Beneath Passion's Skies

by Bobbi Smith

  Blade had been terrified that their play had turned deadly. When he felt someone grab his ankle, he thought it was Lucky disobeying his order to stay put. He reached back to grab him, not wanting him in danger, too. He found when he dragged the boy up to him and clasped an arm around his waist to hold him that he’d caught not the boy but Angel. With a powerful kick, he sent them upward.

  “What the—?” he growled, glaring at his waterlogged captive.

  Angel sputtered and laughed. “Fooled you!”

  “You did more than fool me, you just about scared us to death,” he said sternly, keeping an arm tightly around her as he treaded water.

  “Hah! All’s fair in love and war!” She was laughing as she made her declaration, but she instantly sobered when their eyes met and she saw the intensity of his gaze.

  Angel became conscious of the cool, sensuous caress of the water around them and the contrasting heat of his strong arm clasping her to his hot, bare chest. The steady motion of his legs as he kept them afloat aroused her. Instinctively, she wanted to wrap her arms and legs around him. She wanted to trust him with her life and almost felt she could. Her eyes widened at the thought.

  Blade’s gray eyes were stormy. One moment Angel was his cool and haughty employer; the next, she was a light-hearted vixen taunting and teasing him with her innocent ways. She couldn’t know that he lay awake at night, remembering the single kiss they’d shared at the river’s edge. At the memory of that kiss, heat seared his loins, and his gaze fell from her eyes to her mouth. He wanted to kiss her again. And more. He wanted to carry her up on the bank and make love to her. He wished they were alone! He was very glad they weren’t.

  “Is Angel all right?” The sound of Lucky’s splashing as he attempted to swim out to them interrupted Blade’s erotic reverie.

  “She’s fine,” Blade answered, fighting desire. In irritation, he realized he’d better not swim in too close to the shore; he wouldn’t be able to stand up in the shallows for a while. He was glad the water was cold.

  “Yes, I’m all right,” Angel confirmed. Then, trying to lighten the mood, she added, “But I did get even with you both!”

  “Yeah, but we were wet already,” Lucky argued as he thrashed back to safety.

  Blade reached the area where they could touch bottom and quickly released her. He moved away, staying in water up to his chest as Angel got her footing and stood up. Blade had thought his torment was over. He’d thought himself safe now that she was out of his arms. He’d been wrong. She rose before him like an ancient water goddess. His eyes darkened as his gaze dropped to her breasts. Her wet blouse and camisole were nearly transparent, molded to her body like a second skin. Every enticing detail of her breasts was revealed to him beneath the pale veil of soaked fabric.

  Angel saw his reaction, and she glanced down. She gasped and turned away, crossing her arms across her chest, and started for the bank.

  “Angel, you want to play some more?” Lucky asked as she sloshed past him on her way to dry ground.

  “I may take a bath later, but I think I need to dry out right now. Remember to wash while you’re here, all right?”

  “I will,” he promised.

  Blade stayed in the lake with Lucky for some time after Angel left them. He gave him a few tips on how to improve his swimming and then played and roughhoused with him in the age-old way of males until it was almost dusk. Only then did they pause to wash before returning to the campsite, Lucky leading the way.

  Angel had changed into her riding habit and was sitting by the fire. As Lucky approached, it occurred to her how completely he’d changed. The sullen, hostile little boy she’d caught stealing from her was gone. In his place was a happy, robust child who looked as if he hadn’t a care in the world. It filled her with joy to know that he was so much better off.

  “That was fun, huh, Blade?”

  “Yes, and once you practice your swimming a little more, I’ll race you.”

  “You’re on!”

  Blade was clad only in his pants and boots when he and Lucky joined Angel. He’d heard her tell the boy earlier that she’d wanted to bathe, so he told her, “If you want to go wash before it gets too dark, we’ll stay here so you can be alone.”

  “It would feel good to be clean again,” she admitted, oh-so-aware of him standing nearby.

  “Here’s the soap, Angel.” Lucky tossed it to her.

  “Thanks, sweetie. You look much nicer now that you’re cleaned up.”

  “I don’t know how you can tell the difference.”

  “I can tell.” She stood up and gathered her things, then went down to the lake. “I won’t be long.”

  Angel was a bit hesitant about undressing completely, but a glance back at the camp showed Blade to be a man of his word. He’d sat down with his back to the lake, Lucky beside him. No one would see her. Quickly, she unfastened the tie that held her hair in a braid, then stripped off her riding habit, grabbed up the soap, and dashed into the lake.

  Angel let out a long, delighted sigh as she sank down into the chilly water. She was in ecstasy. A sensuous laugh escaped her as she wet her hair and then washed and rinsed it thoroughly. It felt delicious to be clean. She hummed a soft melody as she continued to scrub. Angel could not remember when she’d enjoyed a bath so much. It didn’t matter that she was in the middle of a lake in the wilds with only a cake of crude soap. If cleanliness were next to godliness, she was in heaven. She floated on her back until total darkness threatened and then made her way back to the bank.

  On impulse Angel put on the one and only daygown she’d brought with her. She felt the need to look like a woman again for at least a little while. She buttoned the sedate dark blue dress, noticing that without petticoats it seemed even plainer. But Angel felt good. She wrapped her towel around her hair turban-style and strolled back.

  Blade had told himself he was a man of honor. He’d promised Angel would have privacy for her bath, and he’d meant it—at the time. But from the moment he’d heard her first splash into the lake and the realization had hit him that she’d shed all or at least most of her clothes, he’d been fighting a raging battle with his less-than-chivalrous side.

  It took all of Blade’s considerable self-control to remain where he was talking idly with her brother, and he silently cursed his self-inflicted gallantry. Minutes passed. His active imagination did not rest. He wondered in short-tempered irritation why it was taking her so damned long to wash. She wasn’t a big woman. He could have washed her himself in about two minutes flat.

  Blade shifted positions. He tried to distract himself, tried to think of other things, but there was no mental escape. Her soft melody was a whisper on the wind and it was weaving a spell around him like a siren’s song. Blade knew if she didn’t get done soon, he was going to have to get up and move. There was only so much a man could be expected to take.

  “I’m done,” Angel called, coming into view.

  The minute Blade saw her in the dress, he almost groaned his appreciation. Without underskirts the gown fit closely, outlining the feminine curves of her hips to perfection.

  “Good, now we can eat!” Lucky said, serving up the food he’d been anxiously awaiting.

  Angel took her plate from Lucky and sat down across the fire from them. After eating the plain but nourishing fare of beans and meat, she set the dish aside and unwrapped the towel from her hair. Shaking out her tangled mane, she began to work her comb through it until she realized that Blade was watching her. “Is something wrong?” she asked.

  Blade wanted to tell her how incredibly lovely she looked with her hair down. The firelight added a red-gold cast, and the silken strands looked like molten gold. He wanted to run his hands through the shimmering cascade.

  But he was there to protect, not ravish, her. Blade denied himself again. When he answered, his tone was harsh. “You aren’t planning to wear that dress to ride tomorrow, are you?”

  “No. The leather skirt should be dry enough to wear
by then.”

  “Good.” He scowled, his voice curt and brusque as he stood up. “You wouldn’t last an hour in that thing.”

  “I know, I—” Angel got no further. Blade had stalked into the darkness. Puzzled, she stared after him. What had she said? What had she done?

  Chapter Fifteen

  Lonely, since Angel was already asleep, Lucky went in search of company.

  “Blade?” he called softly at the edge of the lake.

  “Yeah, Lucky. What do you want?” Blade’s answer came to him through the darkness.

  “I was just wondering where you went, is all. You swimming again?” he replied drawing closer to the water.

  “Thought I’d take advantage of it while I had the chance. Stay where you are, I’ll come out now.” Blade had needed to douse the fire in his body and had swum vigorously until the exercise eased the ache in his loins. But the vision of Angel in his mind was harder to banish.

  “Why aren’t you asleep?” Blade asked as he pulled on his pants and sat down on the bank beside Lucky.

  “I couldn’t sleep. Angel fell asleep right away, though.”

  A vision of her crept disturbingly into Blade’s thoughts. “Damn, but I could use a smoke right now,” he muttered in exasperation.

  “Don’t go anywhere,” Lucky told him. “I’ll be right back.”

  Before Blade could say a word, the boy jumped up and darted back toward camp. Lucky was excited. He hadn’t had the chance to smoke since that night in town. Taking care not to disturb Angel, he dug through his pack, then—his prize tightly in hand—he raced back to the lake.

  “Here.” He held out the cigarette makings he’d bought from Eli and Joss.

  “Where’d you get this?” Blade was amazed.

  The quick-witted Lucky wove his reply into Angel’s story of their background. “From my father’s things. He smoked, and I wanted to try as soon as I could get away from Angel. Promise you won’t tell her? She’d be mad.” To the boy’s great dismay and frustration, Blade took all the tobacco and papers from his outstretched hand.

  “Thanks.”

  Lucky watched with a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach as Blade rolled two cigarettes, pocketed one and lit the other. Lucky had wanted to smoke. He’d wanted to sit there with Blade and be men together. He almost cussed.

  “Can I have the other one?” he ventured in one last desperate hope.

  Blade glanced at him, his expression stern. “Your sister would be mad for good reason. You’re too young. Wait a few years until you’re a man on your own.”

  Lucky wanted to blurt out that he was a ‘man on his own’ and that he had been for some time now, but he didn’t. He wanted to earn his money from Angel more than he wanted that one cigarette. “Yes, sir,” he replied miserably.

  “You won’t be sorry. You’ll have a lot of time to smoke when you’re older.” Blade fell silent for a moment. He understood the boy’s rush to manhood. “By tomorrow night we should be far enough out to take some target practice. What do you think? Do you want to try?”

  “Oh, boy, do I!” Lucky’s excitement was real, his disappointment over not sharing the cigarettes almost forgotten. “Which one are you going to teach me to use? Your rifle or your gun?”

  “We’ll start with the handgun. The rifle’s heavier and harder to handle. I’ll show you how to use that later, after you’ve mastered the gun.”

  “Thanks!”

  “The most important thing to remember is that a gun is a tool—a dangerous tool. If used right, it can be for good; but if it’s used wrong, people die.” There was a tension in his words, and Blade took a last, long drag on the cigarette before putting it out.

  Lucky listened intently. “Who taught you how to shoot so good?”

  “My father.”

  “Was it hard for you to learn?”

  “Very. There’s a lot more to marksmanship than aiming and firing. It takes a steady hand and a good eye.”

  “I hope I do good,” Lucky said earnestly, wanting to please Blade.

  “You’ll do fine,” he assured him.

  “You gonna teach Angel too?”

  His question took Blade by surprise. He hadn’t considered that she’d want to learn. “That’ll be up to her. If she wants to, I will.”

  “You really like Angel, don’t you?” he pried.

  “Your sister’s a nice lady, and she is my boss.”

  “No, I mean, you really like her. You know.”

  Blade was glad it was dark so Lucky couldn’t see the consternation in his expression. “Lucky, you don’t really understand the way things are between a man and a woman.” He tried to avoid the topic as gracefully as generations of men before him had tried with inquisitive young boys; and, as with past generations, it didn’t work.

  “You sure looked like you liked her a lot when we were swimming. She’s awful pretty, isn’t she?”

  “Your sister’s a very lovely woman.”

  “Why don’t you tell her you like her?”

  “Things just aren’t that way between us. Like I said, she hired me to do a job, and she expects me to do it. Besides, she’s going to California to marry her Christopher.”

  “Yeah,” Lucky agreed, remembering her marriage plans and wondering how she could think any man could be better than Blade. That Christopher of hers had to be real special.

  “What do you say we turn in for the night,” Blade suggested, and they returned to camp. Everything was peaceful. Everything, that is, except Blade’s thoughts. He paused near Angel to watch her rest.

  The boy was right, Blade admitted painfully to himself. He did care for her. He desired her, but—even more—he would protect her and keep her safe, no matter what the cost.

  Love. The word entered his consciousness unbidden. Did he love her? Blade considered the revelation, remembering her words All was fair in love and war. He wondered which it was going to be. He knew that decision was up to Angel, but if it came to war, he was ready to fight and win.

  The next day they made good progress, and late in the afternoon Blade started looking for a place to stop where they could take target practice. He found a large clearing about an hour before sunset. Blade was ready to show Lucky the mechanics of loading a sidearm, and since Lucky had mentioned that Angel might want to learn how to shoot, too, he decided to ask her.

  “I’m ready to give Lucky his first shooting lesson tonight, if you want to watch.”

  “Thanks, I’d like that. I don’t know the first thing about guns, and considering where we’re heading, it certainly couldn’t hurt to learn.” Angel’s words sounded forthright, but she had an ulterior motive. When the day came when she would have to defend Christopher from Michael, she wanted to be ready.

  Angel and Lucky listened to Blade’s comments about safety and preparation. They each practiced loading until they became reasonably proficient, and then it was time for their introduction to marksmanship.

  “Can I go first?” Lucky asked eagerly, his dark eyes aglow.

  “Just remember what I told you,” Blade cautioned, wanting to temper enthusiasm with respect. “Take your time and aim carefully.”

  The gun felt awkward and heavy in Lucky’s hand, but he was determined to learn. He closed one eye and bit down on his tongue as he concentrated on the target Blade had fixed for them—a piece of sackcloth tacked to a tree some thirty feet away. To the best of his novice ability, Lucky aimed and fired. The brush stirred several feet to the side of the tree. “I missed,” he groaned.

  “Try again. Up a little and to the left this time, and don’t hold your breath,” Blade advised.

  Lucky nodded. Focusing solely on the square of material, he aimed. This time his shot was closer, but still fell short of accurate. The target was unscathed and could be used another day. At the boy’s crestfallen expression, Blade tried to cheer him.

  “Don’t worry. I told you it takes a lot of practice. For your first time shooting, you’re doing well. Angel? Are you
ready?” Blade took the gun from Lucky and handed it to Angel.

  “I’m as ready as I’ll ever be,” she admitted.

  Angel lifted the revolver with one hand, but discovered immediately how heavy it was. She squeezed one shot that went high and wide, then tried to aim again. Her second shot was off the mark, too, and the gun felt leaden.

  “Are you having trouble holding it?”

  “It’s heavier than I thought.”

  “Let me show you a different grip,” Blade offered, positioning himself behind her. “Hold the gun with two hands.”

  He put his arms around her to steady the weapon. The fire within him that he’d kept carefully banked all day raged to life anew. He wanted to draw her back to him and kiss the side of her neck. He wanted to fit the softness of her hips fully against his. He wanted to make love to her until they were both exhausted.

  “Now, sight down the barrel.” He had to lean closer to show her the proper way to aim, and he was tempted to press a soft kiss on her ear.

  Angel was having trouble thinking straight. She was acutely conscious of the heat of his body against hers, of his lips so close to her ear, and of his strong arms around her. Her breasts tightened in response, and an ache gnawed at her heart. She had to force her voice to be firm as she asked, “Like this?”

  “Right. Now, just squeeze the trigger slowly. Almost like you’re caressing it.”

  Angel did as she was told; and, with Blade steadying her, her shot nicked the edge of the cloth.

  “We did it!!” She was thrilled, and she twisted in his arms to look up at him. Her movement brought them face-to-face, a mere breath apart. Their eyes met, and she saw something flicker in the now stormy gray depths of his gaze that both frightened and excited her.

  Blade almost gave in to the urge to tighten his arms around her, pull her to him, and kiss her, but he controlled his passion. This was not the time. He dropped his arms. “Try again, but be careful.”

  Angel felt bereft when he let her go and moved away from her. She turned back to the target so he couldn’t see the confusion in her eyes. Her thoughts bewildered her. Had she really wanted him to kiss her again? In that one breathless moment when their eyes had met, she’d felt.... unnerved.