QUOTE : Cait,” he said softly, his hand covering hers and slowing the motion of the comb. “Put that down and look at me.” She stiffened. “Don’t be touching me, Englishman.” “I don’t think I can help myself.” She tossed her head, and her downy hair rippled across his chest. He smelled its wild, fresh fragrance. “Scared?” “Never,” she swore. “Then turn around.” She pivoted sharply, but he kept hold of her and Caitlin found herself pinned between him and the horse. “Why do you keep after me?” “That’s another thing I can’t help.” His finger skimmed her cheekbone, tracing the line of her jaw. “I understand you better than you think. Better, perhaps, than anyone at Clonmuir.