

Her throat was tight and the moist darkness between her legs began to throb with desire. She wanted him, all of him, regardless of the consequences. Gaze fastened to hers, he slipped his hands lower, along the rift of her buttocks until she was squirming, her body silently pleading for more.

“You’re sure?” he asked and his pupils had nearly obscured the gray of his eyes. Above him, clouds scudded across the sky.

“Yes!”

“This could be wrong.” Doubts shadowed his eyes and his fingers dug deeper into her flesh.

“Never,” she whispered, guiding his head back to hers until his breath fanned her face. “Love me, Zach,” she whispered, casting caution to the wind and closing her ears to the demons that screamed in her mind. “Love me and forget about everything else.”

His throat worked and then the wind seemed to shift. Kissing her, he ran his fingers along her body, and beneath the silk of her panties. Lowering his head, he nibbled at her skin and lowered himself. His tongue slid around the circle of her navel and she bucked upward, wanting more, wanting him-all of him.

He slid lower still and she thought she would die when he stripped her of her panties and breathed hot and damp against the curls at the apex of her legs. Squirming, writhing, she felt him touch her, slowly at first and then more quickly, causing her to melt inside.

“Zachary,” she whispered hoarsely.

“Not yet,” he whispered and guided one of her hands to his fly. With a hiss, it lowered, and she slowly pushed his jeans over his slim hips. With anxious fingers she caressed his buttocks, and felt the muscles of his legs flex at her touch. She ran her fingers up the flatness of his abdomen and felt him suck in his breath.

Heat flowed from his body to hers.

“You’re sure about this,” he said again when they were naked and breathing hard, their bodies slick with sweat, nerves strung tight in anticipation.

In answer she kissed him and he moved atop her, his strong hands holding her arms over her head, his eyes burning with a pulsing desire that seared into her soul.

He kissed her again and then roughly, as if he were fighting and losing an inner struggle, he prodded her legs apart. She lifted her hips off the ground as he drove into her and she felt his manhood, heavy and thick, break through the barriers of their lives and delve deep into the core of her soul.

She closed her eyes, but he kissed her cheek. “Watch me,” he said hoarsely. “We can’t forget that this is happening. We can’t ever forget.” His words were like the prophecy of doom, but she stared up at him and moved with his sweet, hungry rhythm. There was no pause, no minute to catch her breath. He pushed into her harder and harder, faster and faster, until the colors behind her eyes began to blend and whirl.

She was moist and warm, like thick, hot honey, and she felt him gather steam just as something erupted within her.

“Adria, oh, sweet, sweet Adria!” His voice, a raspy whisper, bounced off the walls of the canyons and the chambers of her heart. Lights exploded behind her eyes and her body convulsed around him, holding him tight within her as if she was afraid to lose the precious link they’d found, the ecstasy of loving each other. Her throat worked.

Love me, she silently cried, wrapping her arms around him as he fell against her, his sweating body melding perfectly to hers. Love me, Zachary Danvers, and don’t ever stop.

Tears touched the back of her eyes-from joy or relief, she didn’t know-but she refused to give in to the persistent drops and wouldn’t think about tomorrow.

It would come soon enough.

22

“Tell me about my mother.” Adria, shivering as the afterglow faded, stared up at the swaying, long-needled branches of the pines to the blue sky beyond. A few filmy clouds moved slowly through the heavens but didn’t spoil the day.

Beside her, Zach tensed. “I didn’t know your mother.” He reached for his faded Levi’s and slid into them. “She lived in Montana with you.”

“My other mother,” she clarified, refusing to let him vex her, but she wasn’t going to let him put her off as he had in the past. They were lovers now-they could share everything. “Katherine.” The ground was cold and goose bumps rose on her flesh as she found her jeans and sweater.

After making hot, furious love to her, Zachary had held her against his naked body. She’d seen the scar on his shoulder, been reminded of the night that London had disappeared and had convinced herself that she couldn’t be related to him. Either he was Polidori’s son or she wasn’t London Danvers. Now, as her mind cleared, she wasn’t so certain.

He seemed more remote than ever, as if the shock of what they’d done had been a slap of reality-cold water in his face.

“Katherine wasn’t your mother,” he said with conviction.

“You don’t know that.”

That much was true, Zach thought as he yanked on his boots. He had to get away, far away. Being with her was like being trapped in a seductive spider’s web, sticky and warm and exciting but infinitely dangerous. Whether she’d decided to make love to him because she suddenly didn’t believe they could be related, or because she thought he would let down his defenses and give her more information about the family, or because she wanted to blackmail him later, or, God forbid, because her motives were pure and she was falling for him, he knew it just couldn’t happen. He should have been stronger. Ever since Kat, he’d been in control and had never let a woman seduce him. He’d always been the predator. His will where sensual women were concerned had been strong. Until now. With Adria. He ground his teeth together in disgust and stood, swiping at the dust covering his jeans.

He’d been unable to resist her-the defiance in her blue eyes, the challenging tilt of her chin, her soft, sensual lips, and the provocative invitation that touched him in a deep, roughly animal place, where his body took over and his mind shut down. He’d wanted sex. With her. Lusty, hot, get-your-rocks-off sex, and he’d ended up with more. Too much. An emotional whirlpool that threatened to drag him under.

Just like Kat!

He slammed his eyes shut and told himself it was just a matter of time. If he could maintain some distance from that body of hers, he could stay in control. At least until he had all this figured out.

Like hell, Danvers. How’re you going to stay away from her? Now that you’ve had a taste, a teasing nibble of her, how are you going to fight the craving that even this minute is tearing you up inside?

The muscles in his back drew so tight they hurt. Angrily, he threw on his jacket. “We’ve got to get back. It’s cold.”

He stiffened as her fingers touched his shoulder. “You don’t have to feel guilty,” she said over the roar of the river as it dived from the cliffs to the gully far below.

“I don’t.”

“Then why-”

“Look, Adria, we can’t do this. Not anymore. Not until we find out for sure.” He placed firm hands on her shoulders and held her at arm’s length. “It just can’t happen.”

“So you’re starting to believe me.”

“For Christ’s sake, do you know what we’re talking about here?” he said, nearly screaming. “Incest!” The word hung between them, seeming to haunt the forest, standing still in the chill afternoon light.

“It’s not-”

“How do you know? If you’re so damned sure that you’re London, then how do you know?”

He watched her swallow with difficulty. “Because,” she said, tossing her hair away from her face, “I believe that you’re not Witt’s son.”

“Christ!” His face turned ashen. “Is that your rationalization?” He grabbed her arms so hard that she felt his fingers digging deep into her flesh through her jacket. “Now listen to me, sister, I’m not Polidori’s son.”