Deborah Camp (27 page)

“I … lordy, you took my breath away for a second,” she said, and he could tell that she was blushing although he couldn’t see it in the gloom of the cabin. “What’re you
doing up? You were sound asleep when I slipped out for my bath.”

He glanced down at the bulge between his legs. “What am I doing up?” He grinned in spite of himself. “Just lucky, I guess.”

“What?” It was more of a laugh than a word.

Rook could think of nothing else to say, so he continued to look at the way the nightgown clung to her belly and folded over the pale triangle between her legs.

She laughed again, all nerves and fluttery breath, then moved like a wisp of smoke toward the bedroom. Rook slid off the chair and positioned himself in front of the bedroom door. She turned curious eyes up to his and her mouth opened like a delicate rosebud.

“I’m going to bed. I’m cold.” When he made no move to let her pass, she placed a hand on his upper arm and gave a little push. “It’s after midnight. That cock will be crowing before you know it.”

“The cock’s already crowing,” Rook said, grinning again at his play on words. He was encouraged by the softness of her reaction to him, her nervous laugh, her blushing. At least she wasn’t shouting, threatening, and spitting fire. She wasn’t afraid of him, just mildly irritated, and he took that as a good sign. “I saw you out there, Cassandra Potter.”

Her gaze swept up, lifting the curtain of her golden lashes. “You saw me … in the tub?”

“Out of the tub.”

She turned away from him sharply and held onto the back of a chair for balance. “You shouldn’t have … told me. Why are you sneaking around anyways?”

“I wasn’t. I didn’t know you were out there until it was too late to do anything about it … except to look, of course.” He put his hand on her shoulder. She wasn’t cold. She was warm. “You’re beautiful. And I want you.”

“You’ve been cooped up here so long you’d think a donkey wearing a bonnet was beautiful. As for wanting …” She moved her shoulder, then twisted away from his touch. “We don’t always get what we want.”

“I love the way you move,” he said, barely acknowledging
that she had said anything. “I noticed that right off about you. You’ve got grace. You move as if your feet aren’t touching the ground.”

“Lately all you do is test me … tempt me … challenge me. Why is that?” She lifted the hair away from her neck and let it fall in a heavy curtain across her shoulders.

“Pale gold,” Rook said, stepping closer to enjoy the clean smell of soap coming from her. “Your hair is like corn silk. When I concentrate real hard I can feel it slipping through my fingers.”

“Remember when I asked you what was going on inside me and you said I already knew?”

“I only know that you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever known.”

“You were right.” She turned to face him, all spilling gold hair and shining eyes. “I knew what was happening. I’ve got lust in my heart.”

Hope sprang eternal. “Yes, that’s right.”

“No, it’s wrong.” The light went out of her eyes. Total eclipse. “I want more than that. I deserve the same as any other woman. I won’t settle for less.”

His chest tightened as if it were caught in a vise. “There’s nothing wrong with wanting someone.”

“Someone,” she repeated with a sad smile. “You just want someone.”

“No.” His fingertips drifted down the side of her face. “Not just someone. You.”

“You’re saying that because you want your itch scratched.” She tipped her head to one side, away from his hand. “Don’t you think I know that? I’m not so ignorant I don’t know about men and their urges.”

“You don’t know about this man and this urge.” He flattened his palm against her cheek and tipped her chin up with his thumb. “And you’re not ignorant.”

“No?”

“No.”

Her chin trembled slightly. “Are you going to kiss me?”

He smiled and the vise opened to let his heart swell. “Yes. What’s more, you’re going to kiss me back.”

The moment was suspended, crystallized by its importance,
and then shattered into a thousand diamond sparkles as Rook’s mouth melted over Cassie’s. In a purely automatic response, her fingers slipped through his springy hair and added pressure, pulling his head down closer. He reacted, opening his mouth more and thrusting his tongue between her petallike lips. She made a strangled sound of surprise, then gathered great handfuls of his hair, her fingers clutching almost spasmodically.

He cradled the back of her head in his hands and explored her mouth thoroughly. She didn’t push him away, but she didn’t encourage him either. Her own tongue curled back away from his, but Rook decided her reaction was from lack of practice rather than a sign of rejection. He sensed her uneasiness, but he drove past it instead of giving in to it.

“Cassie, Cass … Cass …”He whispered her name between sipping kisses as his hands moved along the dipping curve at the small of her back and then over the rise of her hips. Her fingers explored his neck and then spanned his shoulders. “Touch me. That’s right. Get to know every inch of me.” He pressed her closer and rubbed against her. She gasped and squirmed away, her eyes wide with recognition and revulsion.

“Don’t!” Her eyes, were enormous. “Don’t push that against me!”

“Why not? You’re responsible for it being like it is.” He found her directness titillating. “You’ve felt a man’s arousal, or have you already forgotten how it feels to have me inside you?”

“I haven’t forgotten, but I don’t like for you to shove it up against me!” She pushed roughly at his shoulders and slipped back into her virginal role. “I’m not one of your mama’s girls. I’m a lady, and I expect to be treated like one!”

“A lady. You want to be treated like a lady.”

“That’s right.” She lifted her chin so as to be able to stare along the bridge of her freckled nose at him.

“Fine. That’s fun too.” He gripped her shoulders and lowered his lips to the slope of her neck, right at the base where it curved gently and where me skin was soft and
white. She trembled, and he continued his velvet-glove treatment, checking the overwhelming urge to rush her and making himself proceed slowly and gently.

His mouth skimmed across the ridge of her clavicle, up her throat, and along her proudly tilted chin to her lax lips, which warmed to his. He laced his fingers through hers and drew her hands behind her to the ledge of her hips. He bowed her backward, exposing the length of her neck and the thrust of her breasts to his leisurely journey. The more slowly he went, the more she trembled. The more softly he kissed her, the more she moaned low in her throat like a tortured creature. Her eyes were tightly shut, her fingers tightly gripping his. She was a taut cord of desire, a woman primed for passion.

“Rook … ummm, Rook.” She shook her head back and forth and her hair spilled across her face and clung to the moist corners of her mouth and eyes. “What’ll I do when you’re gone?” Her lashes lifted to reveal the liquid blue of her eyes. “How will I get through the night? I’ll have to, but it’ll be worse after this. Much worse now that you’ve left your mark on me.”

A bucket of cold water could not have done the trick better. His temperature cooled. His head cleared. He unlaced his fingers from hers and leaned back to examine her teary eyes. Behind the tears he swore he could see a devious glint. No, he acknowledged grudgingly, she wasn’t ignorant.

“What do you want, Cassie? You want me to promise that I’ll stay or promise that I’ll take you with me? Which lie must I tell before you’ll let me bed you again?”

She rested her hands ever so lightly against his chest and let them drift down to his waist. When her gaze lifted to his again, his heart constricted painfully. The scales had tipped in her favor. No longer was he in control. Somehow, she’d stripped him of his power and now held him captive.

“Bedding me meant so little to you compared to what it meant to me. My first man.” Her soulful blue eyes held his steady for a few moments before releasing them.
“You’ve soiled me, and I’ll be left out here with nothing to offer another man but damaged merchandise.”

“Quit talking like you’re a sack of potatoes.” He pushed her hands away from him and sat dejectedly on the edge of the cot. “Go on to bed.”

“Is that what you want?”

“No!” He glared up into her angelic face and became aware of a strong urge to shatter her halo. “You know what I want, but I’m not going to bed a woman who looks on loving as if it’s a curse.”

“I thought we were talking about lusting not loving.”

He shook his head; he hated this particular debate, which was so purely feminine. “Someday you’ll be woman enough to understand that there’s no difference between the two when it’s something that’s meant to be.”

Her eyes grew cold and flat like blue steel. “I guess we’re not meant to be,” she said then, moving with that specterlike grace toward the bedroom.

“Guess not.” He swung his legs up onto the cot and flung an arm across his eyes. When the door had closed her off from him, he released his breath. Surprisingly, he felt relieved that she’d gone sulking to the safety of her bed. Yes, relieved, because for a moment he had felt something that had scared the hell out of him. He’d felt himself falling in love.

When, the next morning, Cassie saw Boone riding toward the cabin, sitting tall in the saddle, she was stunned by the feeling of elation that shot through her. She hadn’t realized until then how grateful she would be to anyone or anything that would come between her and Rook. Last night’s episode had taken their uneasy alliance a step further, and she and Rook both knew it. They could no longer pretend indifference or even a casual friendship. Confessions had been made that could not be easily forgotten or dismissed as momentary madness. Their kisses and murmurings had been premeditated and carefully orchestrated. Hadn’t they both admitted to listening to each other in the still of the night, of weaving dreams of each other? Their mutual fascination had been exposed and could no longer be hidden under a mantle of casual indifference.

Cassie ducked inside the cabin where Rook was helping himself to another cup of coffee. She waved frantically toward the bedroom while she removed her apron with her other hand.

“Get outta sight. Boone’s coming!” She tucked several stray strands of hair back into her topknot and paid no heed to Rook’s scowl or his sarcastic, “Well, whoopty doo!”

Cassie ran out to the road to meet Boone, waving a gay welcome and followed by the faithful Slim. She stopped to push the hound toward the porch, but he bunched himself up, bending in the middle and digging all four paws into the ground. He didn’t give an inch as he turned baleful
eyes back at Cassie and looked at her as if she’d just clubbed him.

“Go on, Slim,” Cassie begged, pushing at his rump again. “Don’t pick now to be ornery. Not when I’ve got a visitor to impress! Get up there on the porch, dagnabit!” When Slim held his ground, Cassie gave up and whirled to face Boone. She stood up straight, hoping she looked presentable.

“Good day, Cassie,” Boone said as he drew near. “Forgive me for calling without warning,” he added, reining his horse to a prancing halt. Slim loped forward, and the steed snorted a warning that impressed the hound enough to make him back off and head for the safety of the porch.

“I’ve brought a picnic lunch which I was hoping you’d share with me,” Boone said, holding up a wicker basket. “I know you’re busy out here, but—”

“Not so busy I’d turn away friends,” she said, interrupting him, and took the basket from him. She stood back while he swung down from the saddle. “you’re not working today?”

“It’s Saturday. The bank’s closed.”

Cassie laughed at herself. “So it is. I lose track of time out here. One day is the same as the next.”

“I see your friend is still here,” he said, glancing at the panting dog sprawled on the porch.

“That’s Slim. We’ve adopted each other.” Cassie looked over her shoulder at the drooling dog and smiled when Slim slapped his tail against the bleached planks of the porch. “He’s a good guard dog and he don’t eat much.”

“How’s your garden growing?” Boone asked.

“Fine.”

“And your chicks?”

“They’ll be laying soon.” She turned and they both started toward the cabin where she and Boone could sit and talk, but she suddenly stopped dead in her tracks as she remembered she wasn’t alone. She’d have to get Boone away from the cabin, she told herself.

“Are you hungry?”

“Uh … yes.” She tossed him a sunny smile and
began walking backward away from the cabin. “It’s such a pretty day, let’s spend it outside. There’s a nice spot right over this rise where we could sit in the sunshine while we eat.”

“Lead the way,” Boone said, sweeping off his hat to let the sun blaze across his red hair.

He extended his elbow and Cassie paused only a moment before tucking her hand in the crook it formed. They strolled side by side across the soft blanket of grass to the place Cassie had spoken of, where flat-topped boulders formed a circle around a small pond.

“My, this is pleasant,” Boone said, stopping at the edge of the pond to check his reflection in the water. “This is still part of your property?”

“Yes. I used to come here years ago, when we first moved here, and pretend that these boulders were giants’ footstools. That longest one was their chair.”

“You believed in giants back then?”

“Oh, yes,” she said, nodding earnestly. “And I believed in the little people and fairies and witches.” She ached for those old beliefs. It was easier to believe than to doubt everything. “Those days are long gone,” she said, more to herself than to Boone. “I guess you know you’re growed up when you stop believing in things like giants and fairies.”

“Did you enjoy our trip into town?”

Cassie was smiling wistfully as memories of her childhood came flooding back. The place where giants once dwelt made her yearn for the simple days with a man she could trust and love openly, without shame or regret. Her gaze came to rest on Boone and she was glad he’d ridden to her rescue. She needed a diversion from her complicated feelings for Rook. She realized that Boone was looking at her with an air of expectation and suddenly remembered he’d asked something of her.