MISSING SCENE FROM "TRAPPED"

I suppose I couldn't really expect to see a M/R scene like this in the show - but, I sure would've liked to:

After what happened in "Trapped," Roxton expects that an understanding has been reached between him and Marguerite - that a longstanding wall has been breached. He is confident that, now that she has admitted her love for him, Marguerite will relent of her stubborn self-sufficiency, and let Roxton into her life without reservation. Yet, as the days go by, Roxton is exasperated, then annoyed, then truly angry, to discover that Marguerite is as difficult as ever, and acts as if the events of "Trapped" never occurred. His patience exhausted, Roxton corners her one night in the treehouse, and backs her against the wall. Marguerite, being who she is, only becomes all the more defiant for being cornered; her chin is thrust out and her shoulders squared as his arms, on either side of her, palms against the wall, prevent her from escaping. His jaw is tight with the tension he feels. Marguerite swallows ... hard. Roxton forgets all the furious words he means to say to her, at the sight of her white neck, and the rasping sound of her breath; he pushes her, roughly, against the treehouse wall and kisses her mouth, breathes in her uneven gasps, and tangles his big hands in her streaming hair. Marguerite's knees weaken, and fail her: Roxton is gratified to discover he has to hold her up, and thrusts his knee in between her legs, and his strong arms on her back support her. He impatiently tears at the buttons on her blouse, feeling her heart beating wildly against his hand.

Roxton can't stop tangling his hands in the long strands of Marguerite's dark hair, or sliding them slowly down her smooth back; he kisses her half-open mouth over and over again. Marguerite presses the length of her body against his - the flat stomach, the bones of his hips, and the hard lines of his thighs. She secretly draws strength from his firm body, and inhales his ragged breath as she kisses him, inhaling his loyalty and his love. She wraps herself around the knee he has thrust in between her legs and lets it be her anchor. She says his name, her lips moving against his shoulder, and then turns her lovely face up to his. The line of his jaw is a delicacy to her, something to savor, and taste, and treasure; his velvet eyes bind her as surely as iron chains around her slim wrists and ankles. They are both a bit in awe of power of the emotion pulsing wildly between them, and so have trouble meeting each other's eyes. Roxton is eager, exuberant, and uncontrollably thirsty for his Marguerite, plunging into the depth of his love without restraint. Marguerite is more cautious; she attempts to gage the depth of the ocean, which beckons to her, but she cannot safely calculate it. While she hesitates on the shore, a powerful wave breaks over her, and sweeps her, not really resisting, out to sea. And now, she can do nothing to change things.