After a few more moments, Caleb reluctantly released Willow’s shivering flesh and kissed a path up her body. Her eyes opened, dazed by the pleasure whose aftermath was still rippling through her in ever widening rings.
«Such beautiful eyes,» Caleb said. «Beautiful mouth, beautiful breasts, beautiful…woman.»
Willow saw the luminous approval in Caleb’s glance and shivered again. She slid her arms around him, urging him to press full length against her, needing to feel him along her whole body. Understanding her need, for it was also his own, he braced his weight on his elbows and lowered himself until he touched every inch of her.
Sighing, Willow hugged Caleb even closer, quivering with every other breath, still captive to the ecstasy he had given her. The weight and textures of his body covering hers felt incredibly good. Without thinking, she rubbed against him, liking the heat and strength of him. He eased more of his weight onto her, no longer trying to keep her from feeling all of him. When she sensed the hard masculine need in him, her breath came in swiftly.
«You have the damnedest effect on me,» Caleb said, his voice gritty and rueful. «So stop wriggling and hug me until it goes away.»
«Is that the way it works?»
«I don’t know. I’ve never had this problem before.»
«You haven’t?»
«No,» he admitted, biting Willow’s ear delicately. «Just with you.»
Willow gasped and tightened her grip on his big body. The heat and power in Caleb sent pleasure rippling through her once more. Instinctively, she shifted, wanting to bring him even closer. He tried to throttle a groan but was only partially successful.
«Caleb?» she asked huskily.
«Hold still, honey.»
«I have a better idea.»
Willow’s legs shifted again, separating until she could feel the blunt thrust of his hunger pressing against her. She moved her hips slowly, wanting a different kind of closeness. The sound of Caleb’s breath hissing out told her that he was as aware of her welcoming, sultry core as she was.
«Damn it, Willow. I don’t want to hurt you.»
«Does the key hurt the lock?» she whispered.
«Not when they’re made for each other. Were you made for me, little cat?»
«Yes,» she said huskily. «Only for you. Take what’s yours, Caleb. Give me what is mine.»
For a long, burning moment he looked down into Willow’s hazel eyes, in thrall to her honesty. Certainty condensed within him, the realization that he could no more turn away from her than a river could run back from the sea.
Caleb breathed Willow’s name as he bent to kiss her. Slowly he claimed what was his and gave what was hers, merging their bodies a shimmering fraction at a time, feeling the sharing all the way to his soul. The breath came out of her in a long, rippling sigh that was his name. He wanted to ask if he was hurting her, but before he could find the words, her body answered. The tiny, secret contractions of her pleasure urged him deeper, gilding him with her response. He answered with a silky pulse that mingled his essence with hers, easing his way even more until their joining was deep and complete.
The feeling was exquisite. Willow’s eyes opened as she felt herself coming slowly undone, ecstasy stealing through her. She whispered Caleb’s name, trying to tell him of the beauty he was giving her, but she knew no words to describe the transformation taking place in her body. His kiss told her that he understood, that he was being transformed as surely as she was. She heard her own name breathed against her lips, sensed the pulses of his ecstasy rippling through his body into hers.
The knowledge that Caleb was coming undone as slowly and completely as she was sent another shimmering tide through Willow, consuming her and him as well, fusing them in a union that was both primitive and sublime. Neither knew where self ended and other began, for there was no self, no other, simply an incandescent whole where once two halves had been.
14
«How is he?» Willow asked.
«Good as new. All Deuce needed was some time doing nothing except eating his fool head off.»
Caleb slapped Deuce on his haunch, sending the big horse trotting into the meadow’s evening silence once more. The bullet wound had healed cleanly. The strained foreleg had taken longer, but now there was no hesitation in the horse’s stride.
«He’s moving well,» she said. «Not a bit of a limp anymore.»
The unhappiness in Willow’s voice was at odds with her words, but Caleb understood what she meant. He felt the same way. The eighteen days he had spent with her in the hidden valley was as close to heaven as he ever expected to come. Now that Deuce was sound again and the Arabians were better accustomed to high altitude, there was no excuse to linger.
«We can stay longer,» Caleb said abruptly, speaking aloud the thought that had haunted him more and more frequently since he had discovered Willow’s innocence. «We don’t have to go haring off after your damned brother. If we were meant to find him, we’ll find him no matter where we are. And if we weren’t meant to find him, so be it.»
Willow flinched at the hard edge to Caleb’s voice. She had grown accustomed to his laughter, his gentleness, and his unbridled sensuality. Not once in the past eighteen days had she seen the bleak archangel that was also part of him. She had almost forgotten it was there.
«If it were just me, I’d never leave this valley,» Willow said unhappily. «But Matt must need help or he wouldn’t have written to his brothers. It was just his bad luck that no one was left at home except me.» She smiled at Caleb and added in a soft voice, «But it was my good luck, because it led me to you.»
Caleb closed his eyes and tried to control the unreasonable anger snaking through his veins — anger at Willow, at himself, and most of all at the simple fact that once Reno was found, Willow was irretrievably lost.
«I’d rather stay in Eden,» Caleb said roughly.
«So would I, my love,» she said, going to him. «So would I.»
Willow slid her arms around Caleb and held him, savoring the familiar warmth and strength of him. His arms closed around her a little fiercely, lifting her off her feet. He kissed her hard and deep before he set her firmly on the ground once more and pinned her with a glance so savage she made a sound of protest.
«Remember,» Caleb said harshly, «you were the one who wanted to go looking for him. I was willing to leave it to God.»
«What do you mean?»
Caleb’s smile was as thin and fierce as the blade of the big knife he always wore, but he said nothing more.
«Caleb?» she asked fearfully.
«Dig out your map, southern lady.»
She flinched at the tone of his voice and at the nickname he hadn’t used since they had come to the valley. «My map?»
«The one you have hidden somewhere in that big carpetbag,» Caleb said, turning away from Willow, walking back toward camp.
«How did you know?» she asked, dazed.
«Easy. Gold-hunting fools always draw maps for other fools to follow.»
The savagery in Caleb’s voice startled Willow. She stared after him uncertainly before she followed.
When she arrived in camp, Caleb was stirring the ashes of their breakfast fire. He didn’t even look up as she went to the unwieldy carpetbag that was her only luggage and began rummaging through its contents. He didn’t look at her when she ripped apart a section of lining and withdrew a folded piece of paper. He didn’t look at her at all until she walked slowly up to the fire, map in hand.
