caressed the soft, hot nest of hair at the apex of her thighs and then he touched the even softer, hotter flesh beneath.
Willow stiffened in shock. Reflexively she struggled against Caleb, clamping her legs together and grabbing his hand, trying to push him away. It was like trying to push away a mountain.
«No, Caleb, please don’t!»
«It’s all right,» he said thickly. «I won’t hurt you. Your’re so soft, so hot, perfect for me.»
His hand flexed and his fingertips slid over her with shocking intimacy.
«No, you said just kisses. Oh God, Caleb, please, please, no!»
For an instant Caleb stared down into Willow’s frantic face as they both measured the futility of her struggles against his much greater strength. Where he was touching her she was sultry, yielding, weeping passionately for him. The temptation to take her despite her words was so great that he could feel himself yielding, sinking into the silky fire of her body.
Willow sensed the overwhelming power of Caleb’s body, looked at his savage gold eyes, and prayed that he was a man of his word.
«Caleb,» she whispered. «You promised. Please. Stop.»
Abruptly, Caleb pushed away and surged to his feet, furious with Willow for refusing what her body so plainly wanted and equally furious with himself for wanting her so much he had lost his head. For a long, crackling moment he looked at her.
«Fancy, lady,» he finally said through his teeth, «some day you’ll be on your knees in front of meagaint — but you won’t be begging me to stop.»
Caleb turned on his heel and walked away, leaving his flat, cold promise to echo in the silence.
9
As Caleb had predicted, rain came again to the mountains. The sound of it was welcomed by Willow, for the silence had become oppressive.
Caleb hadn’t been in camp when she had finally gathered her dry clothes and her courage and had returned to the fire. All seven horses still grazed in the meadow, silently telling her that, wherever Caleb had gone, he would be back. The horses couldn’t tell Willow when, however. She gathered edible greens in the meadow and tried to forget what it had been like to be kissed by Caleb Black until the world burst into fire and he was the burning center of it.
Forgetting was impossible. Flashes of memory and sensation splintered through Willow at odd moments, making her shiver with pleasure and yearning.
Rain began to fall while the last scarlet flush of evening still stained the western sky. Willow retreated to the shelter the western sky. Willow retreated to the shelter and changed into her trail clothes. She sat in the doorway and watched for a figure striding through the twilight rain. No one came. Finally she curried up across the entrance and fell asleep.
When Willow woke up, she was between the blankets and Caleb was sharpening his knife while chunks of meat roasted over the fire. The sky was iridescent with a pink, rain-scrubbed dawn. Though she made neither sound nor motion to tell Caleb that she was awake, somehow he knew. He turned and looked toward the shelter.
«Coffee’s hot,» he said, looking back at the whetstone in his hands. The big blade of his hunting knife flashed as he stroked it over the stone. «You’ve got fifteen minutes until we ride. Hear me?»
Willow’s heart sank at the cold distance in his voice. «Yes, I hear you.»
When she returned from the forest, Caleb handed her a stick with a chunk of roasted meat skewered on it. Saying nothing, he went back to honing his knife. Automatically, she bit into the meat.
«Fresh venison,» Willow said, surprised.
Caleb grunted.
«But I didn’t hear a shot,» she pressed, wondering how far Caleb had walked to hunt deer. Gunfire carried for miles between the stone peaks.
«I didn’t use a gun.»
«Then how…?» She glared at him. «Caleb Black, you aren’t going to tell me you caught a deer the same way you caught those silly trout!»
«Not quite, southern lady.» Steel sang huskily against stone. «I used the knife.»
«You threw it?»
«That would be a damn fool thing to do, and despite the evidence yesterday, I’m not a damn fool.»
Willow flushed and tried to apologize. «Caleb, I didn’t mean —»
«I stalked the buck until I was close enough to cut its throat,» Caleb continued, ignoring her attempt to speak.
Her eyes widened in shock. «You what?»
«You heard me.»
«But that’s impossible.»
«You keep telling yourself that while you eat your venison. But don’t take too long over it. We’ve got a high pass to cross before it rains again.»
Calmly, Caleb tested the knife’s edge against the hair on his forearm. The blade was sharp enough to shave with. Satisfied, he returned the knife to its sheath, reached for the shotgun, and began methodically taking it apart an cleaning it.
Willow ate breakfast while she watched Caleb clean the shotgun, rifle, and six-gun. Clearly he was a man at home with the weapons. He worked quickly yet thoroughly, with an economy of motion that was fascinating to her. The skill, precision, and delicacy of his big hands made memories splinter inside her, showering her with sensations.
«Caleb,» she began huskily.
«Southern lady, do you suppose you could be bothered to get off your rump and groom your own horse? The kisses were nice enough, but I’m still not standing in line to be your maid.»
Caleb’s voice stung like a whip, making Willow angry at herself and at him. «That’s good, because I’m not standing in line for your kisses, either?»
She dropped her half-eaten venison in the fire and stalked out to the meadow.
Willow made no attempt to speak to Caleb again. They left the meadow in a silence broken only by the creak of saddles and the rhythmic beating of hooves. An hour into the ride, he reined in at the top of a long rise and let the horses blow while he carefully searched the area ahead with his spyglass. Then he took out his journal and filled in more of the blank spaces on the map he had been keeping of their route since Canyon City. When he finished, Willow still hadn’t come alongside. Impatiently he turned Trey and rode back to her.
«Come up where you can see,» he said.
Willow urged Dove to the top of the ridge. The view from there was breathtaking. Willow sat in rapt silence, looking out over the land.
Before her, a clearing in the forest stretched for miles between widely separated ranges of mountains. Aspen and evergreens defined the creases of the land and the flanks of the mountains, but most of the open area was covered in grass and wild flowers. A cobalt blue river coiled lazily through the park. Beaver ponds shimmered in shades of emerald and blue. Towering above it all, dominating even the untouched magnificence of the sky, were dark, ice-shattered peaks. Snow frosted the higher altitudes, gradually thickening into the glittering white of year-roundicefields.
«See over to the left, where those two peaks look like a dog with one chewed ear?» Caleb asked.
«Yes.»
«I want you to ride along the left side of the park, heading for the peak that looks chewed. If you see anything you don’t like, run for the forest. If anyone comes after you, use the shotgun on whatever is within range.»
Willow looked from the mountains to the man who was sitting on his horse only few feet away from her, yet
