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never
stopped working. He had wondered whether she would make this easy
on him. Now he had his answer.
    “ Fine day to finish clearing
the field,” he offered as he fell in step next to her.
    She spared him a chilly
glance from under her lashes. Filling her
arms with jagged rocks, she stalked off to
the fence and began setting in her load. Torn between frustration
and the sure knowledge he was getting a
warmer reception than he deserved, Michael stood and watched her for a moment. Then with a shake of his
head, he bent down and jimmied a large rock free of the earth.
Using hands and the occasional foot, he rolled it in a zigzagging
path to the fence. And all the while he considered his next move.
Honesty seemed the only way out.
    She still stood at the low line of fence,
scowling at it as if by sheer force of will she could make it grow.
Michael moved behind her, wanting to rest his hands on her slender
shoulders but not daring to touch her. Not deserving to.
    “ I’m sorry,” he
said.
    She swung round to face him.
A hot flame danced in those cool blue eyes,
making him realize that his sister wasn’t alone in the ranks of
warrior.
    “ Sorry for what?”
    Jamming his hands deep into his pockets he
muttered, “For kissing you. It was wrong of me... stupid. I should
have warned you... or something.”
    “ Kissing me? You’re sorry
for that? There’s nothing else you’ve done that you think might be
worth an apology?”
    A recitation of that list would stretch long
past sunset, not that the woman in front of him looked inclined to
let him slip in a word.
    “ Well, I’ll admit the kiss was unexpected,”
she said. “And not invited, either. But I want you to take a look
at me.”
    As though he’d be able to look away from such
shimmering beauty.
    She held her hands out to her sides. “I might
seem a child to some, but I’m twenty-four years old and capable of
knowing when I want to be kissed. And equally capable of telling a
man to stop. Not that I stopped you last night. And not that I’ll
need to worry about stopping you, with you all but offering to send
an engraved announcement before you try again.”
    She moved close enough that if he took his
hands from his pockets he could haul her up against him. Tempting,
so tempting.
    “ What amazes me, Michael
Kilbride, and makes me doubt for my sanity, is that I’m beginning
to think you’ve had less experience with the opposite sex than I
have. Though looking at you, I can’t imagine how that could be
true.”
    He didn’t think she’d like the answer, so he
gave her none.
    “ Now, will I be getting that
apology for the way you acted this morning?” The rueful shake of
her head was something he was sure she’d practiced on her students
time and again. “Not so much as a neighborly nod or
hello.”
    Michael had promised himself that he’d give
her the truth. Slipping his hands from his pockets, he stepped
closer yet. He cupped her hand—so small—in his palm.
    “ For this morning, I’m truly
sorry,” he said, savoring the feel of her cool skin. The fact that
it was a bit work-roughened somehow made her seem all the more
appealing. “I’m not much good at social matters.”
    He turned her hand so that, palm upward, it
still rested within his. She didn’t fight him, just gazed at him
through cautious eyes. It astounded him—humbled him—that she would
welcome his touch. With his free hand he pushed back the heavy wool
of her sweater until the inside of her wrist was exposed.
    “ Don’t think that I ignored
you, Kylie O’Shea, because you filled my morning, and not whatever
words Father Cready was offering up.”
    With one fingertip he traced the slender blue
veins beneath her translucent white skin. The intimacy of it made
him swallow hard and hesitate before speaking again. But it didn’t
make him stop touching her. Never that.
    “ So think I’m a boorish sod,
but never think I didn’t notice you.”
    Kylie couldn’t look away from the long