Before Shannon could answer, Whip took her mouth again. His tongue shot between her teeth as his hands slid down to her hips, lifting her, fitting the soft nest above her thighs to the rigid male flesh she had called from his body. He rocked her sensuously against his arousal while his tongue mated with hers in a fierce, elemental rhythm.
Wild pleasure streaked through Shannon, shaking her. She couldn’t get her breath because she was holding on to Whip too hard. He was holding her even harder in turn, but she still couldn’t get close enough to him. She was dizzy for lack of air, yet she pressed even more violently against Whip’s mouth, needing the deep kiss in a way she didn’t understand.
And then he dragged her hips against his rigid flesh.
A ragged moan was torn from Shannon’s throat. The sound could have been pain or fear or passion, or all three together.
Abruptly Whip realized that he was devouring Shannon’s mouth, crushing her to his body with both arms and grinding his hips against her as though he would have her here, now, standing up like a whore in an alley.
Shuddering, Whip tore his mouth from Shannon’s and loosened his arms. He let her slide down his body until her feet touched the floor.
She made a questioning sound and touched her lips with fingers that jerked slightly with each quick breath she took.
Unhappily Whip looked at Shannon’s face. Against the bloody marks left by his savaged hands, her skin looked pale. Her eyes were dilated and her lips were soft, trembling, parted as she dragged raggedly at air. She swayed until she reached out blindly and steadied herself against the wall.
«Are you all right?» Whip asked.
He wanted to be gentle, but the question came out rough. His voice was harsh with the blood that was still pumping fiercely through his body.
«I feel —» Shannon’s breath broke. «Dizzy. Crazy. I can’t breathe and I’m shaking like I’m cold but parts of me are on fire and I’m burning and I want — I want — oh, God, I don’t know what I want! What did you do to me, Whip?»
For a long moment Whip looked at Shannon, hardly able to believe what he was hearing.
«How long have you been married?» he asked finally.
«What does that — have to do with — how I feel?»
The breaking of Shannon’s breath acted on Whip like tongues of fire licking over his aroused flesh, making him ache until he had to clench his teeth against a groan.
«It has everything to do with it,» Whip said thickly. «What you’re feeling is passion, honey girl. Pure and wild and hotter than hell.»
«I don’t — understand.»
Whip made a sound that could have been a curse or a prayer or both at once.
«Your husband wasn’t much of a man to cozy up with on a cold night, was he?» Whip said between his teeth.
«Silent John wasn’t — that is, heisn’t — a warm man.»
«Are you telling me that you haven’t ever felt sexual desire like this before?»
«This?» Shannon drew a ragged breath and looked at Whip with burning blue eyes. «This is desire?»
«Son of a bitch,» Whip whispered, shocked. «You mean it, don’t you?»
She nodded.
«As naive as an egg,» Whip muttered. «God. Silent John must have been about as much fun in bed as a rattlesnake. No wonder you don’t mind being his widow — he’s been as good as dead to you for years!»
Shannon’s breath caught at the contempt in Whip’s voice. She shivered and wrapped her arms protectively around herself.
As naive as an egg.
Abruptly, Shannon’s desire was transformed into anger.
Whip has no right to act so superior just because I’m not as knowing about men as Clementine or Betsy.
But Shannon wasn’t going to open the subject again by pointing that out.
«Don’t call me a widow,» Shannon said through her teeth.
«Why? It’s likely the truth and you know it.»
«But if the truth goes beyond this cabin, who will protect me from the Culpeppers after you leave? And you will leave, won’t you?Yondering man.»
«Yes,» Whip said harshly, stung by the anger and distance in Shannon’s voice. «I’ll leave one day. But not until I find a safe place for you to stay.»
«As long as I’m Silent John’s wife, I’m safe enough here.»
«That’s crap, Shannon. You’re his widow, not his wife, and this place isn’t safe for a girl alone. Especially one as naive as you!»
«It has been for seven years.»
«Only because Silent John was here with you,» Whip retorted. «Without him you wouldn’t last two months.»
Shannon barely bit back the hot retort that was crowding her tongue. Telling Whip the truth would do no good, and could do a great deal of harm.
«I’ll live where I please,» she said tightly.
«Alone?»
«Yes.»
«You can’t.»
«I can!» she said savagely. «And what business is it of yours how I live, yondering man? You have no right to order me about like I was bound by law to you.»
Whip was appalled by the idea of Shannon’s living alone through the winter in Echo Basin’s high, icy wilderness, having no one to depend upon but herself. He shook his head, said something profane beneath his breath, and raked his hand through his hair in frustration.
His fingers were bright with his own blood, blood drawn by Prettyface in defense of his naive, stubborn mistress.
When Shannon saw Whip’s fingers, she felt her hot, inexplicable rage at him drain away, leaving only an edgy kind of concern for his wounds.
«Come on,» Shannon said, turning away. «One secret spilled between us won’t matter.»
«What?»
Without a word Shannon walked to the dry goods cupboard. She opened the door, pushed on the center of a shelf, and stepped forward into the darkness.
An instant later she vanished.
The warm, humid smell of a hot spring floated back out to Whip, along with Shannon’s voice.
«Silent John told me never to tell anyone about the hot spring, but…»
Shannon’s voice died. Light flared as she struck a match and set it to a lantern’s wick. Glass clinked quietly as she replaced the chimney. A warm yellow glow spread out to Whip.
«Well, come on,» Shannon said impatiently. «Silent John swore by — swearsby — the healing power of the spring, and your hands are pretty well chewed.»
«I’ll be damned,» Whip said, stepping toward the cupboard. «So this is why he built the cabin right into the mountainside.»
Shannon shrugged. «All I know is the hot spring boils meat and washes clothes and dishes real clean at the far end, and is just right for bathing at this end. Everywhere else, the hot spring keeps the worst of the cold at bay when I can’t get out to gather wood in the winter.»
Shannon set the lantern on a wooden crate that had once held ammunition. Light transformed twists of steam into ghostly golden wraiths.
Whip ducked low as he went through the cupboard. Once inside the cave, he saw that the ceiling was high enough for him to stand upright. Lantern light glanced off the rocky walls and uneven floor, and made the many
