Only You (16 page)

“That’s not enough,” she said urgently.

“What if I say that’s all there is?”

“No! There has to be more!”

Reno touched her again, drawing his nails with exquisite care over the swollen bud. She gasped and liquid fire overflowed.

Teeth clenched against the need shaking him, Reno took a deep breath, seeking the self-control that was sliding away. The primal scent of Eve’s passion swept through him. It was like breathing fire.

“Reno,” she whispered. “I—”

Her voice broke as she twisted.

“This?” he asked.

Flesh that was both smooth and hard pressed sensually against her, parting her even as she melted over him.

“Yes,” she said brokenly. “
Yes.
”

With a smooth, powerful motion, Reno drove into Eve, expecting a sleek, seamless ease to the coupling, for there was no doubt of her arousal.

What he found was a barrier that was breached almost the instant it was discovered. Almost, but not quite. The difference was a tearing of flesh and a moisture that owed nothing to passion.

Eve’s eyes flew open as pain rather than pleasure stabbed through her whole body.

“You’re hurting me!” she said hoarsely.

The motions of Eve’s body as she tried to dislodge Reno stripped away his control. He tried to hold her still, but it was too late, he was far too aroused to deny himself the tight satin paradise he had entered. Release swept through him, burning him with pulses of pure fire.

The wild shuddering of Reno’s body moved him within Eve, but there was no pain for her this time. Instead, tongues of fire licked up from the place where their bodies were joined.

The sharp ripples of passion surprised Eve, as did Reno’s hoarse groans and the rhythmic pulses of his flesh deep within her. She closed her eyes, let out a broken breath, and waited for him to release her.

Yet Reno made no move to do so, even when his breathing slowed. The rise and fall of his chest was enough to move him within Eve. Each small motion sent more currents of unwelcome fire through her body. She no longer enjoyed the sensation, for she knew now where it led—to a feeling of pain and edgy despair.

She had been one of those foolish women Donna talked about, the kind who spread their legs in the name of love. But Reno didn’t want a saloon girl’s love. He wanted only her body.

And he had taken it.

“Get off me,” Eve said finally.

The flatness of her voice angered Reno. She had been so hot, so willing, and now she couldn’t wait to be rid of him. She couldn’t have told him more clearly how little she had enjoyed coupling with him.

Yet he had enjoyed it so much he had lost control too quickly. That had never happened to him before. The knowledge that he had wanted her much more than she wanted him made him furious.

Then Reno remembered the fragile barrier, the tearing an instant before he could take Eve completely. He remembered, but he could not believe it. He could not believe a saloon girl was a virgin.

It must have been a long time since her last man.

That would explain the sleek constriction of her body, a sensual pressure that still caressed him every time either one of them breathed.

Reno realized anew how slender Eve was, how delicately made. He wasn’t either slender or small. He was an unusually large, potent man. He hadn’t meant to hurt her, but he must have. The knowledge simultaneously shamed and angered him, for it underlined the difference in their level of mutual desire.

“Don’t tell me you didn’t want it,” Reno said harshly. “Hell, you asked for it as plain as day.”

Color stained Eve’s cheeks as she remembered her own wanton behavior. He was quite right. She had asked for it.

“I’m not asking for it now,” Eve said tightly.

With a hissed word, Reno shifted to roll aside.

Eve’s breath wedged and a shudder went through her body as he caressed her violently sensitive flesh in the act of leaving her.

Blood glistened in the sun, scarlet testimony to a truth Reno could barely believe. She had felt like wild, sun-warmed honey. He had been so eager for her that he hadn’t even undressed her or himself. He had taken her wearing his boots and pants as though she were no more than a whore bought for a few minutes of ease.

And she had let him. She had begged him.

Reno looked at Eve as though he had never seen her before. And he hadn’t. Not the way he was seeing her now. He hadn’t allowed himself to look past the scarlet dress to the innocent girl beneath; because he had wanted that girl too much to turn aside, no matter what the truth of her innocence was.

“
Virgin.
”

“That’s right, gunfighter,” Eve shot back. “I’m a virgin.”

Suddenly her mouth drew down in an unhappy curve.

“Well, I was a virgin,” she said. “Now I’m just one more ruined girl who should have known better.”

The word rang in Reno’s mind. Ruined.

Like Savannah Marie had been ruined. Like Willow had been ruined.

A decent man marries an innocent girl if he ruins her.

Suddenly Reno felt cornered. Like any cornered animal, he fought to be free. His fingers wrapped around Eve’s shoulders.

“If you think you just traded your maidenhead for a husband,” he said, “you’re dead wrong. I won you in a card game. I took what was mine. That’s all the payment that’s required.”

“Thank God,” Eve said between her teeth.

For the second time, Eve had shocked Reno. He had expected an argument, a torrent of words telling
him how it was his duty as a decent man to marry the girl his lust had ruined. It was an old trick, the oldest and most potent in the arsenal of the war waged between marriage-minded girls and freedom-minded men.

Yet Eve wasn’t using it.

“Thank God?” Reno repeated numbly.

“Damn straight,” Eve shot back. “Thank God I’ve paid off the bet fully and you won’t want to do that again, because—”

“What the hell are you talking about?” he interrupted.

“—now I know why women get paid for it!”

Eve’s furious words hung in the air for a long, taut moment before Reno trusted himself to answer.

“You liked it and you know it,” Reno said in a low, lethal voice. “I didn’t rape you.”

“You didn’t rape me. And I didn’t like it!”

“Then why did you beg for me?” he retorted.

Humiliation and anger burned on Eve’s cheeks. Her lips trembled, but her voice was as steady as her eyes.

“I’ll bet if you asked a baby bird how it liked flying, it would sing happily all the way down to the ground that breaks its stupid neck!”

For an instant Reno was silent. Then he laughed despite his anger at taking a saloon girl and discovering he had made a passionate virgin bleed.

“Flying, huh?” he asked deeply.

Eve gave Reno a wary look, not trusting the sudden, velvety darkness of his voice one bit. With small, subtle motions, she tried to ease away from his grip. His long fingers tightened just enough to let her know that she was well and truly held.

“Not flying,” she said in a clipped voice. “Falling. There’s a big difference, gunfighter.”

“Only in the landing. Next time you’ll land on your feet like the sleek little cat you are.”

“There won’t be a next time.”

“Are you going back on your word?” Reno challenged smoothly.

Eve’s smile was like a piece of winter.

“I don’t have to,” she said. “You can handle me until fire freezes solid. I won’t ask again to be hurt until I bleed.”

“It’s only like that the first time. And if I had known you were a virgin, I—”

“I told you I’d never let a man under my skirts,” she interrupted. “But you didn’t believe me. You thought I was a slut. Now you know I’m not.”

Then realization came to Eve. Her mouth turned down in a bitter curve.

“I wasn’t a slut,” she corrected. “But I am now.”

Anger coiled in Reno.

“I did not make you a slut,” he said, biting off each word.

“Really? How does it happen, then? One time is a mistake and two times makes a slut? Or is it three? Maybe four?”

“Damnation.”

“Precisely,” she hissed. “How many times does it take before a girl magically becomes a slut? Do tell me, gunfighter. I’d hate to use up more than my God-given share of
fun
.”

“What am I supposed to do?” he asked furiously. “Marry you? Would that make it right again?”

“No!”

“What?” Reno asked, wondering if he had heard correctly.

“Nothing would make what we did right but love,” Eve said bitterly, “and getting love from a man like you is about as likely as finding ‘a ship
made of stone, a dry rain, and a light that casts no shadow.’”

Hearing his own words come so harshly from Eve’s tongue told Reno that he had hurt her in more than the breaching of her maidenhead.

“You thought you were in love with me,” Reno said, shocked.

Eve went pale. “Does it matter?”

“Hell, yes, it matters! You responded to me because you’re very much a woman, not because of any girlish crap about love.”

With a twisting movement, Eve pulled free of Reno’s grasp. She drew his shirt closer around her body and watched him with feral yellow eyes.

It occurred to Reno that he could have been more tactful on the subject of love. A lot more tactful.

She had been innocent, and innocence believed in love.

“Eve…”

“Fasten your pants, gunfighter. I’m tired of seeing my blood on you and knowing how foolish I was.”

E
VE
knew without turning around that Reno had followed her to the pool where water danced and whispered. She had sensed him behind her every step of the way from camp.

Her hands hesitated as she began to peel off the shirt. Beneath it she wore only underclothes whose sheer cotton provided scant protection from Reno’s eyes.

It’s a little late for maidenly modesty,
Eve told herself mockingly.
Very much like locking the barn door after the horse is long gone.

With quick, edgy motions, Eve stripped off the big shirt and threw it aside.

Reno’s breath came in with a sharp sound as he saw the bright scarlet stain on Eve’s pantalets that had been hidden by the long tails of her borrowed shirt.

“Eve,” he said in a raw voice. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

She said nothing. Nor did she look over her shoulder at Reno.

Soundlessly he came up behind Eve and put his hands on her shoulders.

“Do you think me such an animal that I get my pleasure hurting women?” he asked harshly.

Eve wanted to lie, but saw nothing except more hurt in it for her. Reno was relentless when it came to the subject of truth and saloon girls.

“No,” she said flatly.

The rush of his expelled breath stirred the hair at the nape of Eve’s neck. Gooseflesh rippled down her arms.

The treacherous response of her own body infuriated her.

“Thank God for that much,” Reno muttered.

“God had little to do with it, gunfighter. More like the devil.”

“You begged for me.”

“How kind of you to remind me,” Eve said. “It won’t happen again.”

Her whole body was rigid beneath Reno’s hands. He cursed his quick tongue and the savage anger that came when Eve reminded him of how little she had enjoyed being his lover.

Yet for him, it had been a pleasure both sweet and violently intense, right up to the instant when he realized he had taken a virgin. Then there had been a fury as deep as his passion.

“It
will
happen again,” he said, “but it won’t be a mistake. You’ll like it this time. I’ll be certain of it.”

“A no-account gunfighter once told me I’d like it so much, I’d scream with pleasure.” Eve’s shrug was a parody of her usual grace. “He was half-right. I screamed.”

Reno said something brutal under his breath before
he managed to rein in his anger. Keeping his temper had never been so difficult. Eve had a way of getting underneath his control that would have frightened him if she had been coldly manipulative. But she wasn’t. She was the most passionate woman he had ever had the joy of touching.

Unfortunately, at the moment, she fairly radiated outrage and…frustration.

Reno took in a long breath and let it out in a soundless sigh as understanding came to him. He hadn’t meant to tease her and leave her raw and knotted with hunger, yet he had done just that. He could hardly blame her if she wanted a few strips of his hide to nail to the nearest tree.

Calmly Reno turned Eve around so that she faced him. He slid his hands beneath the camisole, preparing to lift it over her head.

“What do you think you’re doing?” she demanded.

“Undressing you.”

Eve said something that normally would never have crossed her mind, much less her lips.

Reno barely hid his smile beneath his mustache. His hands paused underneath the camisole on either side of her breasts. He could see the change in her nipples as they tightened in passionate reflex to his presence.

“We’ve both agreed that you’re the kind of girl who keeps her word,” he said. “And we’ve both agreed that you gave me your word I could touch you.”

Barely veiled mutiny glittered in Eve’s eyes. Never had she looked more like a cat than she did now, watching him without blinking, her lips thinned as though ready to draw back in a spitting snarl.

“You’re going to keep your word, aren’t you?” Reno asked.

Eve didn’t answer.

“I thought so,” he said.

Slowly he slid his hands from beneath the partially laced camisole.

“But the undressing can wait,” he continued. “Hand over the soap and washrag.”

She had forgotten the piece of lilac-scented soap and cloth she had brought to the pool. With difficulty, she forced herself to unclench her hands.

Reno took the ragged square of flour sack and the pale lump of soap from her.

The deep marks left by Eve’s nails on the soap and on her other palm gave silent proof of the effort she had made not to lose what little control she had over herself.

The evidence of her own uncertain temper appalled Eve. She had never thought of herself as a particularly passionate or violent person. The orphanage had taught her never to lose control of herself, for if she did, she would be at the mercy of others.

Just as she had been at Reno’s mercy, reaching for love and getting nothing in return but pain.

Pity I had to learn the lesson all over again.

Reno looked at the crescents Eve’s nails had cut in the soap and in her own skin. Then he looked at her eyes. There was nothing of laughter or passion or curiosity in them now. Her eyes were as bleak as a winter sunset.

“Eve,” he whispered.

She simply watched him out of yellow cat’s eyes.

“I’m sorry I hurt you,” he said. “But I’m not sorry about having you. You were silk and fire.…”

Reno’s voice died. Eve’s innocent passion had
been a revelation that his mind still had trouble accepting.

His body had no such problem. Though he had just had her, he wanted her again. She wanted him, too. He was certain of it. Her body was crying out its hunger and frustration.

But Eve was too innocent to understand the source of her anger. Reno knew better than to try to convince her with words. She was in no mood to listen to him on any subject, least of all the subject of her own needs as a woman.

Besides, there were better ways than words to teach an innocent like Eve, more pleasurable ways. For both of them. All he had to do was convince her to trust him with her passion again.

A difficult task, but not an impossible one. Her body was already on his side.

“Since you’re feeling shy, I won’t undress you,” he said calmly.

Surprise widened Eve’s eyes. She hadn’t expected Reno to allow her any slack at all.

His smile told her that he knew very well the source of her surprise. He tucked the washrag into the waist of his pants and shoved the soap into a pocket.

“Into the pool,” Reno said.

“What?”

“Come on. You’ll feel better after a bath.”

Eve said nothing. She just waded until the waterfall’s cool silver braids twisted down less than a foot away from her. Water lapped to midthigh and swirled around her legs in patterns of rainbow bubbles.

To Eve’s surprise, Reno walked into the pool right behind her. He didn’t undress, as she had feared he would. He looked just as he had when
he had rolled off her—half-buttoned shirt, bare feet, and dark pants.

At least his pants were fastened now.

Heat climbed Eve’s cheeks as she remembered how Reno had looked before, his pants undone, the evidence of her virginal stupidity gleaming scarlet in the daylight for everyone to see.

“Your hair is as clean as sunshine,” Reno said, “but I’ll wash it if you like.”

Eve shook her head tightly.

“Then I’ll tuck it up out of the way.”

“No,” she said instantly, not wanting to be touched. “I’ll do it.”

Hurriedly Eve caught up her long hair and twisted it into a knot on top of her head. A few tendrils slithered back down. She ignored them. The look on Reno’s face as she lifted her arms and dealt with her hair told her that he liked watching her breasts shift and sway with each movement of her body.

And if the look on his face weren’t enough, there was the frank bulge in his pants to give away his thoughts. Hastily she glanced away.

“Ready?” Reno asked.

“For what?”

He bent and scooped up water in his cupped hands.

“To get wet,” he said simply. “You can hardly take a bath when you’re dry, can you?”

Reno’s reasonable tone of voice was at odds with the smoldering sensuality of his eyes.

“I don’t need any help getting wet,” Eve muttered.

He laughed softly and let water from his hands trickle down the front of her camisole.

“Some things are better when they’re shared,” Reno said in a husky voice.

“Baths?” she asked sarcastically.

“I don’t know. I’ve never shared one.”

Eve looked surprised.

“It’s true,” he said.

“I believe you.”

“Do you?”

“Yes.”

She shivered as water that was neither warm nor cold trickled down between her breasts.

“Why?” he asked, curious.

“You wouldn’t bother to lie to a slut.”

Reno closed his eyes and grappled with the rage that stabbed him like black lightning, threatening to rip away his control.

“I suggest,” he said distinctly, “that you never use that word again in my hearing.”

“Why not? You’re so damned fond of the truth.”

He opened his eyes. “Baiting me won’t make you feel better. I can guarantee it.”

Eve made an involuntary sound and looked away. The grim shadows and raw fury she saw in his glance reminded her too much of her own seething turmoil. In any case, Reno was right. Baiting him hadn’t made Eve feel better. It had made her feel worse, on the breaking edge of her own control. She felt like biting and clawing and screaming. The depth of her own wildness was frightening.

“And that’s all you’re doing,” Reno added. “Baiting me. We both know you’re not a slut.”

Eve said nothing.

The temptation to push Eve until she agreed with him nearly overwhelmed Reno, but he managed to keep his silence. Barely. He scooped up more water, letting it fall in sparkling liquid necklaces over Eve until her camisole and pantalets were drenched.

Eve closed her eyes and pretended that she was washing herself beneath one of the barrel showers Don Lyon had rigged before his hands became too crippled for such things.

The cool glide of the water down her body made her shiver, but not with cold. The day was too hot for that, and the sun’s heat was both absorbed and reflected by the high rock walls.

Eve flinched at the first touch of Reno’s hands on her shoulders. He whispered her name unhappily. Through a screen of thick bronze eyelashes, she saw the painful line of Reno’s mouth.

“I won’t hurt you,” he said with aching control. “I would never have hurt you the first time, if I had known.…”

Eve’s breath came out in a long, ragged sigh. She nodded, believing him, for it was the simple truth. She had sensed that about Reno the instant he sat down at her table in Canyon City; despite his size, despite his strength, despite his lethal speed, he wasn’t the kind of man who enjoyed cruelty.

“I know,” she said in a low voice. “It’s why I dealt cards to you. You weren’t what Slater and Raleigh King were.”

Reno let out breath that he wasn’t aware of having held. He brushed his lips over Eve’s forehead in a soft caress that ended before she could be sure she had felt it at all.

“Let me bathe you,” he said.

She hesitated, then reached up to remove her camisole. Hands sleek with lather closed over her wrists, holding her gently.

“Let me,” Reno said.

She hesitated again.

“I won’t take you,” he said. “Not unless you ask me to. I just want to make you…hurt less.”

Unable to bear the intensity of Reno’s eyes, Eve
closed her own and nodded. For several moments she waited in an agony of suspense, but when Reno touched her, it was only to wash her face as gently as he had his nephew’s.

Yet Eve didn’t feel like a baby. Reno’s touch made an almost painful pleasure course through her. She hadn’t known how sensitive her face was. The ritual of soaping and washing and rinsing made frissons of pleasure ripple over her.

“Was that so bad?” Reno asked.

Eve shook her head. A long tendril of hair floated free. Reno tucked it behind one ear.

“How about this?” he asked.

He bent and began tracing every clean curve of Eve’s ear with his tongue and then his teeth, biting with exquisite care, enjoying the ragged intake and breaking of her breath. When the tip of his tongue probed and tested, spiraling down, retreating, returning, caressing, she made an odd sound in her throat and clung to his arms for balance.

Reno lifted his head and looked down into Eve’s wide, surprised eyes.

“Is something wrong?” he whispered.

“I…” She swallowed. “I never know what to expect from you.”

“Your boyfriends must have been, er, unimaginative.”

“I never had one, imaginative or otherwise.”

“No boyfriend?” Reno asked. “Not even for a few stolen kisses out by the barn?”

Eve shook her head. “I never wanted a male near me. Until you.”

“My God.”

The realization of just how innocent Eve had been went through Reno in a shock wave of pleasure and surprise. So innocent, yet she had been
a passionate spring welling up at his touch, his word, his lightest caress.

So innocent…so passionate. The possibilities for mutual pleasure were enough to make him light-headed. He hardly knew where to begin.

Reno’s glittering green glance swept over Eve. Her underwear was nearly transparent, clinging to every curve and valley of her body. The taut crowns of her breasts stood out clearly, as did the luxuriant triangle of bronze hair that both shielded and outlined her essential femininity.

“My God,” he said again, reverently. “No man has ever touched you at all, has he?”

“Not quite,” she whispered.

“Who?” he demanded.

“You’ve touched me,” she said simply. “Only you.”

In a hush that seethed with the small songs of water, Reno washed Eve to the waist. He tried not to linger over her breasts, but it was impossible. The velvet hardness of her nipples lured him irresistibly. He returned to them again and again, until they stood out urgently against the camisole, drawn taut by more than the cool water.

Saying nothing, Reno pulled Eve under the gentle waterfall, rinsing her. When he was finished, he slowly pulled off her camisole and tucked it into the waistband of his pants. Then he bent and tasted the freshness of her skin until she made small noises and clung to him.