My Desperado (18 page)

"Yeah." Travis stood knee-deep in the water, she realized, holding her to his chest as if she were a frightened child.

"Black bear?" she questioned, glancing about feverishly but finding no evidence of the huge threatening animal. "Is that good?"

He chuckled in her ear. “They're usually harmless, unless they have younguns." He didn't mention that this one did and that he'd seen a pair of them ambling downstream a bit. Apparently, Travis's approach had scared the mother off, for she'd left the trout she'd been coveting to gallop away toward her cubs.

Katherine drew a deep breath, feeling suddenly limp with relief. "I've made a fool of myself again." Her eyes dropped to his chest, where his damp shirt clung to the hard slopes beneath his shoulders. "Haven't I?"

She felt like heaven in his arms. All wet and soft and slippery, full of curves and life and husky apologies. "I don't think anyone could make a fool of you," he said softly.

Katherine raised her eyes slowly, wondering at the sincerity in his voice, thinking he must surely be mocking her. But his face was absolutely sober, his eyes intense, his nostrils slightly flared.

“Teach me to be tough," she murmured, so terribly impressed by his strength and courage that it took her breath away.

"Lady..." He shook his head slowly, unable to stop the hot sensations that coursed through his being with lightning speed. "I kind of like you soft."

They were so close she could see each individual line on his face, the slight creases that radiated from his eyes, the pleasant grooves that deepened when he spoke. He was a masterpiece, a hardened, sculptured work of art. "Teach me," she breathed.

Then he kissed her because he couldn't help himself and didn't want to. She was soft, and lovely, and kissing him in return. Her breasts were pressed against his chest, and her kisses were hot and torturous.

"Lady!" He pulled his mouth abruptly away, determined not to take advantage of her loneliness, of her fear, of her vulnerability. "We shouldn't do this."

Katherine didn't answer, but caught his gaze with her own. "Why?"

He remained silent for a moment, grappling for strength. But it had run dry. "Can't you think of a reason?" he rasped.

She shook her head numbly and Travis came undone. He bent, sweeping her into his arms. Water rushed past and through his saturated boots as he carried her to shore. He failed, however, to notice anything but his precious burden.

Katherine's eyes were closed, and her breasts were pressed tightly against his chest.

With trembling arms, he deposited her on his bedroll, and though he meant to straighten, the sight of her naked and willing kept him where he was. He drew back, breathing hard. "Lady, you don't want this."

"All my life people have been telling me what I should want," she whispered. "Would it be such a sin if I wanted you?"

He stared at her, his nostrils flared. "It would be a mistake."

"Why?"

"Because I ain't worth it."

She lifted one hand, grasping his shirt in her fist. "I think you are," she whispered. "And I do want it. Would you kiss me again?"

"Lady, I—"

"I rather liked it."

"Lady!" he warned, but her lips were parted and waiting and he lacked the will to restrain himself.

He kissed her hard, and she moaned, pressing up against him. There was no longer any hope for self-control. She'd made the choice, and despite the fact that she would hate him later, he could no longer resist. His arms wound about her bare back, pulling her closer.

There was a sweet, delicate hollow below her collarbone, and he lingered there, nuzzling, kissing then moved downward.

She was arched beneath him, breathless and waiting. Her breasts were high and proud, dark-nippled and taut. His kisses skimmed between them as his hands cupped the outsides of the soft mounds.

"Beautiful," he whispered to them then moved on, worshipping her with his hands and mouth.

Every fiber of her was firm, yet soft. Her legs were long, slightly bent, and quivering. He kissed her thigh, her knee, the flat plain of her shin, and then up he moved again, finally cupping her buttocks to shimmy over top.

"God, you're beautiful," he breathed.

She tried to say the same, but found she had no words. Though her lips were parted, she could not speak. And so she pressed more firmly against him, her eyes on his face, her arms clutched beneath his shirt.

Is this love, then, or simple lust, the like of which my father warned against? Katherine wondered dizzily. But his lips were on hers again, teasing, tantalizing.

He was between her legs now, and she pressed up against him, trying to ease the ache.

Travis moaned against her lips, giving her courage to slide her hand lower onto the steep rise of his powerful buttocks, pulling him against her with surprising strength.

"Travis..." She found her voice at the edge of her painful desire. "I need..."

He kissed her cheek, her ear. "Yes, lady? What do you need?"

She wasn't certain. But she hoped to get it soon, for her entire being ached with desire. "Don't you know?" she asked, her voice hoarse and desperate.

He chuckled in her ear, thrilled by her half-admitted innocence, her fiery response.

"There ain't much more I can do for you with my pants on, lady," he said, and pulled away.

His boots were wet and stubborn, but he jerked them from his feet. On his knees now, his hands actually trembled on the metal buttons of his jeans.

Finally he, too, was naked, and pressed her back, able to wait no longer, needing to feel her softness beneath him. Her breasts crushed against his chest. Her legs slipped easily against his, and the hard, buoyant length of his desire was caught between them, throbbing with impatience.

"Lady..." The feelings were so intense now that he could barely speak, and yet... He could not hurt her. Could not bear to shame her.

"Shhh." She touched a gentle finger to his lips. "You've opened a new world for me. Don't stop now."

Travis stared into Katherine's lovely face, feeling breathless.

The tip of his manhood moved against the bottom of her midnight curls, teasing her. "I want you," she whispered, and opened easily for him to enter. Moist heat enveloped him. Taut muscles surrounded him.

Katherine pressed upward, trying to pull him in, rocking against the granite-hard shield of his body.

He groaned in tortured pleasure. "Lady, please. I don't want to hurt you."

"Hurt me?" She all but laughed. "Hurt me? Ryland... I already ache. And I expect you to fix it." She bit her lip and urged him toward her again.

"You're a..." he began, but she rocked against him again, so that he ground his teeth and waited for the delicious agony to stop. "A virgin."

She squeezed her eyes shut. "That's the problem?"

He moaned. "Yes."

"I'm not," she rasped. "I'm not a virgin," she vowed, pressing toward ecstasy again. "Remember? Patterson?"

"Lady," he gritted, but the battle was lost, and he pushed inward with one swift stroke. "You lie."

She gasped at the full length of him. Perhaps there was some pain, but it was lost in the pleasure. They moved together now, hips rising and falling.

He found her lips with his own. The tempo increased. Small beads of sweat lubricated and joined.

Travis felt her fingernails scrape against his back, felt the sharp intake of her breath, and knew that she was near. He pushed in again and again.

She was panting now and rocking hard against him until finally, with one sharp breath, she went limp and soft in his arms. Her climax forced his. He shuddered against her, drained and sated.

It took several minutes before Katherine could speak, for he still lay atop her, though he was propped on his elbows.

"Well," she whispered, feeling so weak and content that the word was little more than a rush of breath from her throat. "Are we done?"

He eased gently off her. "Did you expect more?"

"No," she murmured, feeling her face grow warm with embarrassment for her own brazenness. Never in all her life, had she felt such undeniable ecstasy. "I think that was quite sufficient," she sighed.

"Sufficient." His chest rose and fell like a bellows, and he was certain that an entire army could not force him to stand upright. "Sufficient? You have the damnedest way of putting words together, lady." He turned his head slightly to gaze at her. "Who are you anyway?"

"Schoolteacher." She said the words without thinking, for in all truth, she was beyond clearheaded thought, even if she had wanted to hide the truth from him at that moment. "I was a schoolteacher."

"Teacher?" Travis said slowly. "You were a schoolmarm?"

She nodded weakly, wondering where she'd left her clothes.

"A schoolmarm?" He sat up weakly. "And you never told me?"

Katherine licked her lips and reached for his shirt, which she quickly draped over her nakedness. "Well, that was before... You know..." She shrugged, noticing the glorious curves of his bare chest again. "Before I became a—"

"Goddamn it!" he interrupted, pushing angrily to his feet. "Goddamn it, woman! Don't you say it," he warned, shaking a finger at her. "You hear me? I don't ever want to hear you say it again."

Katherine blinked at him. Had he lost his mind, or did men always become unusually irrational afterward. "Hear what again?"

"That you're a dove. I never want to hear that you're a dove! Jesus!" He turned away suddenly, hands on his hips. "I knew," he raved at the trees. "I knew better. I knew. But... a schoolmarm! Jesus!"

"What difference does my vocation make?" she asked, rising slowly to rest her weight on one palm while still holding his shirt up to her neck.

"What difference?" He shook his head as if stunned by her nai'vete. "You said you was a saloon girl. A man don't have to worry about ruining no—" He turned suddenly, hand flailing.

She remained absolutely silent, staring at him.

"Jesus, woman!" he rasped, entirely forgetting his train of thought as his gaze fell to the bottom hem of his shirt, where her dark curls were exposed above her moist core. "Cover yourself before I..." He shook his head, backing away a step. "Before I do something... quite sufficient again," he growled, and stormed off into the woods.

Chapter 18

It was nearly dark when Travis returned to their campsite. Katherine sat on a log, her slim hands clasped together, her lengthy legs encased in durable denims, and the remainder of her body dressed in equally boyish garments. She stood when he approached.

For a moment they stared at each other like errant children, neither finding the nerve to speak, then, "I shot us a couple geese." He lifted the pair by the legs but refused to look at her.

"You bought a gun?" she asked, knowing the question was silly and that he wouldn't answer. He didn't, but dropped the fowl and turned.

“Travis?"

"Yeah?" His tone sounded grumpy.

"Thanks for the clothes."

"Yeah," he said with a notable lack of courtesy. "Sure."

She took a step forward, brushing back an imaginary strand of wayward hair. "I think they fit quite well, don't you?"

She was intentionally trying to torment him. He knew it. She was a demon, sent from the bowels of hell to make him pay for all his sins. No one but a demon could look like she looked, could attract him like she attracted him. Only a demon would be a schoolmarm and proclaim herself to be a soiled dove!

“The boots..." she said, twisting slightly in an attempt to see his face."The boots are a little large. But the rest—"

"Listen, lady!" he spouted suddenly, feeling his nerves at their breaking point, and spun abruptly toward her. "This ain't no goddamn—"

His jaw dropped, his hands flexed.

"What'd you do to them clothes?"

"Nothing." Her face flushed a darker shade of red. "I just..." She shrugged self-consciously. "Nothing."

Nothing! He stared at her. They were simple garments that he had purchased. Serviceable cotton shirt, secondhand knee-high boots, riveted denims. But old Levi Straus had never intended his jeans to look like this.

Every curve seemed visible and molded. Her waist was strapped to nothingness by the leather belt, her breasts caressed by the soft, deep-blue cotton of the humble shirt.

She squirmed slightly under his stunned perusal, shifting a strand of dark hair beneath the felt hat and licking her lips. "No one will realize I'm a woman now." She shuffled her booted feet.

"No." Travis thought he said the singular word with amazing clarity. "No." He shook his head, knowing that anyone who failed to see she was a woman, failed to be a man. "No. It'll sure enough be our secret," he said with a glare.

She bit her lip, looking nervous. "I have a confession to make."

His glare deepened, but he said nothing.

"I lied to you." Katherine pulled her shoulders back slightly, looking him straight in the eye. "I never really worked in the saloon. My aunt owned it. Left it to me. Daisy was with Patterson when he died. So you're the only man I've ever...been with."

Silence fell dark and heavy between them.

"Are you angry with me?" she asked softly.

He shook his head then drew a deep breath. "Lady, get ready to ride."

"What are we doing here?" Katherine whispered the question in Ryland's left ear. Now that the gown and slippers were replaced by more practical clothing, riding behind Travis was far more comfortable. He, however, felt stiff as a board before her.

"You're staying here." He held out one hand, nodding toward the ground.

"What?" Below them was a homestead, barely visible in the moonlit dimness.

"Get off," he ordered gruffly.

"Why?" She held the back of his saddle and scowled. All right, it was true, she shouldn't have lied to him, and she certainly should have stopped him before things had gotten out of hand. But he didn't have to detest her so for what they had done. He didn't have to refuse to speak to her.

"Just get down," he gritted grumpily.

Katherine's first reaction was to do just that, take his orders, obey his commands. But she stopped her movement in mid-shift. "Why?"