The tent was slightly larger than her own, but still a pinch for two, especially when she was soaking wet, on her knees and trying not to drip on everything. Zane wrapped the towel around her and grabbed his boots.

“Is your tent still standing?” he asked.

She nodded because her teeth were chattering too much for her to speak. Though the sight of him with his shirt unbuttoned was doing a lot to warm her up. His chest had just a smattering of hair at the top that veed over his flat stomach toward his jeans.

He gave her a quick glance. “You’re soaked to the bone, aren’t you?”

She nodded again.

He muttered something that sounded like “Figures” or maybe it was “damn fool woman”—she wasn’t sure. He fingered her dripping shirt, then shook his head.

“Take off your clothes, get dry, then crawl into my sleeping bag. It’ll warm you up. I’m going to put your gear into Cookie’s wagon where it’ll have a chance to dry off by morning. After I take down your tent, I’ll be back.”

He closed his shirt and put on his cowboy hat. As he started to crawl outside, he paused and looked back at her. “I’d appreciate it if you’d stay out of trouble between now and then.”

“O-okay,” she managed between lips numb with cold.

When Zane was gone, Phoebe did as he’d told her. She peeled off her wet socks and stretched them out by the flap. She hesitated over her shirt, but the dripping cold material sucked the heat from her already chilled body. Abandoning modesty, she wrestled the buttons open and pushed off the garment.

As her panties were only slightly damp and she couldn’t imagine actually getting completely naked under circumstances like these, she left them in place. She wrapped the towel around her wet hair and slid into Zane’s sleeping bag.

Instantly warmth enveloped her. The soft material was toasty and smelled of Zane’s body. It was like being in his arms...sort of. She imagined nestling her cheek against his muscled chest.

She curled up into a ball and willed herself to stop shaking. The towel fell off, but she couldn’t unfold her arms long enough to put it back in place. Then she decided to just leave it because it would protect his pillow from her damp hair.

There were noises from outside. The faint sounds told her Zane was dragging her tent to safety. She felt really bad for getting him up in the middle of a stormy night, and more than a little stupid for not listening when he’d told her not to put her tent on a dry streambed.

She was well into her course of self-recrimination when he returned. The flap parted, and a very wet Zane crawled in beside her.

“You okay?” he asked, as he set down the flashlight and touched her cheek. “Getting warm?”

She nodded, then sniffed. “I’m sorry.”

His dark eyes crinkled slightly as he smiled. “It was worth it.”

“What?”

“I get to say I told you so.”

She sniffed again. “You’re not mad?”

“Because I had to go out in the rain, in the middle of the night, pull up the stakes on your tent, resecure it somewhere else so it would dry out, then cart your saddlebags over to Cookie’s wagon, wake him up and then listen to him complain?”

She winced. “Those would be the reasons.”

“I’m not mad.”

She couldn’t believe it. “But I was stupid.”

“You’re a greenhorn. You didn’t know any better.”

“You tried to tell me. I should have listened.”

He smiled. “That’ll teach you. The man always knows best.”

“That’s so not true.”

“It is in this case. So are you naked?”

The switch in topic caught her unaware. She shimmied a little deeper into the sleeping bag. “I, ah, left on my panties.”

Zane swore softly. “I guess I deserved that for asking.”

“Deserved what?”

“You don’t want to know.”

Suddenly she did. Very much. But she didn’t know how to ask. So she tried a different subject.

“Are we going to share the sleeping bag?”

“I thought I’d go stay with Cookie.”

“Oh.” Disappointment flooded her way more than the river had. It was just as cold, but not as wet.

“Phoebe, we talked about this,” he reminded her. “You deserve better than a quickie out in the open.”

“We’re in a tent,” she said before she could stop herself. “And it doesn’t have to be quick.”

As soon as the words were out, she wanted to pull the sleeping bag over her head and disappear. Instead, she closed her eyes and waited for Zane to stalk off in disgust. When he didn’t move, she opened first one eye, then the other.

He was staring at her with the hungry expression of a man who has been starving all his life. The need burning in his dark irises warmed her way more than the sleeping bag.

He wanted her. She could feel his desire all the way to her toes. She wasn’t sure why he wanted her or for how long, but she couldn’t worry about any of that now.

She watched the battle rage inside of him. Base need fought his desire to be a gentleman. She wasn’t exactly sure how to influence the outcome, but she was determined to get her way in this. After considering several options, she settled on a simple, yet direct approach. She unzipped the sleeping bag and sat up.

While she was sure her hair was wet and spiky and that the flashlight didn’t exactly flatter her skin tone, Zane didn’t seem to notice any of that. His gaze dropped to her bare breasts and didn’t budge. There was an audible exhalation of air, a swearword, then a low groan that sounded very much like surrender.