robust ride in the country, had found it irksome.
Suddenly Claire’s horse stumbled on some unseen obstacle in the snow. Alarmed, it reared up. Claire fought for control, but she’d been taken by surprise, and she fell to the ground, landing on her back with a crash that made Randall wince in sympathy.
“Claire!” he cried and turned back.
“I’m all right,” she yelled. “Get my horse.”
He seized the bridle so that she could let go and concentrate on scrambling to her feet. She wasn’t all right, he could see that. She moved like someone who was hurt and determined not to show it. But he guessed that any show of sympathy would madden her.
She remounted, patting the horse to show there were no hard feelings.
“I’m surprised you could get up at all,” Randall said.
She tried to shrug, and had to give up the attempt. “It’s nothing.”
The others caught up with them, and Dave pushed ahead to ride at Claire’s side. All the way back his voice was raised in a dreary recital about something or other. Randall didn’t bother listening to the words. His attention was for Claire, who was drooping slightly in her saddle.
He longed to push Dave aside and tell her she could lean on him. But he knew better than to try.
Three
Getting into bed that night Randall moved very, very carefully. He enjoyed an active life, but the day’s exertions had used muscles he wasn’t familiar with, and he ached all over.
At last he gave up the struggle to find a comfortable position and hauled himself painfully out of bed. Somewhere in this place they must keep some liniment. Preferably lots of it. He should have asked before he came upstairs, but he wouldn’t give them the satisfaction.
Easing on his dressing gown he crept out into the corridor, wondering where was the best place to look. But as he made his way past Claire’s room he realized he’d reached the end of his search. The smell of liniment came unmistakably from behind her door.
Now he could hear painful little gasps, reminding him of how she’d fallen onto her back. She was trying to get to places she couldn’t reach, and it was hurting her.
He tapped softly. “Claire.”
The door opened a crack. Claire stood there, wrapped in a large towel.
“I’m looking for the liniment.” He gave her a friendly smile. “Some instinct made me look here.”
“I’ve just finished with it.”
“Are you sure? You must be bruised all over your back. Can’t I help-as one sufferer to another?” When she still hesitated he added, “I won’t tell if you won’t.”
That won him a faint smile. “Sure.” She backed away to let him in, holding defiantly onto the towel.
He didn’t look around the room too obviously, but he noticed that the picture of Gabe had been removed from her bedside. She was protecting herself.
She sat down with her back to him, and he gently loosened the towel, drawing in his breath at what he saw.
“You’ve got the biggest bruise I’ve ever seen,” he exclaimed.
“Bet some of yours are bigger,” she said bravely.
“Bet they aren’t. Lie down, let me do this properly.” He saw her reluctance and said, “To hell with modesty! You’re going to be fit for nothing in the morning.”
“I feel fit for nothing now,” she sighed, stretching out on the bed.
He eased the towel down the length of her back, waiting for her to rally her defenses and tell him to stop right there. But she seemed too worn out to speak and he began gently rubbing liniment into her skin.
It was lovely skin, he couldn’t help noticing, pale and smooth. After her brusque mannerisms it came as a slight shock to find her body so softly rounded and feminine.
He began to wonder if he’d been wise to do this. Even with the ugly discoloration of the bruise, she was beautiful. Her back was long and elegant, tapering to a tiny waist and hips that flared into round, womanly curves.
He moved his hands rhythmically up and down her spine, trying not to hurt her. Trying even harder not to be too aware of her. But that was impossible.
“This will make you feel better,” he murmured. “What would we do without liniment, eh?”
“Well, we wouldn’t smell like horses, that’s for sure,” she said with a yawn.
“Yes, it’s a pity about the smell.”
If she were a horse, she would be a racehorse, he decided: with a proud, high-stepping beauty and a flowing red mane. Her hair had come loose and splayed over her shoulders. He pushed it aside and began kneading the back of her neck. She gave a little grunt of contentment that went straight to his heart, making him smile.
“Is that nice?”
“Mmm,” she said.
She raised an arm to pull her hair right out of the way, then rested her head on her elbow. He guessed she was growing too hazy to realize how the movement made the towel slip, and drew one glorious breast into view.
He forced his eyes away from the tantalizing sight, wondering what had possessed him to take such a risk. But the boyish clothes she wore had disguised the details that were designed to tempt a man. Now he realized that her breasts were heavy in proportion to the rest of her. In fact each one was just about the right size to fit into the palm of his hand.
He tried to force his thoughts away, but they were more rebellious than his eyes. They insisted on wandering over what he could see of her body, and even creeping under the towel to discover hidden secrets. He knew he should be ashamed, fight down the heat that was surging through his body, taking over from good resolutions. He drew a long breath, trying to subdue himself, but the part that was reacting most vigorously wasn’t amenable to thoughts.
“It wasn’t such a bad day,” he said, talking for the sake of it. “Bit rough, but I was expecting that.”
“Mmm!” she said.
“I’ll manage better now. Practice makes perfect and all that.” He had an uncomfortable feeling that he was burbling, saying anything, trying to hear the words through the roaring in his ears.
“What’s the program for tomorrow?” he asked, smoothing his hands down to her waist and forcing himself to stop there. “Claire? Claire?”
Her breathing had deepened, telling him she was asleep. He froze, his hand still on her waist, shocked at himself. This had begun so innocently, but now his whole body was aroused. Claire rejected feminine wiles but without trying she was simply the sexiest woman he’d ever known.
