“Oh, Steve, I really did miss you,” she said softly.
Steve’s eyes, so dark blue and intent, regarded her with careful scrutiny. “You didn’t seem to miss me that much, green-eyes, or you wouldn’t have been dancing when I arrived.”
Her laughter was soft and teasing. “A lady must take her pleasures where she finds them, you know.”
Steve paused, pulling her to him in the shadowed alcove beneath the bower of moonflowers. “So must a man, my sweet.”
“Steve!” she gasped out, shocked by the swift pressure of his hands on her as he pushed her back against the vine-covered wall. “What are you doing?”
“It’s been two weeks. Don’t turn shy on me now, Ginny. I seem to recall a more adventurous spirit.”
Grasping her skirts, he pulled them up, leaning forward with a gleam in his eyes that she recognized. His mouth crooked in a smile and his face was half-shadowed by the filtered light that barely penetrated this shaded bower.
It was risky, dangerous—exciting. What if someone came and caught them? But it only added a certain titillation to the moment, the threat of discovery nearly as exhilarating as the sensation of his hands on her, sliding up legs that were bare under her skirts, finding her, caressing her with a teasing, shocking friction that sent shivers down her spine. She clung to him, drowning in familiar desires.
With her back pressed against the wall, cushioned by the thick mat of vines, the sweet, heady scent of crushed flowers beneath her, Ginny hungrily responded to his kisses and caresses. Such sweet, dangerous desire…the need so compelling and urgent, the response so instant to his touch that she felt herself swept away.
All thinking halted. His hands moved over her, his lips following, until finally, with her arms clasping him closely as he lifted her by the waist, he slid inside her, a searing thrust that made her breath catch in her throat, sent her senses spinning out of control. As he drove into her, the leafy bower whirled in a kaleidoscope of green and white, faster and faster, until she arched against him in exquisite release, whispering her love, the words rising to the very top of the pergola.
Finally Steve went still, his body taut as he pushed her harder against the wall, straining into her. His breath was hot and fast against her cheek, his head bent to nuzzle her ear.
“Christ, Ginny,” he muttered, “you make me crazy. I’ll never get enough of you.”
“Good.” She squirmed slightly, arms around his neck. “I want you to always want more of me, to never be completely satisfied unless you’re with me.”
“Witch woman…you’ve bewitched me.”
A throaty laugh purred as she murmured, “No, voodoo. I picked up a few tricks in New Orleans.”
“I don’t doubt it.” He stared down at her with a wry smile. Deep grooves bracketed his mouth, and his eyes were dark with lucent shadows, reflections of diffused light a pale gleam. He touched her hair gently, his hand a tender caress as he dragged his fingers through the softly curling mass that waved around her face. “It wouldn’t surprise me at all to learn that you’d put a spell on me, enchantress mine.”
Ginny’s breath caught, and she thought then that they had never been so close before, never felt the same emotion at the same time as they were now, this meeting of more than just the flesh, but of the hearts….
Oh God, let it last forever!
17
“Where did you go, Steve? Why did it take you so long to get back to Mexico?” Ginny slanted a glance at him, her body satiated and lethargic, replete.
They lay wrapped in a damp cocoon of tangled sheets and lamplight, still flushed from lovemaking. Her hand lay upon his chest, fingers spread and pale against skin dark as any Comanche warrior.
Arms crossed behind his head, Steve shifted lazily, bringing one leg up and over to lie across her thighs. “Do you ever run out of questions, green-eyes?”
His thick murmur was teasing, but there was a serious tinge to his comment.
“Yes. When I’m asleep.” Her hand curled into a small fist, knuckles grazing the shadowed angle of his jaw in a light, mock blow. “Answer me. Did you talk to Sam Murdock?”
“A lot longer than necessary. He sends his regards.”
“I’m sure he does.” She frowned slightly. “I know he’s your partner and very astute. He also happens to be a friend of my father’s. Does this have anything to do with the new silver mine the senator bought in New Mexico?”
“You talk too much.”
Moving swiftly, he caught her by surprise, pushing her into the mattress and sliding his body over hers to look down at her with a familiar hot gleam in his dark-blue eyes.
“Steve…stop it.”
He bent his head, black hair tickling her bare breasts as he began to kiss her, washing his tongue over quivering flesh in a leisurely torment until she closed her eyes, forgetting Sam Murdock and William Brandon, forgetting everything but the sweet, heady sensations he was provoking with his mouth and hands….
It wasn’t until later the next day, when they rode out well into the morning on the next leg of their journey south to Don Francisco’s, that Ginny remembered their conversation of the night before. She turned to look at him, where he rode his big black gelding next to Paco, both of them deep in a low-toned conversation that she was certain had to do with Steve’s recent trip.
“Well?” she said when he nudged his mount alongside her a little bit later. “Are you going to answer my question?”
“Which one, love? You fire so many at me I feel as if I’ve been ambushed by an Apache war party.”
Though he said it in a teasing tone, his eyes narrowed slightly at her, glinting a dark blue beneath
