«Any other runnels?» Reno asked as he emerged from the shallow hole in the mountain, a lantern in his hand.
«Not that I’ve found,» Whip said. «And yes, I looked carefully.»
«I believe you. A man looking for freedom is real careful.»
Whip’s mouth flattened, but he didn’t deny what Reno was saying.
«The gold is for Shannon,» Whip said.
«Uh huh. Regular little gold digger, that one.»
«Damn it, Reno —»
«Put your ruff down,» Reno interrupted calmly. «We both know the gold is as much for your freedom as for Shannon’s security. If you can’t stand hearing the truth, then maybe you better take a long look at what you’re doing.»
Whip gave his brother a cold, level stare. «I know what I’m doing.»
Reno shrugged. «I thought I did, too, last autumn. Then you dumped a saddlebag full of pure gold bars at my feet and told me I was a goddamned fool.»
«And you’re thinking I’m the fool now, is that it?»
«I’m thinking that’s one fine woman whose heart you’re going to break. Too bad she was a virgin. That will make it harder when —»
«It’s none of your business,» Whip interrupted, his voice flat, dangerous.
«The hell you say. I’m the one finding gold so you can pay off your conscience and go back to chasing sunrises.»
Whip shifted his stance slightly, menacingly.
Reno’s answering smile was as narrow as his eyes.
«That’s it,» Reno goaded. «Jump me. Maybe I can pound some sense into your thick skull. Sure as hell someone should.»
«Pound rock. It’s softer.»
«Smarter, too.»
Abruptly Reno turned away, cutting off whatever Whip had been about to say.
«Three days ago I would have given you the fight you want,» Reno said over his shoulder. «But I’m slam out of patience at the moment. I’m going back to camp before I lay my revolver along your thick skull. Shannon doesn’t need a bloodied, banged-up yondering idiot to worry about. Her worry plate is plumb full as it is.»
WHEN Shannon awoke, the stars were just fading from the sky. In the distance she heard the murmur of male voices. There was no crackle of campfire or smell of coffee in the crisp air.
«Whip? Reno?» she called. «Do you want breakfast?»
«Go back to sleep,» Whip called. «Reno and I are just talking about the claims. I’ll wake you when it’s time to start back to the cabin.»
Sighing, Shannon rolled over and pulled the blankets up to her eyebrows. Nights were always chilly in the high country. More than once during the darkness she had wished for the warmth and comfort of Whip holding her close while she slept. It had been so easy to get used to the luxury of his presence.
Whip had set up his bedroll across the campfire, where his brother slept. Prettyface had kept Shannon company, but not for long. The dog preferred not to sleep near the campfire, as though the bright flames and pungent smoke dulled his canine senses. He kept to the perimeter of the camp, well away from the people he guarded so carefully.
When Whip walked past Prettyface on the way back to camp, the dog lifted his huge, blunt head and thumped his tail against the ground several times in silent greeting.
«Your mistress is still sleeping, isn’t she?» Whip asked softly. «Good. I could use a little rest myself. Didn’t sleep worth a damn last night. Stay here and guard us.»
Soundlessly Whip went to the place where Shannon was. He took off his heavy jacket and slid beneath the blankets, stretching out next to her. Shannon murmured sleepily and turned toward him, burrowing into his warmth, nuzzling against him, sighing.
At first Whip thought that she had awakened. Then he felt the utter relaxation of her body and knew that she was deeply asleep. The realization that Shannon turned toward him even when she was asleep was like a silver needle of emotion stitching through Whip’s soul, pain and pleasure combined.
Shannon, don’t love me. I don’t want to hurt you, honey girl.
The only answer that came was the smell of spearmint and woman combined.
Whip’s heart turned over and his body hardened in a savage rush. He knew he couldn’t stay with Shannon for much longer…but he could make a lifetime of every moment they had together.
Slowly Whip eased beneath the blankets, breathing deeply of warm, woman-scented air.
I would love to kiss those sweet breasts, but I shouldn’t wake her.
Even as Whip told himself that Shannon needed sleep more than she needed loving, his hands were moving over her old, painfully clean shirt.
Silk and lace lay warmly beneath, shocking in their femininity after the man’s shirt.
What the hell…! Where did she get this?
Long fingers untied silk bows one by one. But it was Whip’s mouth rather than his hands that moved the silk aside, discovering the even softer silk of Shannon’s skin.
Shannon murmured and sighed and shifted, lifting herself to his kisses.
Whip hesitated and asked very softly. «Shannon?»
Her only answer was a sigh. Except for the subtle tightening of her nipples beneath his lips, her body was still completely relaxed, trusting him in a way no one ever had.
Even himself.
Honey girl, how am I going to live without you?
His tongue touched the tip of each breast. The velvety hardness of Shannon’s nipples teased his lips, silently asking for another kind of caress. He gave it to her softly, delicately, holding her within his warmth even as he tugged her nipples to hard peaks with his mouth.
Shannon’s body moved languidly, held between the heat of Whip’s caresses and the growing heat of her dreams.
Don’t wake up yet, sweet woman. Let me taste your dreams.
Long fingers found and unfastened Shannon’s pants, pushing the loose fabric down her legs and over her feet. She stirred restlessly, then calmed when Whip held her close.
«It’s just me, honey girl,» he murmured against her ear.
Shannon made a sleepy sound and cuddled even more closely against Whip.
He lay very still, trying to slow the savage hammering of his heart that had begun when his fingers encountered the silky underwear. He wanted to look at Shannon wearing only that bit of softness and lace. He wanted it until sweat gathered in the small of his back.
But he wanted to touch her sleeping dreams even more.
Whip knew if he cast off the covers so that the swelling light of dawn could bathe Shannon, she would awaken. So he held her until she lay relaxed in his arms once more. Then he eased slowly down her body beneath the blankets, his mouth following the opening in the chemise, tracing the margin between silk underwear and satin skin.
Shannon stirred as heat flushed her body, a seething warmth that was summoned by Whip’s slow, thorough loving. She sighed and her hips moved in the languid rhythms of his caresses.
Her sensuous response consumed Whip as softly and completely as he was consuming her. The world became infused with heat and the elemental perfume of a woman’s desire.
Honey girl, Whip groaned silently. God, I could die trying to get enough of you.
A tiny, shuddering sound escaped Shannon’s lips. It was Whip’s name, called as much in dream as in waking.
He answered with a silky movement of his mouth and her name whispered into the seething darkness beneath the blankets.
For a time Shannon could find no difference between her dream and the hot awakening that flushed her skin. Then pleasure speared softly through her, stopping her breath. When the sweet, pulsing sensations passed,
