Desert Rogue (24 page)

Reentering the water, he waded toward her.

“See, lightning won't strike.”

“I almost feel as though it did,” Vicky confessed shyly. She glanced down at her nipples just below the surface of the water. “Like the last instant before a wonderful surprise when you know that as much as you want it, you may not truly deserve it,” she admitted, keeping her eyes trained on Jed's face and chest.

He couldn't help but smile at her innocence. To his amazement, though blessed with a spectacular body, Vicky was totally unfamiliar with its urgings.

“Well, I don't know if this qualifies as a wonderful surprise, but, if you like, I'll wash your hair and you won't have to worry about anyone seeing anything.”

“Anyone except you,” she said with a smile. Not that she would mind, she realized in surprise. Jed's glances were warm and loving, not lewd as Zobeir's and his guards' had been. Oddly, the American's intense scrutiny made her feel prized, not violated.

“Except me,” he agreed readily. “Unless you want me to go ashore and leave you alone—”

“No, you saw me naked at the oasis. What do I have to hide?”

Less than he did, Jed reflected, circling behind her and swallowing deeply at the sight of the luscious curves of her buttocks visible through the water. His fingers itched to grasp them and lift her toward him, and he was hard-pressed to ignore such an overwhelming urge. Still, the water was an inhibitor, Jed told himself, and he was man enough to maintain control.

“Just relax,” he advised Vicky, wishing he could heed his own words. With the easy practice of a man used to creating shaving lather, he worked the fat-based soap slowly.

Then he reached forward and took her head gently in his hands, allowing it to loll back in the water. Permitting his fingers to travel slowly across her temples, he began massaging the silky strands at their roots, pleased by her low murmur of contentment as he increased the tempo and rhythm of his movement. Enjoying her trust, Jed strove to be at once gentle yet impersonal, but it was nearly impossible to ignore the implications of his action. When the satiny tendrils claimed him as their own, wrapping themselves around his wrists, he shivered at the thought of being possessed so totally under other circumstances.

He took his time, lathering and then urging the suds from her curls, watching her posture soften as his fingers traced ever-enlarging circles on her scalp, soothing her as she opened herself to his repeated caresses.

A deep sigh of satisfaction escaped Vicky's lips and Jed grinned in self-derision. He was miserable, his body throbbing with need, and
she
was moaning with pleasure.

Then, too soon, he was through. Her hair floated soft and soap-free on the surface of the Nile, and he had no reason to continue, and every reason to stop.

“There you are, all done. I hope the service pleased you,” he said, unable to hide the raspy quality of his voice.

“It did indeed,” she answered a trifle breathlessly, turning to face the man whose hands had been so evocative. “But now, it's your turn, or perhaps I should say,
my
turn.”

“What?” He had never expected her to repay the favor, if that was what she meant. How could he withstand such temptation?

“You washed my hair, but since yours isn't as long, perhaps I will wash your chest, as well.” Vicky's heart-shaped mouth curved into a smile as Jed hesitated. “Aren't you the one who told me I had nothing to be ashamed of? You don't, either. I've seen it all.”

“No woman since my mother has bathed me,” confessed Jed, somewhat startled at that realization. Of all the females he'd known, none had ever demonstrated Victoria's giving nature.

“Then I think it's about time one did.” She giggled as she took the soap and began to rub it against his chest. Newly introduced to this game of physical flirtation, she decided she had waited too long to learn about it. Perhaps a lady didn't indulge in such behavior, but then how many ladies spent time in the desert with a wild, wonderful American?

As her soft palms rotated across his chest, teasing the small hairs and sending shivers up his spine, Jed struggled to remain motionless. Every muscle in his body craved release, and he found even breathing a chore, so tense was he from the battle not to reach out and gather her toward him. Instead, he held his arms out to the sides to avoid touching her as Victoria's alluring breasts floated so visibly before him.

“I never realized men's nipples were as sensitive as women's,” she reflected, circling and caressing those tender nubs of sensation. Unaware of the agony she was generating, Victoria reveled in the feel of Jed's flesh beneath her dancing fingers. Unlike Ali, whom she had tended when he was unconscious and hurt, Jed was very much alert and responsive to her smallest motion.

It was enough, he decided finally, beginning to step away from her. No, it was
too
much. Jed was no longer able to resist her artless seduction. The water and the slight evening breezes fluttering over the river could no longer tame the heat that had built in his loins. He was male and she was female and they were together. That was all he knew.

Almost before he was conscious of his decision to claim her, Victoria was in his arms, the soap forgotten as he bent his head to hers, kissing her with a ferocity that startled even him. It had been too long since he'd had a woman, his mind reasoned, but then he was beyond thought, rejoicing in her ardent response. Their lips were joined as though life depended on this union, as though they had never existed separately.

For days Jed had envisioned Victoria's reaction to his loving gestures and she didn't disappoint him. She was clearly as enthralled by him as he was by her. Standing with her, naked in the Nile at twilight, he sent his hands trailing down her spine and back up again, urging her to fit her body closer to his, relishing the feel of her sleekness against his coarser skin.

It was like the sandstorm that had sprung up out of nowhere, thought Victoria dizzily, parting her lips to welcome Jed's anxious, demanding assault. As his tongue sought hers and began to parry, its tip licking one minute and dueling the next, the young woman understood the drive that powered Jed's excitement and fed on it herself, answering his needs while satisfying her own.

She could barely breathe, her heart was pounding as though it might explode, and she was quivering, but there was a certainty that this was right. Jed would never harm her, not when he made her feel so unbelievably cherished.

Gradually, as the evening winds blew along his bare back, Jed reluctantly came to his senses, chilled by his irresponsibility and the magnitude of what he had precipitated. What had begun as a game exploded into flames as desire took over. But Victoria, however responsive to his attention, was not his to dally with.

As she leaned against him, his arms draped over her shoulders, hers around his waist, he steeled himself against what must be done. Jed drew a deep breath and moved out of her embrace, desperately regretting each step away from the paradise she offered.

“Vicky,” he murmured, his voice hoarse with unspent passion. “It's time to stop and get dressed.”

“Now? Why?”

“I think we have to consider all of this carefully,” he ventured. He was uncertain how to explain his reluctance to continue what undoubtedly could lead to a level of sensual release he had often imagined, but never foreseen as a reality. “It was wonderful to kiss you, but...”

“But I belong to Hayden,” she acknowledged, reading his mind. Unable to deny the truth of the matter, her conscience would not allow her to ignore that commitment no matter how special Jed had made her feel.

“Yes, you do, but it's not only that. Loving you is a privilege I don't deserve.”

“How can you say that? Of course you do.”

“No, what you feel is merely gratitude for my saving you from Zobeir and the brigands—”

“And the snake and the sandstorm,” Victoria added, trying to keep her tone light. She knew he was not rejecting her but offering her the choice to halt their impulsive foray into passion or to continue. Unfortunately, at this moment, that was not a decision she could make rationally. Her body was overwrought with sensations, trembling yet with the excitement of his touch, quivering with the pleasure of his kisses.

“Those, too,” Jed acknowledged with a half smile, his agate eyes smoky with emotion, “and I couldn't accept anything from you because you think you owe me or because you are too thrilled by the newness of passion to think clearly—”

“Thank you, Jed,” she said quietly, standing up on tiptoe to kiss him gently, her hand caressing his unshaven cheek. She knew instinctively it could not be easy for a man like him to deny himself, but, for her, he had. “It seems you are a gentleman, despite your wishes to the contrary.”

Then Victoria turned from him and waded to shore, each step a deliberate denial. Reaching the bank, she opened a saddlebag and rummaged about, finally pulling out her own clothing, the blouse and skirt in which Jed had first seen her.

“Since we are returning to civilization, this might be more appropriate to wear,” she called. “Besides, it's clean.”

“I suppose so,” Jed answered without enthusiasm. Did that choice of clothes mean she wanted Hayden? Was it that formal world she craved, then, rather than the one of sensual pleasure he had offered her? Suddenly he needed to escape the overwhelming temptation of her. They had seen no one in hours. Surely she would be safe alone. Safer than with him just now. “I'm going to swim upriver a ways. Do you mind?”

“I wouldn't deny you anything,” Vicky replied, a soft smile telegraphing her unspoken offer. She stood proudly on the grassy bank, unashamed and beautiful.

Instead of going to her, he turned southward to fight the current and expend the passionate energy he had denied himself. He had done what was right. He knew he was right. But still, Jed wished the Nile was cooler.

* * *

By the time Jed returned to the camp, twilight had turned to darkness and stars were scattered across the heavens. The sight of the
falucca
and the small fire drew him into the shore, that and the luscious smell of roasting lamb.

“Dinner is ready, Jed. Fresh meat, just as I promised,” Ali called when he saw the American emerge from the water. “You will have to do something about your lack of attire before you join us, however. Victoria, don't look around.”

How could she
not
look, the young woman wondered, her eyes surreptitiously feasting on the male standing in the shadows. As he retrieved his trousers from the saddlebag and drew them on, she memorized the corded muscles in his legs and the firmness of his buttocks. When Jed's worn cotton shirt obscured his strong back and broad shoulders, Victoria sighed for the loss.

“Come, sit here, Jed,” she invited, patting a place on the grass beside her. “You've taken care of the two of us for days. Tonight we'll return the favor. There's roasted lamb, fresh bread, even onions. And Ali managed to find a flute as part of the trade.”

Powerless to resist Vicky's entreaty, Jed settled himself beside her, astounded at Ali's success.

“Tarnation, Ali, what did you tell them? That the camels laid golden eggs rather than—”

“There is a lady with us, Jed,” scolded the Egyptian. “I told no lies.”

“No, you merely robbed those poor beggars blind. Instead of Zobeir and the brigands chasing us, we'll have the
Bisharin.
”

“I'm sure Ali simply used his own experience in haggling to wear the sellers down,” interjected Victoria. “Tell us about it, Ali. I'll listen even if Jed doesn't.”

“Fatima's cousin led me to a trader who needed extra beasts immediately for an unexpectedly rich caravan. But when he learned the camels came from Jed Kincaid, the American who had redeemed Sheik Abdul Nabar's amulet, any price I asked would not have been too much. It was Jed's reputation, not my skill, that determined our good fortune,” said Ali. “However, out of respect for his name, I was fair.”

“I can see that.” Jed chuckled. Taking note of the numerous supplies that lay by the fire, he spotted not only foodstuffs, but native liquor and a few bolts of fabric. “We're only two days from Cairo. I don't think we'll eat all of this—or wear that purple silk.”

“No, that is a gift for Fatima to assuage her pain during my absence,” explained the Cairene with a sudden grin.

“Won't your very presence do that?” asked Jed, his gaze fixed on Vicky. As she handed him a plate, her skirt fell open, exposing a slender length of shapely leg, and he swallowed deeply at the hot flash of desire that overtook him. What would it be like to go home every night to the same woman? Never having made a habit of commitment, the very idea of such stability seemed foreign though not necessarily repulsive to Jed, especially if the woman were as appealing as Vicky Shaw.

“One prays for such graces,” Ali agreed. “But eat, and we will celebrate with music and
zabeeb.
”

“This tasty meal is celebration enough. What more could a man desire?” Jed drawled, his eyes devouring Victoria as thoroughly as his mouth did justice to the lamb. The air had turned cool, so the smell of the fire, the aroma of the lamb and the savory taste of the simple fare made him nearly content. Yet, there sat Vicky, just beyond his reach.

“The meat is quite flavorful. It's the conclusion to a wonderful evening,” Victoria said softly. Catching Jed licking his lips suggestively as he studied her in a most possessive manner, she blushed even as she continued. “All in all, I am quite satisfied with the day's events, though, at the moment, I couldn't indulge myself in anything more.”

“Men generally have more demanding appetites than do women,” said the man who had kissed her so artfully that afternoon. “Right, Ali?”

“That is true. Do you want more lamb?”