"Where are you going?" Logan's piercing gaze raked over her heaving ivory globes. He could see her heartbeat fluttering in the foamy lace at her low neckline.

"P-please, I merely wish to pass," Marie said, her soft brown eyes taking in his windswept hair, broad chest, and narrow hips. "I must go to the market."

His mouth narrowed and he sniffed at her thick dark locks, marred only by the pale, luminous streaks that surrounded her angelic face.

As she passed, his arm shot out to encircle her tiny waist. The question was a husky whisper. "Bring back some ale?"