Affair of Honor by Stephanie James

morning in a warm, tousled bed, the down quilt snuggled close to her chin. Her first impression was that something was wrong.
    Brenna’s eyes opened slowly to find the sunlight filtering brightly through the window cut in the peaked roof. It was late. But that wasn’t what was wrong. Her legs stretched idly and she became aware of a faint soreness in the muscles of her thighs.
    Not an unpleasant sensation in and of itself, but it brought back memories of the night with alarming speed. Brenna struggled to a sitting position, glancing around her bedroom with a kind of fear. Where was Ryder?
    It wasn’t his absence that seemed wrong, it was the possibility that he would step out of the bathroom or come up the stairs with breakfast at any minute that sent a wave of panic through her senses.
    My God! What had she done last night? She must have been out of her mind! With heartfelt anxiety she tossed back the quilt and stumbled to her feet, chilled in the morning light. Shakily she reached for the fluffy, high-necked, saffron-colored robe lying across the foot of the bed. It was only as she belted it on that she remembered it hadn’t been there last night. Ryder had put it out for her. She stood very still for a moment, listening to the quiet sounds of the cabin. Then she began to relax slightly. He wasn’t in the house, she was certain now.
    A bath, she thought grimly, that was what she needed first. The scent of him seemed to have somehow combined with her own. She made her way to the bathroom and locked the door behind her.
    What the hell was the matter with her? Brenna demanded of herself in the mirror. Why was she so nervous this morning? So she had let herself be seduced by a mood and a man unlike any other she had ever known. What was so terrible about that? It wasn’t as if she had been unfaithful to Damon. Her relationship with Dr. Fielding hadn’t even progressed as far as the bedroom yet and she’d known him, worked with him, for months!
    Which didn’t make her feel one bit better. Brenna looked away from the anxious expression in her own eyes, turned on the shower, and stepped underneath the spray with alacrity.
    No, her relationship with Damon hadn’t gotten to the point her association with Ryder Sterne had reached in three days! With a shock of startled realization, Brenna knew that even if she were to know Damon Fielding another ten years, even if she were to go to bed with him every night of that ten years, her relationship with him would never be quite what she’d found with Ryder last night.
    The knowledge made her catch her lower lip between her teeth, and another rush of panic seemed to tingle through her bloodstream. Why had she gotten herself into this mess? She closed her eyes at the thought of how Ryder had given her a chance to halt matters before it was too late.
    But it had already been too late, even at that point. Somehow the culmination of the evening had been inevitable. Not a pleasant thought for someone who taught the ethics of responsibility and free choice! Brenna’s fingers curled into a small fist and she braced her forearm against the tiled wall of the shower. Leaning her forehead against her arm, she let the warm water pound over her while she tried desperately to think.
    Over and over again she told herself that nothing all that devastating had happened. She had never been a promiscuous person and she needn’t condemn herself for succumbing to the incredible attraction Ryder had held for her last night. There had been very, very few serious romances in her life, she reflected bracingly. Surely a woman her age was allowed the mind-spinning excitement of a night like last night at least once.
    She knew, though, that she was, in a sense, chastising herself to no purpose. It wasn’t that she felt guilty; it wasn’t that she felt as if she’d been disloyal to Damon, who certainly dated other women. There was no point in berating herself for any of the traditional reasons.
    The real