Anna's blush returned, though she ignored it as fixedly as she'd ignored it the first time. If he could be perfectly calm about this, then so could she.

"Yes, I believe so." She threw him a disapproving look. "There's not much to look at after all." She expected him to be annoyed or even a little chagrined. He was not.

Instead, he laughed, and the sound hit her like a shock, wrapping around her, deep and dark as melted chocolate. And all she could think was that she'd never heard anyone laugh like that. In fact, it had been a long time since she'd heard anyone laugh at all.

"Far be it from me to disagree," he said, "but the blush in your cheeks would seem to indicate otherwise."

Oh, yes, he's very dangerous.

That laugh of his was still resounding through her entire body, like she was a tuning fork he'd just struck, and she couldn't understand why. She couldn't understand her response to him at all. She only knew that some instinct inside her was urging her to get away from him and as quickly as possible.

However, Anna had given up listening to her instincts, because they were always wrong. And besides, running away would be to acknowledge that this man had got to her in some way, and she could never allow that.

"The blush in my cheeks has more to do with being suddenly accosted by a naked stranger than anything else," she said. "You could put on your shorts, you know."

He raised one straight dark brow. "You could also turn around."

Anna ignored the burning in her cheeks. "It's a bit late for that now, isn't it?"

"Indeed." The glitter of amusement in his eyes changed, shifting into something else, something more intense. "In that case you won't mind if I take my time about it." He tilted his head again and, though his gaze didn't move from her face, she felt as if he'd scanned every inch of her body. "Feel free to resume blackberry picking. Or you could stay and watch me dress. Either isn't a problem for me."

She opened her mouth to tell him that she certainly wouldn't be staying, but he didn't wait for her to respond, instead turning and going over to where a pair of black running shorts and expensive-looking running shoes sat. Then he began to dress in an unhurried fashion. His movements had an athletic grace to them that held her oddly mesmerized and she realized after a couple of moments that, far from resuming her blackberry picking as she'd fully intended, she was in fact standing there doing exactly the opposite.

This was ridiculous.

"I'm going now," she announced, both to herself and to him.

He didn't respond, bending to tie the laces of his running shoes, black hair gleaming in the sun. Yet her feet wouldn't move. It was as if her body had a mind of its own and what it wanted was to stay near him, which made no sense whatsoever. She'd had a couple of crushes on boys back in high school, but not since. She didn't have either the time or the inclination for such things, not when her primary focus was looking after her father and earning enough money to cover their expenses. That was far more important than mooning over some man, so why she was still here, fascinated by this particular man, she had no idea.

He rose again, his T-shirt still in one hand. He made no move to put it on and when he turned to face her, his incredible body still mostly on show, he didn't smile.

And all of a sudden Anna was certain that the danger she'd sensed from him before was about to make itself known and bizarrely, instead of fear, a sensation that felt a lot like excitement curled through her.

You know this is wrong. Walk away.

But the air between them was thickening with the strangest kind of tension. Hot and electric, like the atmosphere just before a summer storm. She needed to leave, get away from him and his disturbing presence. Get away from the rush of what should not be excitement that crowded in her throat and from the fluttering in her stomach that felt like the wings of a thousand butterflies all beating at once. Get away from this physical response that she knew was wrong and bad for her, yet could not ignore, no matter how hard she tried. But she didn't move. She stayed exactly where she was.

He started towards her like a great panther stalking its prey, moving with purpose, approaching her without any hesitation, coming so close that she could see drops of water glistening on his skin where he hadn't finished drying himself. She could smell, too, the fresh scent of the lake on him, undercut with something warmer, spicier and deeply masculine.

Her breath caught. Did men always smell this good or was it just him? He was so tall she had to tilt her head back to look at him, which she couldn't recall ever having to do with anyone before.

"Look at you." His deep voice was soft and warm with a familiarity that held her rooted to the spot. "You have leaves in your hair." He reached up and she was powerless to stop him as he casually extracted something from the tangle down her back. "You are very beautiful," He added, as he extracted another leaf. Then without any hesitation he slid the fingers of one hand into her hair and closed them into a fist, holding her firmly but very gently, the slight pressure making her tilt her head back ever further.

Anna was absolutely transfixed, her heartbeat so loud she couldn't hear anything else. Couldn't see anything else but the darkening of his eyes. She'd never been touched like that before. Never had a man stand so close she could feel his heat, smell his warm, spicy scent. Never had strong fingers in her hair, carefully securing her.

Hunger rose inside her, forbidden and hot and desperate, though for what she had absolutely no idea, and it scared her.

Cedric watched her. The glint in her eyes had gone molten, like liquid gold in the sunlight, and her cheeks were flushed. Her mouth looked full, as if begging to be kissed, and he could see the fast beat of her pulse at the base of her throat.

"I..." she began in that rich, smoky voice, a thread of heat running through it. "I...don't... I need to..." She fell silent, breathing fast, staring at him.

Then before he could say anything she abruptly turned and fled down the path that led around the lake.

Cedric stood very still, fighting the urge to go after her, catch her. Take her down on the forest floor and distract himself, ground himself in her lithe, strong body.

But his urges were always controlled and he didn't like how uncontrolled this one felt. Anyway, he never chased women, not when they came so easily to him, and so he wasn't about to start, no matter how much the idea appealed to him.

Besides, he had more important matters to take care of.... Like becoming the Duke of Springbrook.

_____________

Cedric Blackwood didn't have very good memories of Haerton Castle. In fact he hated it.

Cedric had lived in Haerton until he was nine and all he could remember of his parents' marriage was them constantly fighting about one thing or the other. After his parents divorced, Cedric went with his mother and his father wanted nothing to do with his mother... or Cedric.

Magnus Blackwood got married again just months after his divorce and had Cedric's half brother, Vincent the next year. Years later, Magnus named Vincent as his heir to be the seventh Duke of Springbrook.

The divorce affected Cedric's mother, Victoria very badly and she completely neglected him, moving on to live her life as she saw fit, leaving Cedric in the hands of her sister, Diana who loved him as her own son. Magnus and Victoria had had an arranged marriage, and Cedric had a feeling that the divorce was a step to the freedom his mother had always wanted.

At first when Cedric found out that Vincent had been made heir over him, he was upset for a while but as he grew, he realized that not becoming Duke also came with its advantages. He could live his life any way he wanted just like his mother. He wouldn't have to deal with certain responsibilities of becoming Duke, and he never had to see his father or Haerton Castle ever again.

Cedric was successful. He didn't need any inheritance whatsoever from his father and it wasn't until three years ago after his father was diagnosed with cancer, that he began to reach out to Cedric. At first Cedric had ignored his calls as he didn't want anything to do with a man who had abandoned him since he was a child, but after Magnus died two months ago, he received the upsetting news that he had left his inheritance to him, including the responsibility of being Duke since his brother, Vincent had died just years before Magnus was diagnosed with cancer. Poor Magnus. Nothing seemed to be going as planned for him.

Cedric didn't really care much about his father's death and he certainly didn't want to be Duke. it meant responsibilities and Cedric wasn't sure he was cut out for it, especially since he'd not thought about being Duke for years. He liked living his life on his own terms and he sure as hell didn't want to move back to Haerton Castle, but now it seemed like he didn't have a choice. The memories of being back at the castle were not pleasant ones and just being back there made him feel sick.

Having arrived just two days ago, he had gone for a run that morning and decided to swim in the lake to clear his head when he had run into the redheaded woman. She was beautiful... very beautiful, and since he had not been to Haerton in a very long time, he understood why she had not recognized him.

He didn't know what had possessed him to touch her like that... Probably all this stress about being Duke getting to him. Maybe he'd call up one of his favorite lovers and invite her to spend a weekend in the wild countryside. She probably wouldn't want to-Katherine was a city girl through and through-but she did like having sex with him and that was a considerable inducement. He was, after all, very, very good at it.

He'd nearly reached the house when his phone went off. He didn't like to answer it when he was out running, but the sixth sense for trouble that had proved itself useful in his business life kicked in, so he stopped and pulled out his phone, glancing down at the screen.

It was Bonnie, his very efficient PA. Which meant it was probably something he needed to deal with. He hit the answer button. "What is it?"

"There's a problem with the will, Sir," she said crisply, getting straight to the point, which was what he liked about her.

Of course there was a problem with the will. When had his father ever given him anything but problems? He stared out at the woods and moors that surrounded the house. "Explain."

"The lawyers have just got back to me. Apparently your ownership of the house is an issue. There are certain...codicils in the will that were overlooked."

This was not a surprise. Even in death Magnus Blackwood was still making sure to torture him.

"What are they?" he asked, part of him knowing already if not what those exact codicils would be, then certainly the intent of them.

"You must be married," Bonnie said and then, uncharacteristically, hesitated.

Everything inside Cedric tensed. "And?" he bit out impatiently.

Bonnie's voice when she spoke was quiet. "And you must also have a son."

____________

"You were going to eventually get married and have children, were you not? I don't see why this is an issue?" Diana told Cedric over the phone, "It was bound to happen,"

Cedric stayed silent. He'd never really thought about getting married, talk more of having children. In fact, he didn't even think he wanted them, nor was he ready for it. The only people who should have made him look forward to marriage had spent their time together being miserable and horrible to one another. As far as he was concerned, marriage was restrictive, unbearable and there was no reason to look forward to it.

"That's not the issue," Cedric replied irritably. "There is no reason for all these conditions. Even after his death, he's still a controlling asshole... Can you imagine? He even has a bride ready for me...He picked out the woman who's supposed to be my duchess too. Can you believe that?"

"Well, yes I can," said Diana in her usual calming voice. Sometimes Cedric wondered if anything ever got to her. "Your father was a very old fashioned man, so I'm not surprised. Look, I'm sure no one will expect you to force this lady.... Whoever she is... To marry you. So why don't you meet her, and decide for yourself if you would like her to be your wife.... If not, or if she says no, then you can start searching for someone else."

"Fine," Cedric agreed and hung up. As far as he was concerned, he and his father were very different people who agreed on nothing, and they certainly wouldn't agree on who he was going to marry. He'd meet this lady, just for the sake of doing so, and then since he had to, he'd find himself a wife of his choosing. To hell with what... Or who Magnus Blackwood wanted.

-----------

A Week later, Anna was upstairs in her father's office giving it a good dusting. It was a small but cozy space at the back of the house, overlooking the little rose garden that she tried to maintain herself since her father hadn't been able to care for it following his stroke. It didn't look like much of a garden now, as she knew next to nothing about caring for roses. But she couldn't afford to employ a gardener, so it was that or nothing.

She had dreams every so often, of going to university and doing a science degree, studying Biology and Natural Sciences, but of course that was impossible. Not when she barely earned enough to cover her and her father's existing expenses and maintenance for the old cottage, let alone for university fees. And then there was the ongoing issue of care for him. She could leave him alone for the day while she worked, but not longer than that.

She definitely wasn't able to leave him while she undertook a degree, though study by distance might be an option. But still there was the issue of fees. It was a situation that both her and her father were unhappy with, but both of them were trapped in it and there wasn't much to be done.

She couldn't leave him alone. He was her father, and she owed it to him. Not only because he'd had to give up his career as a surgeon after his stroke, but also because he'd brought her up after her mother died, and that hadn't been easy. She'd been a difficult child, hard to manage even for the nannies he'd employed. Eventually he'd been forced to bring her up himself, which had greatly impacted on the career he'd wanted for himself-as he'd never ceased to point out to her.

It wasn't his fault that they had no money and the cottage was falling down around their ears. It wasn't his fault that he was limited in what he could do because she wasn't able to help him physically the way he needed her to. It wasn't his fault that she'd basically ruined his life.

Anna knew all that. Just as she knew it was her job to fix it. She frowned ferociously at her duster, her brain sorting through various money-making scenarios. The extra shifts she'd picked up at the cafe would help, but they weren't a good long-term solution. No, she was going to have to think of something else.

Her phone in her jeans pocket buzzed.

She took it out and glanced at the screen, and saw a text from her father:

Come down to the sitting room.

Since his stroke had left him unable to walk with any ease, he'd taken to texting her when he needed her to do something for him. It was a system that worked very well, except when she was in the middle of doing something and he was impatient. But luckily those instances were few and far between.

The Hall was where he usually was, sitting in his old armchair near the brick fireplace when she got downstairs, his handsome face drooping slightly on one side due to the effects of the stroke. He'd always been a stern, serious man who'd never had much time for humor, and today he seemed even more serious than usual.

"Sit down, Anna," he said in sententious tones.

Anna checked-surreptitiously, because he hated it when she fussed-that he had what he needed on the table beside his chair, then sat in the armchair opposite. "What is it, Dad?" she asked.

"I have some news." Anna couldn't help but notice that he seemed agitated, which was very unlike him. "Something that I haven't told you and should have."

A curl of foreboding tightened inside her, but she ignored it. If her father hated her fussing, he hated her worrying more. In fact, he hated all excess emotion, and so Anna had spent many years curbing her wayward feelings and getting them under control.

"That sounds... Serious," she said.

"That's because it is." Her father gave her his usual repressive stare, as if he expected her to start screaming or weeping or performing any other such unwanted emotional display.

When she said nothing, he gave an approving nod. "Well, you recall Magnus Blackwood, don't you? Who died a couple of months ago?"

Anna knew who Magnus Blackwood was. He was the Duke of Springbrook, who owned Haerton and with whom her father had once been friends years earlier. He'd been a virtual recluse for the past two years before he died, and coupled with her father's physical limitations, had meant it was a friendship very much in the past tense even before he died.

Reminded suddenly of Haerton, Anna caught her breath as yet again the memory of what had happened just over a week ago rushed to fill her head. Of the beautiful man coming out of the lake and of the way he'd touched her.

Heat crept into her cheeks and she had to pretend she was examining a loose thread on the edge of the sofa cushion to hide it. The memory of that wretched encounter kept creeping up on her whenever she least expected it, no matter that she'd put the entire incident from her mind the instant she'd fled. And there should be no reason to think of it now. None at all.

"Yes, I remember Magnus Blackwood," she said, forcing the memory away and trying to bring her attention back to her father. "I think I only met him once...Several years ago."