"So you do care about me, just a little?" "Just a very little," Emma said primly, sitting up straight and smoothing her skirts. "We'll see how little you care," Steven told her, his eyes slipping from her mouth to her breasts and back again, "when I've got these damn sheets off my middle." "You presume a great deal, Mr. Fairfax. It just so happens that my interest in you is no more than ordinary Christian charity." Steven smiled a slow, leisurely smile that made Emma's heart and stomach collide with a jolt. "It's been my experience that 'Christian charity' isn't all that ordinary," he said. "And it generally doesn't involve letting a man take his comfort in quite the way I did with you." Emma flushed hotly, for she could not deny having allowed Steven to bare her breasts, then kiss and fondle her in a most intimate way. Nor could she claim she hadn't reveled in every caress. "There is no need to remind me of my--error in judgment," she said, clasping her hands together and lifting her chin. She thought of the things Callie had told her men liked, and her color deepened even more. "Come here," Steven said evenly. The formidable pistol was close at hand on the bedside table. Emma was backing toward the door. "No," she said, with breathless resolution. But she wanted desperately to go to Steven, to lie with him and let him kiss her and touch her the way he had before. He only smiled, shrugged, and closed his eyes. The"