What did that bastard Reno do to make her so skittish of a man?
«Quit torturing your lip, honey,» Caleb said finally. «I didn’t mean to crowd you. Just leave the razor. I’ll shave myself. It won’t be the first time.»
«But there’s no mirror.»
«I’ll find a quiet piece of water.»
«My — my hands are shaking,» Willow said, wanting to explain why she wasn’t going to shave him.
«I can see that. Go on back to camp. I’ll be along in a few minutes.»
She drew a deep breath, but couldn’t bring herself to leave. She wanted to stay too much. Lifting the blanket, looking only at her feet, she waded across the tepid creek that flowed from the pool into the meadow. Under Caleb’s watchful eyes, she picked her way around the pool until she could place the folding razor within reach of his long arm. Telling herself she shouldn’t look, but unable to keep from a single swift glance, she realized that Caleb was right. The water covered more of him that the blanket had.
Most of the time.
But sometimes, for just an instant, the froth would swirl away and offer a tantalizing glimpse of the man beneath the seething silver water. Before Willow could realize what she had seen, the currents would shift again, concealing everything but Caleb’s wide shoulders rising above the pool.
Slowly, Willow settled by the edge of the water, rearranging the blanket so that she could sit without revealing more than her naked feet. After a moment of taut silence, Caleb reached for the soap he had brought and began lathering his wet beard. When he finished, he held his hand out for the razor. Willow put half of the folding blade in his hand, but held onto the other half.
«If you trust me not to cut you, I would like to shave you.»
Caleb closed his eyes, afraid that Willow would see the stark hunger in them. «I’d like that.»
«I don’t think I can reach you from here. Can you move closer to the edge?»
«Not without making you blush.» He hesitated before adding matter-of-factly, «There’s room for you to stand near me, if you don’t mind getting wet again. Your hair will cover whatever the water doesn’t.»
Willow looked at Caleb. His eyes were closed and his body was relaxed on the wide ledge, as though the hot water hadunravelled the constant vigilance that was so much a part of him. Reassured by his casual acceptance of the situation, she pulled her hair forward until it covered her breasts, took off the blanket, and set it beyond the reach of the dancing water. Carefully, she eased into the pool. She had bathed on the other side, where the pool deepened gradually. It got deep very quickly here.
Her foot slipped and she made a startled sound. Instantly, Caleb’s hands closed around her waist.
«Hang on,» he said. He lifted Willow and settled her sideways across his knees, shifted his grip, and held her out in front of him. «There’s another ledge of rock somewhere close to my feet. Find it?»
After a moment of fishing around with her toes, Willow nodded, looking everywhere but at Caleb. The instant of feeling his bare legs beneath her wet bottom had doubled her heartbeat.
«Can you stand?» he asked.
Willow tried, but the water was almost up to her breasts and quite turbulent, for she was in the direct flow of the cascade. After a few attempts, she managed to brace herself against the stone ledge and between Caleb’s knees.
«All right?» Caleb asked.
«I think so.»
He smiled slightly, settled back, and closed his eyes. «Make damn sure, honey. I only have one throat.»
Willow laughed and felt better. Caleb was so matter-of-fact about the situation that she felt foolish being nervous.
«Hold still now,» she cautioned.
As it had been during the battle with theComancheros, once Willow had a task for her hands, they stopped trembling. She shaved Caleb with quick, deft motions, washing the blade after each stroke. The lather vanished within seconds, torn apart by the currents that boiled softly throughout the pool.
Caleb sat motionless, but not from fear of being cut. He was afraid if he moved it would be to grab the trout that had so nearly come within his reach. The knowledge of his own nakedness and Willow’s body so close by aroused him violently. The gentleness of her hands caring for him was also arousing, but in a different way. It brought a feeling of being cherished that strengthened rather than weakened his self-control.
«Almost done,» Willow said, rinsing the razor. «You want to keep your mustache, don’t you?»
«Damn straight,» he said dryly.
«Good. I like the feel of it on my skin,» she said, concentrating on her work rather than her words. «There. That’s it. All clean.»
She rinsed the razor, folded it, and looked up into the tawny blaze of Caleb’s eyes. He took the razor and set it on a rock without looking away from Willow.
«Do you really?» he asked, his voice deep.
«Do I what?»
«Like the feel of my mustache on your skin?»
Willow heard the echo of her own incautious words. Color stained her cheekbones. «Close your eyes.»
«Why? I’ve seen you blush before.»
«I’m going to rinse off your face.»
Cupping her palms, she tried to bring warm water to his cheeks, but more water drained away than touched him.
«Here,» Caleb said. He put his hands beneath Willow’s, then lowered them until they were a few inches beneath the water. He bent his head and moved his face from side to side, stroking his cheeks against her hands. When the last of the lather was gone, he took her hands from the water and kissed the center of her palms. «Thank you, Willow. No woman has ever cared enough to shave me.»
Of their own accord, Willow’s fingers moved from Caleb’s face to his hair, tangling softly in the thick, damp strands. «I’ll cut your hair, too, if you like.»
«I’d rather you let me kiss you. Will you do that?» he asked.
She smiled. «Yes, I think I will. I like your kisses, Caleb. I like them very much.»
A faint shudder went through him. «That’s a dangerous thing to say to me.»
«Why?»
«Come here and I’ll tell you.»
Willow leaned closer, only to lose her footing on the lower ledge. It didn’t matter. Caleb’s hands had already closed around her. He leaned forward, holding her upright in the seething water. The brush of his mustache across her lips made her shiver with anticipation.
«I want to taste you,» he said against her mouth. «Let me in, honey. Let me kiss you the way we both want it.»
His teeth closed on Willow’s lower lip in a caress that was both sensuous demand and sensual plea. She made a small sound and opened her mouth, wanting the kiss as much as he did. The slow penetration and retreat of his tongue made her hands clench on his arms. She wanted more of his taste, of his caresses, of him. She wanted to be as close to him as the untamed pool.
With a small, hungry sound, Willow gave back the kiss in the only way she knew, the way Caleb had taught her, a teasing dance of tongue against tongue, warmth against warmth, hunger stroking hunger until they were locked together in mutual exploration and demand. Vaguely she sensed herself being lifted and turned until she was astride his legs, but her only thought was to lure him even more completely into the kiss, wanting to become so much a part of him that the kiss would never end.
Slowly, gently, relentlessly, Caleb separated himself from the embrace. Fighting for the control he had felt slipping away with each honeyed stroke of Willow’s tongue, he looked at her with a raw hunger he couldn’t conceal.
«Willow,» he said hoarsely. «My God…»
Shuddering, Caleb closed his eyes against the picture she made, her lips reddened by the passionate kiss, her hair floating in golden streams around both of them, her breasts revealed through the wet lace of her camisole, her back arched over his arm, her long legs astride his. The memory of how herpantelets opened went through him in a savage stroke of need. If he moved forward just a few inches, he would be brushing unhindered
