The Gambler (29 page)

Her moan came in perfect unison with his, and suddenly he had pulled from her grasp and was unbuckling his belt.

Fear came to her like a sudden stab of conscience, sharp and quick.

"Charm?" His hands had gone still and his voice very low. "Are you all right?"

"Yes." She swallowed, still ridden hard by desire. "Don't stop."

His gaze held her face for a long moment, and it almost seemed, even in her fuzzy state of unreality, that he was fighting some battle she didn't quite understand.

"Don't stop," she said again, and reaching up, placed one palm on the hot expanse of his bare chest. "Please."

He groaned. The tone was deep and needy and somehow sounded pained.

"Please," she whispered again, no longer feeling fear, but only the achy need to be his. "Touch me. Don't quit."

"No," he said, his tone perfectly level now. "No, I won't quit. Roll over."

"What?" She heard the wariness in her own tone.

"Trust me, Charm," he said quietly. Leaning down, he kissed her.

Though the caress was ever so gentle, she could feel him tremble. "All right," she whispered, and when he'd moved aside, she rolled onto her abdomen, feeling suddenly foolish, and naked and stiff with fear.

His hands were very warm against her shoulders when they massaged her there. She remained as she was, barely breathing, waiting. He kneaded gently, down one arm, rolling the aching muscles in his strong palms.

Charm let out a sigh, beginning to relax, absorbing the lovely feel of flesh against flesh. Raven's hands worked up again, toward her shoulder and then down along the length of her back. His kisses felt like warm liquid against her spine, his hands like magic even when they massaged the intimate tenderness of her buttocks.

She noticed with rather dim surprise that a blanket was beneath her and that her body felt very limp and warm, as though it had been dipped in tepid water and had been lying in the sun to dry.

Raven's kisses followed his hands, over her buttocks, down her legs. Her eyes fell closed. His hands kept moving, across her calves now, easing away the ache there and finally kneading the soles of her feet.

Charm shivered as his lips touched her toes, but she failed to open her eyes as she pressed her hips weakly into the blanket below.

The kisses were traveling upward again, over every yielding curve of her body to finally stop at the nape of her neck.

"Please," she whispered, forgetting everything but the soft waves of darkness that welcomed her. "Don't quit."

"No," he said, and kissing her shoulder, gently folded her into the soft comfort of sleep.

Raven watched her awaken. It had been a new experience for him, watching her sleep, watching the shadows be replaced by light upon her lovely features. He had helped her find rest, had lulled her with his hands into slumber. It was a heady feeling, this one night of owning her trust.

But she sat up with a start now, looked down in wordless awe at her shocking nudity, and grasped the blanket close to her chest with one shaky hand. "How dare you?" she gasped, looking like nothing more than a wild-eyed wood fairy caught in a compromising state of undress.

"How dare I what?" he asked, keeping his tone steady, though he felt tense and starved for something he could not quite define.

"Where are my clothes?" Her question was breathy, her hair tousled and glistening in the early morning light.

Without a word Raven handed over her garments. Their gazes caught and their hands touched, shocking them both with the contact. She yanked away as if seared, but her gaze remained on his. Her expression showed a mosaic of confused emotions before she turned her face rapidly away.

He felt he could see her thoughts, could read them as though they were his own. "We didn't do anything wrong, Charm," he said softly. He wanted to take her into his arms and cradle her against his chest, to smooth away her fears, to do the very thing he had disallowed himself to do last night. But it would indeed be wrong. For all she had wanted was to be touched, to be held, to be loved. Whether she knew it or not, it was true. While he wanted much more... or was it, in fact, much less? "There's no need to be ashamed."

She swung her gaze wildly toward him again, and then, like a fragile doe leaping away, she fled, hugging blanket and clothes to her bosom and scurrying into the cover of the trees.

She was silent again that day. What had he done to upset her so? True, he'd gotten her drunk. Well, not drunk exactly, only slightly tipsy. And besides, he hadn't done
it.
Hadn't... Words, even mental words, always failed him at this point, for the thought of making love to Chantilly Charm Grady Fergusson made his hands sweat and his throat go dry. Perhaps he'd been a fool to resist her. But... His gaze traveled sideways, finding her wide eyes again. She still looked frightened.

"We'd best stop for the night," he said, feeling weary. It was an unreasonable fatigue, he thought, for in the past, he'd been known to gamble through several consecutive nights without undue strain. But her reticence, her fear, her very presence, was wearing on him. "Angel threw a shoe."

They'd come to another break in the prairie, a rocky knoll with a smattering of trees and a small, precious water source.

Again she made the fire and again he unsaddled the horses before leading them down a sandy decline to drink. It had been a hot day, and still the air hung heavy and unmoving. Raven's horse drank before sampling a few sparse blades of grass that survived the current, but Angelsplashed in the stream, playfully tossing his homely head as the water sprayed up to douse his face and chest. Raven watched his silly antics, but he thought of Charm, how her lips parted when he kissed her, how she arched her breasts against him and set his being on fire.

Angel's water play became more subdued, and finally he buckled his knees to slouch into the water. Raven watched—and thought of Charm, how her breathing escalated when he touched her, how she begged him not to stop.

The spotted gelding rolled now, sloshing water in every direction before clambering to his feet to collapse on his opposite side. Raven watched, and still he thought of Charm.

"Christ's sake," he finally said aloud. Disgusted with himself for his perpetually wandering imaginings, he clamped his teeth shut, as though that might force the girl from his mind.

Refreshed by his impromptu bath, Angel finally stood and shook, spraying water over the pair on the bank before pulling on the reins in an effort to reach the nearby grasses. Raven moved along with the geldings for a few minutes, watching as they grazed, and finally he hobbled them in a sheltered spot where the turf was deep and green. In a moment he went back to the stream where he filled the canteen before returning to Charm.

Her top two buttons were open!

It was the first thing... no... it was the only thing Raven noticed. His gaze riveted to that space where her gown separated to reveal a modest vee of flesh. It was no more than nine square inches of skin, and yet...

Raven's feet dragged to a halt. Their gazes met. Charm straightened slowly, looking dazed and stunning. Their breath stopped in unison.

"Charm... I..." He took one unconscious step forward. She lifted her chin slightly, not breathing, her eyes wide. "I need a bath," Raven murmured on an exhalation and, turning stiffly about, fled toward the stream.

*

Charm chopped the potatoes into small bits. They were old and wrinkled and would cook quickly amidst the bits of beef jerky broth that boiled over the fire. Putting water in a small kettle, she hung it, too, over the blaze, and then she sat, wringing her hands and biting her lip.

It wasn't as if she had any desire to watch Raven Scott bathe. No. That would be indecent. She bit her lip again and found, however, that her gaze had strayed in the direction of the stream.

The sun had set, and her fire burned clean. She wouldn't be needed to watch the meal. Her hands separated nervously. She tapped her fingers on her thigh, still kneeling by the blaze and thinking.

It was hot. Cool water would feel wonderful. Not that she wanted to watch Raven bathe, of course. But it sure was hot. She stood and paced a circular path around the small fire. The evening's bumpy clouds, alight with tangerine and scarlet hues, had faded, only to be seen as tattered grey ghosts over the besieged moon.

Maybe it would rain. Was Raven in the stream now? Completely naked? She paced again, chewing her lip. It sure was hot. A bath would do her good. Not that she wanted to watch Raven bathe but...

"Oh hell!" she breathed suddenly and found she was already striding toward the stream. Off to her left, the geldings were grazing. Angel raised his head and bobbled his massive roman nose at her as if in greeting, but Charm barely noticed, for through the leafy, low branches of a cottonwood she caught a flash of movement.

It was Raven. Without having to give it any thought, she knew she should turn around and march back toward camp. But she didn't. Her feet were silent on the sandy soil. The semidarkness and the muted colors of her gown hid her approach, and suddenly she was poised in the spring-green foliage of the trees. Standing at the top of a steep bank, she looked down.

The moon, perhaps battling with the clouds for an unobscured view of the scene beneath its bald yellow head, shone full force now. It glistened on the silvered peaks of the magical waves and fell without modesty on the bared posterior of the man called Raven.

His hair gleamed a deep sapphire color. His shoulders were wide and dark, and from there his body tapered in masculine lines to the taut expanse of his waist. Below that... Charm swallowed hard. She shouldn't be there, she knew, and had nearly convinced herself to leave when he knelt to splash water on his torso. The silvery waves lapped lovingly at his buttocks.

Charm grasped a branch in each hand and drew a sharp breath through her teeth. Raven's head turned, like a fine, gallant stallion that had caught a scent of danger. Charm remained motionless, not daring to breathe. Yet, he stood, finally turning slowly to stare in her direction.

Dear God. This was no time to faint, because he'd probably hear her fall, and besides, if she fainted she'd be unable to watch...

What was wrong with her? He'd lied to her, taken her mother's Bible,
abducted
her! And yet... as he turned his attention back to the water, she could not forget the feel of his hands on her skin, the quick hard beat of his heart against hers. Charm's breath came in quick spurts now. She should leave immediately. This very instant. But... Well, didn't she need to learn about men in order to overcome her fear of them? And wasn't this the most practical way to do so—without his knowledge, from the safety of the trees?

God, he was beautiful! She released her hold on the branches, easing forward a scant half inch to see better. Yes, he was constructed like a wild stallion, with every muscle tight as a knot, and every line sleek as a running steed's. And his... his...

Suddenly, Charm's foot slipped on the exposed root of a cottonwood. She grappled wildly for a hold, scrambled for footing, and then gasped in dismay as she slid down the sharp bank to land with a slithering thud not four feet from where Raven bathed.

Even by moonlight she could see the shock stamped on his face. His mouth moved soundlessly. Charm could do nothing but stare up from her soggy position in wide-eyed horror.

"You were watching me!"

"No!" she squeaked in denial. But there was no hope of being believed, for she lay like a beached trout, gaping up at him.

"You were..."—he waved a hand indicating the immediate area—"you were sneaking around
watching
me."

Her lips moved. Everything else remained immobile.

He strode forward, his fists lightly clenched. Even now, she could not help but notice the fine, fluid movement of his glistening form.

"What do you want?" His words were a mere whisper but seemed to reverberate down to her very soul.

"You." She thought she had only said the word mentally, a shameful admission of her own weakness, but suddenly she realized she had verbalized her scandalous desire. "I want you," she whispered, no longer attempting to stop the words.

His fists tightened, as did his jaw. "No," he said hoarsely. Turning with stiff resolution, he marched out of the water and away.

Why was she doing this to him? Raven sat alone in the darkness. He had retrieved the remaining bottle of wine and was now determined to drink himself into oblivion. Lots of people did it. It couldn't be that hard, and yet he felt stone-cold sober.

Perhaps she would run away. Perhaps she'd go back to Jude. He'd let her go. He would! In fact, he'd have himself a little celebration. He must have been crazy to drag her halfway across the Dakota Territory. The reward wasn't worth it, because he was losing his mind.

He could think of nothing but Charm. She troubled his days, haunted his nights. He'd lost track of his main goal in life. Hell! What
had
his mission been? To find his father? Why? To make him pay for leaving his mother? But he knew none of the circumstances. He didn't know why his old man had not returned, and now things seemed so much more complicated. Love for a woman changed everything.

Love!

Raven stood abruptly. Love! With a wild toss, he smashed the empty bottle against a tree and swore. The girl was driving him insane, but who was to say his own mother hadn't done the same to his father? Perhaps Raven's old man had left to gain a fortune just as he had told his young bride. Perhaps he had had every intention of returning, but when his mission failed, he lacked the nerve to return empty-handed to admit defeat to the woman he loved. Love changed a man.

There was that word again! Love! Raven gritted his teeth and paced. The last thing he needed was to be tied to a woman, and especially to the killer woman. He snorted wildly, but his gaze had turned unconsciously toward camp.
She
would be lying down with the moonlight painting soft shadows across her perfect features. Her eyes would be closed and her lashes would be like dark chestnut down against her cheeks. He could go to her now. He could take her in his arms and kiss her and tell her of his love.