A woman on the run plus a lawman in hot pursuit equals passion hot enough to burn down the Wyoming mountainsides.

Her face was flushed, so he put the back of his hand to her forehead. “You’re still running a fever.”

“I know. My whole body aches, and every now and then I get chills even when I’m huddled inside the blankets. Thinking is a real effort. I can’t seem to clear my head.”

“You need to rest.”

“You’re right, but we can’t afford to lose more than a day or two. I’d rather spend those in sturdier shelter much as I appreciate all you’ve done to take care of me-especially keeping me from freezing.”

Ev’s neck heated. “I apologize for . . . well uhm for . . .”

“Good heavens you’re embarrassed.”

“Well, dangit, you should be too. I had to strip us both naked and hold you all night just to keep us both alive.”

“We were both naked?”

He nodded.

She smiled. “Together?”

He swallowed and nodded again.

“Did we do anything else together?” She giggled.

The sound would have been real nice if it weren’t directed at him. He bristled and narrowed his gaze at her. “What d’you take me for? Some kind of scum who takes advantage of unconscious women?”

“No. I’m trying to thank you for saving our lives. I want you to see that you have nothing to be ashamed or embarrassed about.”

His eyes widened, and his jaw dropped open a bit. “Well one of us should be embarrassed. A man and a woman don’t usually get naked and not do anything together.”

“Are you saying you wanted to, uhm, do something together?”

“NO! Blast it! I’m not that kind of man.”

She blinked. “What kind of man are you? I mean, well, I know some men prefer other men instead of women. Is that the kind of man you are?”

He actually growled. “I’m the kind of man who doesn’t take advantage of sick injured women, or indulge in any sort of congress with a woman whom I do not know.”

“Oh. So you didn’t want to . . . have congress with me.”

“You were injured. You’re still sick, and I don’t know you.”

“I’d say you know me pretty well by now, Marshal.”

“I don’t know you well enough for that, and you’re still calling me Marshal.”

“What do you want me to call you?”

He could think of a lot of things, none of them appropriate. “Quinn, or Ev-that’s short for my first name, Evrett.”

“Ev.” She said it low and slow. “Is that good enough?”

His name on her lips was way too good and could be even better if. . . . But that wasn’t going to happen. He ground his teeth to keep from shouting. “It’s fine. Now get back under those blankets.”

“Are you saying you know me well enough now for us to, uh, have congress?”

“No!” What kind of woman asks a question like that? “

Hmmm. Please tell me when you do?”

He opened his mouth, then closed it again and turned away to put more wood on the fire.