Lacey had never been so cold in her life. Her skin felt raw, as if somebody had taken a piece of sandpaper and scoured her to the bone. An icy wall surrounded her on all sides, threatening to pull her under into unfathomable darkness. And then an unexpected warmth reached out to her, pressing close. It had substance. It was powerful, persistent, and it draped around her, breaking through the winter-wall around her like…like a lover’s strong embrace.

Lacey opened her eyes and looked straight into the dark depths of Matthew Brady's intense stare. She blinked, not sure if she was dreaming, and, when he didn't vanish, confusion rushed in like a rip tide.

A shiver, so intense it seized the muscles in her neck, tore through her body. Through her fit of tremors, she became aware that the bulky warmth draped over her legs and pressing against her body wasn't just the weight of heavy blankets. It was Matthew himself; strong, powerful, relentless. He was her source of heat.

Her eyes flew wide and she arched backwards, attempting to shove away from him. But the steely arms that were locked around her back only tightened.

“Stop wigglin’,” he hissed.

She fought down another bone-jarring shiver and tried to pull her legs out from between his. "What the h-hell do you th-think you're doing?!”

He clamped his knees tighter, refusing to let her go. “Keepin’ you alive.”

She finally managed to free one of her legs and attempted to move away from him. With a muttered curse he hauled her back against the strong, warm length of him.

She felt the callouses on his fingers scratch over the bare skin of her back and her eyes widened into his. Why were there no barriers between the heat of his hands and her skin?

Because I’m not wearing any clothes!

Her first impulse was to scream and go for his eyes.

He must have read the alarm in her expression, because he shook his head at her. "Don't panic,” he warned.

“D-don't panic?” She'd awakened to find herself undressed and lying next to him—and he had the nerve to tell her not to panic?!

"I'm just tryin’ to warm you up,” he added. As if that explained everything.

"W-Warm me up f-for what?" She wasn’t sure she wanted to hear his answer.

"You fell in the lake. Remember?"

She did remember that. Her horse had reared and sent her backwards into the icy water. “And you th-thought you'd g-get me warm by t-taking off my clothes?" she squeaked.

They were practically lying nose to nose; she could see the tiny crease between his eyebrows and the flecks of gray in his jade eyes. Matthew Brady was suddenly no longer a distant, irritable annoyance. He was a warm, attractive, flesh and blood man who currently had his hands all over her. She wanted to run—get away from him as fast as she could—but the chill in her body resisted the impulse. She needed his warmth.

"This isn't any easier for me than it is for you,” he muttered.

She snorted. “I s-somehow d-doubt that.” She shifted.

His jaw clenched. "Stop. Wigglin’.”

“Don’t t-tell me what to do!"

He closed his eyes, his nostrils flaring. "If you don't stop squirmin’ around you're gonna find yourself in more trouble than you can handle.”

“Your th-threats don't scare me!”

“It’s not a threat,” he answered tightly. He opened his eyes and she saw a heat in them like nothing she’d ever seen before. A heat that made her decidedly nervous.

Ignoring his tone, and his warning, Lacey put her hand against his chest, intending to put some distance between the two of them. Her fingers brushed over muscular bare flesh and she gasped.

“Wh…Why aren’t you wearing a shirt?”

“Shared body heat was the quickest way to warm you up.”

“Shared bo—” And that’s when she finally understood. Her eyes flew wide. “Tell me you’re wearing pants.”

"Clothing would only slow the process.”

“Oh my god!” she cried. She renewed her struggles to get free, but he only held on to her tighter.

“Stop wigglin’!” he shouted.

Realizing now that his earlier threat of more trouble had been very real, Lacey went perfectly still. They were both breathing hard, both eyeing each other warily.

Stay calm, Lace, she coached herself.

She was staring at his mouth and quickly refocused on his chin—anywhere but into his dark, penetrating eyes. "Well, I…I’m certainly feeling much warmer now." It wasn’t a lie. Her shivering had stopped, replaced by a very distinct heat that was coiling its way through her body. “You can go ahead and put some clothes on—”

He slid his hand across her lower back and sent a different kind of chill racing through her body. "You still feel cold to me."

Now there's a compliment every girl wants to hear. "Nothing a nice little fire wouldn't solve," she suggested sweetly.

“Your lips are blue.”

He was looking at her lips? “My lips—” Her eyes slammed into his. “—are fine.”

“When they’re not blue anymore I'll see what kind of firewood I can scrape up."

She clenched her teeth. She was trying to be diplomatic, but, as usual, he was determined to be pigheaded. Despite his assurances to the contrary, she suspected he liked where he was, and doubted he'd be going anywhere any time soon.

She swallowed against the dryness in her throat and tried to make light of things. “Well…this is certainly an interesting situation.”

“Interesting’s a good word for it.”

He shifted slightly, and a tiny, unexpected thrill shot a shiver through her body. She was stunned by her reaction to him, and horrified to see a knowing look come into his eyes.

"Now what are you thinking?" she dared to ask.

A small smile played on his lips. “That you're warmin’ up faster than I expected."

"Are—are my lips pink yet?" She hoped he hadn't noticed the tremor in her voice.

His gaze drifted down to her mouth and he shook his head. "They're usually more of a tawny rose."

Huh? All the fights they'd had—the knock-down, drag-out arguments—and he'd somewhere along the line taken the time to note the color of her lips?

His gaze lingered over her mouth, making her feel very uncomfortable, and she realized that they both needed a reminder of who they were and why they were there. "Hey,” she said. His eyes rose back to hers. “We hate each other, remember?"

His rough hand slid down her back and over the curve of her bottom and Lacey’s breath caught in her throat. All her life she’d heard that desire felt like butterflies in your stomach, but now she knew that it really felt like cartwheels.

"Yeah," he replied softly. "We hate each other all to pieces."

A dark passion was rising up in his eyes, one she was determined to resist. “So…h-how's that girlfriend of yours? Amanda, is it?"

He blinked, his eyes clearing. She'd hit her mark. “Amanda’s fine."

"I bet she's never fallen into a frozen lake before.”

"She's smart enough not to put herself in that kind of situation."

Lacey scowled at him. She was trying to help the situation by throwing out a little casual conversation, and he used the moment to attack her? "Are you implying that I'm stupid?"

“I’m not implyin’ anything.”

"I can outwit you any day of the week, pal.”

"If you’d outwitted me today you'd be sleepin’ at the bottom of a lake."

"And what makes you think I wouldn't have been able to pull myself out?”

"The five hundred pounds of clothes you were wearin’ at the time."

She clenched her jaw, hating that he was right, hating that she’d been a fool to ride off into the unknown by herself— even the angel lady had tried to warn her—but she'd been too stubborn to listen.

"Are my lips pink yet?” she demanded.

His gaze lowered to her mouth again. “I could always try speedin’ up the process."

Lacey felt her face heat. “Don’t even think about it.”

”You know, just once I'd like to hear one simple word of gratitude slip out from between those sweet lips of yours."

“Don't hold your breath.”

He grunted. “I wouldn’t waste my time.”

“No, you'd be too busy wasting everybody else’s.”

"Now there's the pot calling the kettle black,” he growled.

"At least I'm trying to help this town!" she shouted at him.

“Help it right off the map!" he yelled back.

A throat cleared a few feet away. "Uhh…pardon me…Marshal?"

They both shot glances at the cave entrance. Larry Dover was standing there, looking chagrined, along with Tranquility's other two deputies.

"Well," Lacey stated. "If it isn't the Brady Bunch."

"What are you three doing here?" the marshal demanded.

"We, uh…” Larry had to pause to control a grin that seemed to have a mind of its own.

“There sure ain't no question what you two are doin'," Gene remarked.

Bill burst into laughter.

Lacey suddenly remembered where she was, and how it must look to three feeble minds like Larry, Bill, and Gene. With an anguished groan, she threw the blankets over her head, and prayed the earth would swallow her whole.

* * *

Matthew now knew what a true paradox was. Heaven and hell. That's what it felt like lying there—naked as the day he was born—next to Lacey Guarder. His desire for the woman was like a fire raging through his blood. Thank God nothing had happened between them. Now, if he could only convince his deputies of that.

He propped himself up on his elbow and stared at their grins. Convincing these three not to jump to the wrong conclusions was going to be like convincing a monk not to pray.

"Whatcha doin', boss?" Larry asked with a smirk.

"Looks like he's cornerin' bad guys," Bill sniggered.

"Can't wait till I'm a marshal," Gene said with a waggle of his brows.

"Get rid of the idiots!” Lacey hissed from beneath the blanket.

Bill scowled at Gene. "I forgot how much we dislike that woman."

"We got some news this mornin', boss," Larry said. "We knew you'd wanna hear it right away, so we followed your tracks…. By the looks of the hole in the ice out at Geneva Lake, we figured somebody must have fallen in."

"Miss Guarder fell in. I was forced to share body heat with her to keep her warm."

"Did he say forced?" Bill remarked.

"Yeah.” Gene grinned. “He did.”

"Nothin’ happened," Matthew stated. "Nothin’.”

"Uh-huh."

"Nothing!" Lacey shouted from beneath the blanket. "And if any of you says otherwise, I'll be wearing your testicles as earrings!"

The three deputies paled, and for once Matthew appreciated Lacey's no-nonsense way of putting things. The last thing he needed was this moment getting repeated to Amanda in full living color.

"What's the news?" he demanded.

"Huh?" Larry was still recovering from the image of having his balls made into jewelry.

"The important news that you just had to bring me?"

"Oh. Got a telegram from Fairhaven this mornin'. A desk clerk at the Royal checked a woman in yesterday fittin' Lorraine's description."

Fairhaven? Matthew angled a sharp look at the lump under the blankets beside him. "You boys wait outside while the lady gets into some dry clothes."

"Sure we can't help?" Gene waggled his brows suggestively.

"Like he needs your help," Larry remarked. He shoved the other two outside ahead of him.

Matthew sat up. "Don't suppose it's just a coincidence that you were headed to Fairhaven and that's where Lorraine Rawlins has been spotted."

There was a moment of silence, and then Lacy said, "Don't suppose it is."

He pulled the blankets off her head, and she stared up at him with large tawny eyes. "You intendin’ to get that money for yourself?”

She gaped at him in shock, and it was almost convincing. But if there was one thing Matthew had learned about Miss Lacey Guarder in the past three days, it was that she was a gifted actress.

He cursed, tossed aside the blankets covering him, and rose to his feet. She instantly averted her eyes. "Are you going to answer me, or not?" he demanded. He reached for his pants and pulled them on.

"I've already told you why I'm after the money.”

“Right. Some nonsense about tryin’ to help me save my job. How noble of you. Unfortunately I'm well aware of your background."

She gave him a startled look.

"You're a thief.”

“But…how did you know?”

The facts hit him square in the chest. He’d only suspected, but she’d just confirmed his worst fears. "You must want the money pretty bad to risk your neck ridin’ off alone like that."

She pulled the blanket high beneath her chin. "I do. But not for myself, for the town.”

“If you’re so worried about this town, then why didn't you tell me yesterday that Lorraine was in Fairhaven?"

"Because you wouldn't have taken me with you.”

"Damn right I wouldn't have."

“The money can only be recovered if we're together.”

He gave her an incredulous look; now she was just grabbing at straws.

"I didn't believe it myself at first. But after what happened to me today—"

"What happened to you today was born of pure stupidity. Any halfwit knows not to ride out onto a frozen lake.”

"I didn't know it was a lake,” she answered tightly. "Just as you didn't know how to get the information from the Rawlins brothers that Lorraine was in Fairhaven. Don't you see? It makes sense that we work together.”

"Well, now that I know Lorraine is in Fairhaven," he returned smoothly, "your part in all this seems pretty irrelevant, doesn't it?"

Her eyes flashed. "You go there without me and you'll be wasting your time—and mine!"

And hers? He narrowed his eyes. "Just what the hell is your stake in all this?"

She looked away. "I can't tell you that."

He picked up his bedroll. “And I can’t take you to Fairhaven."

He strode toward his horse and retrieved his extra set of clothes from his saddlebags. "Put these on”—he tossed the clothes at her—“and meet me outside. Me and my men'll see you back to the Martins'."

"How hard would it be to just let me trail along behind you?" she demanded.

He paused in leading his horse outside. "How hard would it be for you to give me a straight answer for once?"

"My life and who I am have no bearing on the search for Lorraine Rawlins,” she insisted.

He grunted. “Is that why you’re so determined to keep it hidden from me?”

He turned and left, furious that he was so totally intrigued by her. The woman was poison to him, and to the future he had planned for himself. He couldn't let her get under his skin like this. It was time to cut his losses and stay away from Miss Lacey Guarder.