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“It is getting better with the cold,” he said.

“Good,” she replied, and placed a hand on his cheek. Her touch traveled down to the back of his neck, repeating her tender caress. And in that moment, despite the situation, Marina found herself wanting to kiss him. With his hands wrapped around her, she wanted to kiss his pain away.

She wanted to love him.

Whatever that meant.

She wanted to try it nonetheless.

Ambrose raised his head. His hat shifted with him, its wide brim seeming to shelter both their heads in its shadow.

His green eyes met her blue ones. And she could see everything now. The faint redness upon his skin, the remnants of tears glistening in his crystal eyes, and the vulnerability he had allowed her to witness. Above them, the sun had sunk considerably lower, its light giving way to the rising moon.

“Ambrose,” she whispered, her voice trembling with tenderness.

She did not think beyond that. Marina leaned closer and pressed her lips against one of his eyes. A tear met her skin. Ambrose shivered. His hands loosened for the briefest moment before tightening around her once more, as though emotion itself had robbed him of his strength. Marina moved to his other eye and kissed that one too, slower this time.

“This does not make you any less handsome in my eyes,” she confessed, knowing she would not have taken the words back even if she wished to. “I thought you were gruff and unkind when I met you, arrogant and high in the instep, but I’ve come to learn you are only hard on the outside because of what you suffered. Inside, you have a heart of gold.”

Her fingers tightened on his shoulders. She kissed his hot cheek once more. When she looked at him again, something had changed in his expression. Even though the vulnerability remained, there was now something darker beneath. Something warmer. Something that made her pulse stutter.

When Marina leaned closer again, she did not kiss his eyes this time. Her lips pressed against his mouth. The kiss was slow, almost uncertain at first, almost questioning. But then it deepened gradually with a tenderness that made her forget the cold, the stream, and even the sleeping sun.

She closed her eyes, surrendering to the first taste of him. It was warm and faintly salted from the tears she had kissed away. Ambrose’s lips parted, almost with reluctant hunger, as though still measuring how much of himself he dared to give. Even so, she noticed how his entire body had changed. She felt it in the shift of his weight, the tightening of his arms around her as though fighting against some overwhelming impulse.

Then he stopped and drew back his head. Marina’s eyes fluttered open to find his green eyes watching her as though he had no idea what to do with the woman in his arms.

Her lips parted around the word she knew best. “Ambrose…”

But before she could finish, he moved. He bent suddenly and scooped her up as effortlessly as though she weighed nothing. She gasped, her arms instinctively flying around his neck.

Her heart raced wildly. She had no idea where he intended to take her. And, somehow, she did not think to ask.

Darkness had fallen over the little cabin. But she barely noticed it. All of her awareness was focused on the way the duke carried her across the room to the small single bed in the corner.

When he finally lowered her onto the bed, she was completely breathless. She had barely gathered herself when Ambrose bent before her, almost kneeling between her knees, with his palms placed on either side of her upon the mattress. The sight of him alone left her even more undone. And despite the darkness surrounding them, Marina felt no fear. Not of him. If anything, she wanted him closer.

She shifted her attention slightly, searching his face before asking, “Does it still hurt?” Her words were barely more than a breathless whisper, fragile with a certain trembling need she could no longer hide.

“It is better,” Ambrose replied, his voice lower than before. “Much better.”

Before she could drop her hand, he lifted one of his own, brushing a strand of her hair with his fingers. He tucked away the one that had fallen across her cheek. Her lashes fluttered. Then his touch moved, almost reverent in the way his fingers slipped lower along the side of her throat. Her fingers tightened in her lap, embarrassed that a mere touch might draw a soft moan from her lips if she were not careful. She bit the inside of her cheek, forcing the sound back.

She took hold of his hat and lifted it from his dark hair, exposing his handsome features. He looked devastatingly beautiful in the moonlight. Daringly, knowing she was tempting a man on the verge of losing control, she moved her face very close to his.

His gaze dropped, and his fingers left her neck to cradle the back of her head, drawing her face so close to his that she whimpered.

“I would like to kiss you again,” he finally said, his confession low and rough.

The words sank deep beneath her skin. Her knees weakened even though she was already sitting. She could feel her heartbeat in her throat, and the knowledge that he could feel it too made her cheeks burn. She parted her lips, offering the silent sign that she wanted the kiss just as fiercely as he did.

And that was enough. Ambrose leaned in with a force that toppled her balance. Marina fell back onto the mattress as he hovered over her, his mouth claiming hers. She gave a small gasp, but it vanished into his kiss.

His kiss began slow, his mouth moving over hers with suppressed hunger, as though he were testing her at first. Testing just how much she would allow him. His hands slid down to her waist, strong fingers drawing her closer. She threw her hands around his neck, kissing him back. He opened his mouth against hers, and she welcomed the taste of his tongue.

She moaned against his lips when his fingers found the laces of her corset. She turned slightly, giving him better access, and felt his fingers working at the ties with something close to impatience. He loosened them enough that the gown could be drawn from her slender body, neither of them thinking clearly anymore.

Marina kissed him deeper, her fingers flying to the buttons of his waistcoat and shirt. Frustration made her clumsy, but she did not give up until she had pulled them open. She tore the garment from his chest and let her palms roam the hardness of his heated muscle. She let her fingernails scrape lightly over him, almost hard enough to mark him. In the same moment, Ambrose lowered his head, his mouth traveling from her face down to the breasts he had bared.