...to post a new excerpt from my latest release, Confederate Rose.
Her pale cheeks turned a becoming shade of pink. She lifted one white, bare arm from the quilt to gesture at the clothing drying by the fire. "Now didn't you tell me to hang yer things out to dry?"
Alex grimaced. He had told her to do that. But he hadn't expected her to go through his pack. "So I did," he admitted.
She slipped her arm back into the quilt and lifted her chin. "'Tis an apology I should be expecting, Mr. Hart."
"Apology? You were going through my things."
"Because you ordered me to see to yer wet clothes."
Alex didn't think he'd win this argument. "Very well, ma'am. I apologize if I've offended your fine sensibilities in any way."
She straightened and hugged the quilt, eyeing him regally. "I accept yer apology, Mr. Hart."
"Well then." He hesitated and dropped his gaze. Her wide eyes drove his thoughts to ideas best left alone. That and the knowledge of what little she wore under the quilt. He cleared his throat. "I suggest we bed down for the night."
"Not until you get yerself out of those wet clothes."
His brows shot up. "I beg your pardon?"
"Ye'll surely not be sleeping in those wet things. 'Tis by the fire ye'll be needing to hang them."
His gaze settled on the clothes draped over the two chairs. Steam rose from them. "But those clothes aren't dry yet."
"Ye'll not be needing clothes to sleep." She grinned mischievously. "We've plenty of blankets."