«That feels so good,» Willow said, moving her head slowly, increasing the pressure of Caleb’s hands rubbing away pain.
«Good,» he said, enjoying the warmth of her breath against his bare skin.
For a time there was silence. Then Willow sighed again and spoke.
«I’ll never be able to repay you.»
He laughed. «I’ll let you rub my head in return.»
«I meant for my mares. Thank you, Caleb.»
«They were too good to lose over something that wasn’t their fault.»
«I know,» she said simply. «It was mine.»
Caleb smoothed the back of his fingers over Willow’s temples. «You didn’t build these mountains, honey. God did.»
She smiled sadly. «But I hired a mountain guide and then refused to listen to his advice. I came very close to killing my beautiful mares who had done nothing except follow where I led them. They would have died if you hadn’t gone back for them. I couldn’t have done it. I tried, but…» Her voice broke.
«Hush, honey. It’s not your fault.»
She shook her head and whispered, «I wasn’t strong enough. You were. You didn’t have to go after them, but you went anyway, even though you’d had hardly any sleep in days.»
Caleb’s hands hesitated on Willow’s temples, then he resumed slowly stroking her forehead. Her willingness to accept responsibility for the choices she made continued to surprise him. He had known few men and fewer women who didn’t pass the blame when things turned out badly and grab the praise when things went well.
The longer Caleb was around Willow, the more he realized she wasacustomed to taking care of herself and anyone else who was nearby. She was a far cry from the spoiled southern lady he had first thought her to be.
God must have been asleep when He let Willow go to a heel like Reno. She’s too damn good for him. She can’t know what Reno’s like or she never would have given herselftohim. I’ll be doing her a favor when I bury that son of a bitch.
She’ll be my woman before she sees him again. I’m not leaving this valley until Willow is mine in a way that nothing can change, not even the death of her fancy man.
«Thank you for my mares, Caleb,» Willow repeated quietly, resting her head against his chest. «I owe you more than I can ever repay.»
«Willow,» Caleb whispered.
She opened her eyes and tilted her head back until she could see him. The glints of color in her hazel depths had never seemed more beautiful to Caleb than at that moment.
«You saved my life when Deuce was shot,» he said. «You brought me ammunition and fought beside me afterward. You don’t owe me anything at all.»
«And how many times have you saved my life since we left Denver?»
«That’s different.»
«It is?»
«Yes.» Caleb bent and brushed a kiss over Willow’s lips. «That’s what you hired me to do.»
«You’re very good at your work…and at other things as well.»
Willow had been thinking of his care for the horses, but the instant the words were out of her mouth, she thought of other things he was breathtakingly good at. Color flooded her cheeks.
Caleb smiled crookedly and teased her lips with the tip of his tongue. «Really?» he asked. «What things are those?»
«You know very well what they are,» she muttered.
«No, I don’t,» he said, shaking his head. The motion brushed kisses over her mouth. «Tell me.»
Willow looked away and wished she would learn to think before she spoke. She had never been particularly impulsive before she met Caleb. But since she had met him, she was forever admitting to things that made her blush.
«I bet it’s that I’m good at finding riding clothes for you in the middle of nowhere,» Caleb suggested.
Willow’s lips quirked in a small smile. She looked up at Caleb through long, dark amber eyelashes. «That’s one of the things.»
«And finding saddles.»
Her smiled widened. «Yes.»
«And catching trout.»
Color stained her cheekbones.
«Is that it, Willow?» Caleb asked. His hands moved from her temples to just below her ribs. His muscles shifted and flexed as he lifted her slowly until she was at eye level. «Is that one of the things you think I’m good at? Catching trout?»
She nodded and said huskily, «You’re especially good at that.»
For the space of several heartbeats Caleb looked hungrily at Willow’s full pink lips. Then he bent and took them in a swift, searing kiss that made her stiffen in surprise. His tongue slid between her lips to the smooth surface of her clenched teeth.
«Open for me,» he whispered. «Let me taste all that warm honey.»
He nipped at her lower lip. When she gasped in surprise, he twisted his head and took her mouth, teasing her tongue with his own until she trembled between his hands. At last, she sighed and touched her tongue lightly, shyly along his, returning the kiss. Willow’s odd combination of reticence and response reminded Caleb of his promise to himself — that the next time he kissed Willow, it would be because she asked for him.
But he hadn’t been able to wait. Slowly, reluctantly, cursing the passion Willow aroused so effortlessly in him, Caleb lifted his head. When he opened his eyes, she was watching his lips with wonder.
«Is kissing one of the things I’m good at?» Caleb asked hungrily.
Willow turned a shade of pink that was as deep as her lips. «Caleb!»
«If I’m not good, tell me what I’m doing wrong. I want to please you, Willow. I want to pleasure you all the way to your soul. I want that,» he whispered against her mouth, «very much.»
The trembling of Willow’s lips beneath his own as she whispered his name was the sweetest thing Caleb had ever felt. Despite the hunger that poured in hot waves through his body, he made the kiss gentle, undemanding, taking nothing that she didn’t first give to him.
The chaste kiss surprised Willow, for she could feel the passionate tension in Caleb’s hard body. His restraint also reassured her, just as his willingness to stop touching her earlier had. Nor had he seemed angry when he stopped this morning. He had been angry the other time, when he had combed her hair and kissed her so deeply and touched the soft flesh no man had ever touched before. Stopping then had made him furious.
But not today. Today, Caleb wasn’t angry at all. Today, sunlight and honey ran in Willow’s veins.
Her hands went from the flexed strength of Caleb’s biceps to his shoulders. The wool of his shirt no longer pleased her fingers. She sought the living warmth beneath and sighed with pleasure to find it. Catlike, she kneaded his muscles, enjoying the feeling of the hair that grew in black swirls over his chest.
Caleb waited for Willow to open her lips, offering a more passionate kiss, but he waited in vain. She gave back a kiss as chaste as he had given to her, then she sighed and stroked and petted him until he wanted to groan. The feel of her delicate hands on his skin was setting him on fire, as was the obvious enjoyment she took in his body.
Yet she made no move to deepen the kiss, to join her mouth with his once again in a prelude to a more intimate kind of mating.
Puzzled, Caleb wondered if Reno was the kind of man who liked to hurt women in bed. That would explain Willow’s instant fear when she had felt Caleb’s hand between her legs, but it wouldn’t explain Rebecca’s persistence in protecting her lover’s identity. Rebecca had beencossetted and frankly spoiled. She had been full of mischief and love and life. A man who was cruel to her would never have won her heart, her chastity, and her loyalty. She would have required a gentleman before she gave herself.
Abruptly Caleb realized that he was no one’s definition of a gentleman, especially at the moment. He smelled of horses and hard work and clothes that had been worn too long. Willow didn’t. She smelled of lavender and meadow grass and sunshine. No wonder she was reluctant to get closer to him. Now that Caleb thought about
