"Sharks." The word came out in a whisper filled with anguish.

"Sharks?" he asked, uncertain if he'd heard correctly.

She tucked her head under his chin. "I'm so tired," she whispered. "I don't remember the nightmare now. Hold me, Caine. I want to go back to sleep."

Her voice still trembled. Caine knew she was lying. She remembered every bit of her nightmare. He wasn't going to prod her into telling him about it, however.

He kissed the top of her head, then complied with her order and pulled her close.

Jade knew the minute he fell asleep again. She slowly eased herself away from him and moved to the

side of the bed. Her heart was still slamming inside her chest. He thought she'd only had a nightmare. Was reliving an actual event the same? And would she ever be able to forget the horror?

God help her, would she ever be able to go willingly back in the water again?

She felt like crying. It took all her discipline not to give into her urge and hold on to him now. Caine

was such an easy man to trust. She could get used to depending on him, she knew. Yes, he was the dependable type, but he could also break her heart.

She was thoroughly confused by her reaction to him. In her heart, she trusted him completely.

Why then didn't his own brother?

Caine woke up ravenous… for her. Jade's nightgown was tangled up around her thighs. She had cuddled up against his side and had thrown her right leg over his thighs sometime during the short night. Her knee now covered his throbbing arousal. Out of deference to her feelings, he'd slept with his pants on. The clothing proved to be a paltry barrier against her softness, though, and Caine could feel the scorch of her body branding him with hot desire.

The side of her face rested on his bare chest. Her lips were softly parted, her breathing deep, even. She had long, black-as-night eyelashes and a healthy sprinkle of freckles across the bridge of her nose. The woman was utterly feminine. Caine continued to stare at her lovely face until he was so hard, so hurting, he was clenching his teeth.

It was a battle to move away from her. When he tried to ease her onto her back, he realized she was holding his hand. She didn't seem inclined to let go, either.

He had to pry her fingers loose. Then he remembered she'd called him a bastard rake the night before. Yet she was clinging to him now. Caine was certain she'd be wary of him once again when she was

wide awake. She couldn't hide her vulnerability from him when she was sleeping, however, and that fact pleased him considerably.

A fierce wave of possessiveness consumed him. In that moment, while he stared down at his angel, he vowed he would never let anything happen to her, he would protect her with his life.

For as long as he was her guardian… or did he want her to stay with him much, much longer… Nathan would be home in two short weeks to take up the task of keeping his sister safe. Would Caine be able to let her go then?

He didn't have any ready answers; he knew only that the thought of giving her up made his heart lurch and his stomach tighten up.

It was all he was prepared to admit to himself, all he was willing to give.

It certainly wasn't possible to be logical with a half-naked beauty draped over him. Yes, he thought as he leaned down and kissed her brow, he would wait until later to sort it all out in his mind.

He washed and dressed in clothes that belonged to Lyon, then woke Jade. She tried to hit him when he nudged her awake. "It's all right, Jade," he whispered. "It's time to get up."

She was blushing by the time she'd sat up in bed. Caine watched her pull the coverlet all the way up to her chin. The act of modesty really wasn't necessary considering her state of undress the night before, but he decided against mentioning that to her now.

"Please excuse my behavior," she whispered in a husky, sleep-filled voice. "'Tis the truth I'm not at all accustomed to being awakened by a man."

"I would hope not," he replied.

She looked bewildered. "Why would you hope that?"

"You're not awake enough to play Socrates with me," he told her, his voice gentle.

Jade stared rather stupidly up at him. Caine leaned down and kissed her then, a hard, quick kiss that was over and done with before she could summon a reaction… or make a fist.

She had the most astonished look on her face when he pulled away from her. "Why did you do that?"

"Because I wanted to," he answered.

He started for the door, but she called out to him. "Where are you going?"

"Downstairs," he replied. "I'll meet you in the dining room. I imagine Christina left some clothes for you in the other room, sweet."

"Oh my God… she must think that we… that is…"

The door closed on her horrified whispers.

She could hear Caine whistling as he made his way down the corridor. Jade fell back against the pillows. The brief kiss he'd given her had left her shaken. That, and the fact that his friends now thought she was wanton.

And just what did she care what they thought? When this deception was over, she wouldn't ever see

them again. Still, Christina wanted to be her friend. Jade now felt as though she'd just betrayed her in some way.

"I'll simply explain that nothing happened," she whispered to herself. She's going to understand. A true friend would, wouldn't she?

Since Jade hadn't had any true friends in the past, she couldn't be certain what rules applied.

She got out of her bed and rushed back into her own room. Caine had been correct, for Christina had

left a pretty dark blue riding outfit. Dark brown boots with nary a mark on them were on the floor

beside the chair. Jade prayed they were close to her size.

She couldn't quit thinking about Caine while she dressed. The man was going to be a challenge to her peace of mind. He was so dangerously attractive. The damned dimple made her want to swoon. Lyon had loaned him a pair of indeeently snug deerskin-colored britches. The pants accentuated the sleek

bulge of muscles in his thighs… and his crotch. Black Harry would throttle her if he knew she'd taken the time to notice a man's body. Caine's sexuality, so raw, so appealing, made her notice, though. She might be innocent of men, but she certainly wasn't blind.

A scant fifteen minutes later, she was ready to go downstairs. The white silk blouse was a bit too tight