Nervous energy coiled in the pit of her stomach, but Helena ignored it. She knew what she was doing. Adam had ensured that.

He’d specifically taught her moves that were meant to be used against bigger, stronger opponents. When he’d learned of her visions, Adam had been so afraid that she would be attacked for possessing dark magic that he’d drilled into her these maneuvers to protect herself. Even though Helena, Adam, and their father had vowed never to tell anyone, Adam had warned that her very life was in danger simply because of the visions.

Logan loomed before her, most of his face cast in shadow. His eyes appeared almost black in the low light. Slowly, he took a step toward her and reached for her arm.

She immediately clamped her hand around his forearm and swept her arm in an outward circle. His hold broke, but she still had a grip on his wrist, torqueing it at an unnatural angle. As she applied pressure to his wrist, her other hand shot out toward his face. She halted, the heel of her palm an inch away from Logan’s nose.

His free hand flew up in surrender, and she released him, stepping back.

He eyed her as he rubbed the wrist she’d captured.

“Impressive,” he murmured.

“Try again,” she replied, motioning him forward.

This time his hand shot out much faster, but she was ready for him.

She darted to the outside of his grasp and clasped his wrist once more. With her other hand, she gripped the large muscle of his upper arm just above the elbow. She pressed, locking his elbow straight and driving his shoulder down toward the ground.

He grunted, but unless he wanted a broken arm, he couldn’t resist when she pushed him to his knees. Again, he held up a hand in surrender.

“Most impressive,” he said as he rose to his feet.

“You don’t have to go easy on me,” she said.

He snorted softly at that. Before she could brace her stance, he darted forward, closing the distance between them.

She barely managed to pivot so that her shoulder faced his chest. She grabbed one of his outstretched arms with both hands once more, then thrust her hip and shoulder into his side as she bent and pulled on his arm with all her strength.

Logan went tumbling over her, but somehow he managed to wrap his free arm around her waist as he fell to the ground. He landed hard on his back with her on top of him, her side connecting with his chest.

The air left his lungs in a whoosh, yet his hold on her waist didn’t loosen. Like lightning, he rolled so that he pinned her to the ground beneath him.

She gasped as his arms came down on either side of her head and his body pressed her flat. His face loomed before her, his white teeth gleaming in the moonlight as he gave her a wolfish smile.

Helena pushed against his chest, but he didn’t budge. A low chuckle rose in his throat, bristling her pride.

Without thinking, she lifted her head and kissed his smiling mouth.

Logan froze, his body going taut above hers.

It was all the opening she needed. She bucked her hips with all her might, sending Logan toppling off her. She rolled away and jerked to her feet a few paces from him.

He stared up at her from his back, a bewildered half-frown on his face.

“That was a dirty trick.”

“Nay, I merely used a tool of distraction,” she said, crossing her arms over her chest and giving him a satisfied grin. “And all tools can be used as weapons against one’s opponent.”

“Is that what yer kiss is, then? A weapon?”

Though his frown had faded, his gaze was fixed on her. In the depths of his dark eyes, she saw that something more lay behind his question.

A sudden wave of guilt washed over her. She’d given Logan her kisses and let him give her pleasure, yet she hadn’t entrusted him with any of the secrets she carried in her heart.

He had opened himself to her, welcomed her into his family. Aye, she knew he still kept secrets of his own—neither he nor Mairin would speak on why he’d left his clan eleven years past. Yet she had told him almost naught of herself, holding him at arm’s length even when they were in each other’s embrace.

“My brother taught me that,” she said abruptly. “Not the kissing, of course. The defensive techniques.”

Logan’s features softened in the moonlight. “Ye have a brother?”

“Had.”

He stared up at her for a long moment. “I’m sorry.”

She nodded, swallowing the sudden tightness in her throat. Her family had drilled it into her that she couldn’t trust anyone, and not just regarding the truth of her visions. As foreign invaders holding a Scottish castle for the English King, Helena’s father and Adam had warned her not to confide in others—not to rely on them.

Yet the weight of a lifetime of secrets—her visions, the concealed passageway in Craigmoor, and now where she came from and why she’d fled—bore down on her fiercely. Sharing even just a sliver of that burden with Logan was like coming up for air after a long time trapped underwater.

“Adam recognized that the world can be cruel to women. He never wanted me to be completely helpless, so he saw to it that I learned a few maneuvers for my own protection—in case…” The lump was back in her throat, and this time she couldn’t force it down. “In case he couldn’t be there to protect me.”

Logan’s steely eyes clouded with sadness and anger at that. He nodded slowly, silently telling her with his eyes that he understood.

He reached out a hand and captured her ankle, but she knew their mock battle was over. She let him draw her closer to where he lay.

When she hovered over him, he lifted one of her feet and placed it over his hip, then gripped her woolen skirts and dragged her down slowly until she straddled him.

He propped himself up on his elbows so that their gazes were closer to level. His hands gently kneaded her thighs over her skirts.

“Thank ye for telling me—and showing me,” he rasped. “I wish I could’ve met yer brother so that I could tell him what a fine, strong woman ye are.”

Blinking against the sting of tears, Helena nodded, not trusting her voice.

Logan’s hands continued their slow massage, and the painful memories began to fade.

The air seemed to thicken between them. Helena’s skin started to tingle where the warmth of Logan’s big hands seeped through the wool of her dress. The tingling spread, creeping up her thighs to that spot he’d kissed between her legs.

As the remembered sensations from that day flooded back, her nipples drew taut and her womanhood grew achy. Her heartbeat hitched, sending an erratic pulse to her sex.

Suddenly she became aware of the long, hard column of his manhood pressing against the crux of her legs where she straddled him. The feel of his obvious arousal sent heat into her face, but she refused to be embarrassed. Though she shouldn’t, though it was wrong, she wanted him.

Logan dragged his hands up her thighs, bringing her skirts with them. When cold air brushed her knees, he released her dress and gripped her hips.

“One day,” he rasped, his gray eyes burning into her, “one day I want to see ye—all of ye.”

A shiver of anticipation stole over her, making her skin hot and sensitive beneath her clothes.

He pushed himself up from his elbows and kissed her deeply then. Knowing what pleasures his mouth could bring, she instantly opened to him. His fingers sank into her hips, pulling her tightly to him. The length of his manhood pressed against the apex of her legs right where she needed contact.

Muttering a curse, he found her breast with one hand. She arched into his palm greedily, welcoming the jolts of sensation his touch brought.

He began rolling his hips against her in an erotic rhythm. It was a promise of things to come—things she should never allow. Her reason had fled the moment he kissed her, though.

Logan suddenly drew back, panting.

“It can be like before,” he breathed. “Ye can have pleasure without losing yer maidenhead.”

Had he read her thoughts? His words were enough to call back a thread of sense. Thank God he had his wits about him, for she might have crossed a line she could never re-tread.

“Aye,” she murmured. “But…”

“What is it?”

“I…I want to share pleasure with you—make you feel as you make me feel.”

His eyes ignited in steely flames. He closed the distance between them, kissing her hard.

She clung to his shoulders, loving the tensed strength there. Then she let her hands wander to his unbound hair, which hung around his shoulders in russet waves. He groaned when she massaged his scalp with her nails. But after a moment, it was all she could do to wrap her hands around his neck, for the pleasure was growing unbearable.

Just then, Logan separated their bodies enough to slip a hand between them. His fingers found her bare knee, then moved up under her skirts to her throbbing center.

She sucked in a hard breath when his fingers brushed her sex. Through the waves of sensation, she remembered her own words. Tentatively, she reached out and laid her hand over the thick column of his manhood, which strained against his breeches.

Logan moaned at that first contact. “Aye,” he murmured into her ear, sending shivers across her skin. “Stroke me.”

She moved her hand over his length, matching the rhythm of his fingers against her sex. But after only a few moments, he cursed and jerked back.

“Did I do something wrong?” she asked.

“Nay,” he said through clenched teeth. His free hand found the fastenings at the front of his breeches and he savagely tore at them.

She watched with fascination as his manhood suddenly sprang free. It jutted hard and long from a bed of copper hair. When her fingertips brushed it, she was surprised at how velvety the skin felt.

“Like this,” he gritted out, taking her hand in his and wrapping them both around his manhood. He drew her hand up and down the length of him. When she began moving on her own, he released her hand and his palm once again found her breast.

She gazed at him in the moonlight, loving the way his eyes squeezed shut in pleasure and the scar on the left side of his face pulled taut.

When he slipped a finger inside her, all thought fled and she, too, closed her eyes and moaned. Her whole body rose on a swell of pleasure, higher and higher.

His thumb found that sensitive spot even as his finger worked inside her. Suddenly the sensation crested and broke over her like a wave hammering a beach.

She arched and let her head fall back, surrendering to the pleasure. As the wave began to retreat, she heard Logan’s breath hitch. He jerked against her palm, and then she felt him spend himself in her hand.

They drifted back slowly, their breaths mingling as Logan withdrew from her and pulled her close into his embrace.

Wordlessly, they disentangled themselves and rose. Helena’s legs wobbled when she stood, but Logan was there with a hand around her waist to steady her. Then they moved to the stream and let the cold water rinse their hands.

As they walked slowly back toward the hut, Logan spoke.

“I’d like ye to keep teaching Mairin,” he murmured. “And I hope ye can forgive me for my anger earlier.”

“Of course,” she replied.

“I only have one caveat.”

She looked up at him, trying to read his angular features. “What is it?”

“No more sneaking off to the woods just the two of ye.”

Helena frowned. “Then how are we to—”

“Ye misunderstand, lass. I want to help. I want to make sure Mairin has someone my size to practice against. Besides,” he said, glancing sideways at her playfully, “I would hope that after so many years as a warrior, I might have a thing or two to teach her myself.”

She held his gaze for a long moment, letting all her emotions lay unguarded in her eyes.

“Aye,” she murmured. “I’d like that.”