All she wanted was to be closer to him. She needed to feel more of his body covering her, to bury her fingers in his hair and hold his mouth against her forever.
As though Linc knew what Holly wanted, he released her hands. Her fingers raked up his back, then burrowed into his hair. In the instant before he flinched, she remembered his injury.
“I’m sorry,” Holly said breathlessly. “Does it hurt?”
“Only when you stop touching me.”
She looked at Linc’s eyes. Her breath filled her throat. Even in her dreams he had not wanted her so much.
Very gently Holly turned Linc’s head so that she could see the swelling just beneath his ear. Her own breath hissed out.
The bruise was darker than it had been last night. Its center was a crust of blood.
“You must have a terrible headache,” she said.
Linc smiled crookedly.
“Isn’t that the woman’s line?” he asked dryly.
Holly laughed despite her concern.
“I’ve got some aspirin in my kit that will help the ache,” she said.
His hands closed over her arms, gently holding her when she would have left the sleeping bag.
“There are other kinds of aches,” he said in a low voice. “Aspirin won’t do a damn thing about them.”
“Take two aspirin—” Holly began.
“—and call you in the morning,” Linc finished, covering his face with a groan. “That’s nearly as old as the line about headaches.”
“Serves you right,” she said impishly.
With that Holly slipped out of the bag.
Linc could have stopped her, but decided to watch her instead. Wearing only an open jacket and old jeans, she was worth looking at.
When Holly tried to close her jacket, the zipper jammed at the bottom. She fussed with it for a moment, then gave up. She overlapped the front and stuffed the jacket into her pants like a blouse.
“I’ll get the aspirin,” she said.
Linc simply smiled. The gap in the jacket offered intriguing glimpses of the breasts beneath.
Holly sat down, dragged her large seaman’s duffel onto her lap, and jammed her arm into the open end. Frowning, she fished blindly through the deep bag, trying to find her first-aid kit by a combination of memory and touch.
As Holly worked, her jacket slowly pulled open, revealing and then concealing her breasts in a display that was as unintentional as it was arousing.
Linc watched with half-closed eyes. If Holly’s reaction to him hadn’t been so plainly a combination of embarrassment and passion, he would have reached out and dragged her back into the sleeping bag. But she looked—and acted—as innocent as she had six years ago.
The thought was both staggering and violently arousing to him.
Holly made an exasperated sound and shook the bag. Her breasts swayed in echo of her movements.
With a stifled groan, Linc looked away.
Her head snapped up. A worried expression pinched her face.
“Lie down, Linc. Please.”
Without a word, he put his arm over his eyes and laid back on the rumpled bag.
Finally Holly’s fingers felt a smooth plastic bottle. She yanked it out, shook two aspirin into one hand, hesitated, then added two more. She grabbed the canteen from under a pile of Linc’s soggy clothing and went back to him.
“Here,” Holly said. “Take these.”
Cautiously he opened his eyes. She was kneeling in front of him, holding out aspirin in one hand and a canteen in the other.
Holly’s breasts were mostly covered. Linc told himself that was an improvement.
He didn’t believe it.
“Four?” Linc asked.
“I usually take two and you’re twice as big as I am.”
Linc’s glance moved from Holly’s unique slanted eyes to the well-shaped nails on her bare feet. His hand curled around her foot and his thumb caressed her arch.
“How about if I take you twice and to hell with calling the doctor?” Linc suggested huskily.
A tremor of desire moved over Holly. Mutely, she held out the aspirin and water.
He leaned forward, but not to take the aspirin. He eased the jacket off her shoulders until it settled around her elbows, softly binding her arms to her sides. Slowly, deliberately, he caressed her with tongue and teeth until she forgot to breathe.
Holly’s eyes glowed nearly gold as she looked down at the dark head bent over her breasts. She saw Linc’s tongue touch her, saw herself respond, saw him look up at her.
She knew her feelings must be as naked as his tongue and she didn’t care. Since she was eighteen, men had been telling her how gorgeous she was.
This was the first time she believed it, and Linc hadn’t said a word.
“You make me feel so beautiful,” Holly whispered.
Linc made a sound that could have been her name. Then he kissed her with a fierce possession that she met and matched. He rolled onto his back, pulling her with him until she lay half across him.
His hands kneaded down her back to her hips, silently demanding another kind of caress. She molded to him, stretching against his hard body, feeling weak and strong at the same time. The blunt length of his arousal startled her. Then it made her even more hungry to blend her body with his.
The repeated neighing of Linc’s horse finally penetrated Holly’s sensual daze, and his. The unhappy sounds told both of them that the horse was working itself into a frenzy.
Reluctantly Holly shifted her weight and began a slow slide off Linc’s body.
“Hold still,” he said urgently.
He pressed her face between his hands and fought to control his breathing. After a few moments, he succeeded.
“Holly North,” he said through his teeth, “you are the only thing on God’s earth that could make me forget to take care of my horse. You’re dangerous, woman.”
“Me?”
She sat up slowly. She tried to laugh, but her breath kept catching in her throat.
“If I’m dangerous,” she said, “you’re outright lethal.”
Linc admired the flush spreading up from Holly’s breasts and her eyes brilliant with desire. He leaned toward her.
“Let’s argue about it,” he suggested, teasing her with his tongue. “Two falls out of three?”
The horse neighed again. It was a shrill, frightened sound.
“Damn!” groaned Linc.
“I’ll check him while you take your aspirin.”
“What aspirin?” Linc asked innocently.
A startled look came over Holly’s face. She held her hands open in front of her, palms up.
No aspirin.
She looked at the rumpled sleeping bag that covered Linc like an oversized pair of pants. She quickly spotted one aspirin, caught in the same fold of cloth as the canteen. The second and third weren’t hard to find, but the fourth eluded her.
Linc washed down the three powdery pills with water from the canteen.
“Maybe the last aspirin is inside the sleeping bag,” he suggested with a slow smile.
“You look for it, then,” she retorted.
“It would be more fun if you did. Who knows what you’d find?”
Holly felt the heat of a blush and something more spread over her skin, yet she couldn’t help laughing at Linc’s outrageous teasing.
“I found the other pills at the top of the bag, not the bottom,” she pointed out.
“I was hoping you hadn’t noticed.” He laughed suddenly. “Bet I can find the fourth aspirin before you do.”
Holly turned to look behind her, assuming that he had spotted the pill on the tent floor. Then she felt his fingertips brush beneath her breast. Startled, she looked back.
In Linc’s hand was a white pill that looked a bit wilted around the edges.
Holly realized that the aspirin must have been caught beneath her breast, held to her body by the fine mist of desire that suffused her.
“An aspirin after my own hear
t,” Linc said, his voice rich with laughter and sensuality.
She shook her head in helpless embarrassment.
“I’ll get you another one,” she muttered.
His hand closed gently on her thigh, holding her in place.
“No,” he said softly. “I want this one.”
Linc’s eyes held Holly’s as he put the aspirin on his tongue. When the pill vanished behind his lips, it was as though he had taken part of her into himself.
He leaned forward, nuzzling under her breast, his tongue licking up the last of the fine powder that clung to her skin. Then his hand slid between her thighs, caressing upward until he cupped around her intimately. His palm moved in slow circular motions, savoring the special heat of her desire.
The wires of sensation that had been tightening in Holly exploded into a network of fire that raced from the pit of her stomach throughout her body. Her fingers dug convulsively into the hard muscles of Linc’s arms as she moaned.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
“Taking my medicine.”
Gently Linc bit the taut flesh of Holly’s stomach.
The horse neighed, a high, wild sound.
“Linc—”
“Yes, I hear him.”
Linc’s tongue moving across Holly’s navel, lingering, probing. He lifted his head with a groan as the horse’s cry ascended into a scream.
“Why did I have to raise horses?” he asked, his voice thick with passion and exasperation. “Why couldn’t I have chosen something nice and quiet?”
Holly laughed raggedly.
“Like plants?” she suggested.
“Like rocks.”
After a moment Linc’s hand slowly slid from between Holly’s legs. Even as he withdrew, he caressed her. She tried to bite back a sound of hunger and desire, but couldn’t.
“Don’t,” Linc whispered hoarsely. “When you make that sound I want to take off all your clothes and taste every bit of you until you scream.”
Suddenly he buried his face in the warmth that lay between Holly’s thighs.
The heat of his breath and the wild intimacy of his caress shocked Holly. She stiffened.
“Linc—”
When he saw her face, he swore silently at his own lack of control. Holly indeed must be as innocent as she looked.
“You’re right,” Linc said, slowly releasing her. “Sand Dancer sounds like he’s in trouble or planning to get that way real soon.”
Numbly she nodded.
But despite Holly’s shock, she was empty when Linc didn’t touch her. She wanted nothing more than to feel him pressed against her again, to hold him until the burning in her body consumed them both.
Then Holly sensed Linc’s eyes watching her and knew that her thoughts were as plain to him as if she had spoken them aloud.
Very carefully she eased her hands out of his hair, feeling each crisp lock sliding between her sensitive fingers. With hands that shook so much she was clumsy, she tucked in her jacket once more.
Linc didn’t offer to help her.
Holly didn’t ask.
Both knew that if he touched her again, he wouldn’t let her go.
Six
Moving quickly, Holly jammed her feet into her shoes and untied the tent flap. A bright triangle of sunlight swept into the tent, nearly blinding her.
Blinking, she turned back to Linc to ask if he was sure he was all right. Her mouth opened, but no words came out.
A single look at Linc and Holly forgot what she was going to ask.
He was reaching for his clothes. Sunlight poured over his skin, turning it into polished bronze. The dark hairs on his body burned like molten amber, shimmering and shifting with each move he made. Muscles coiled and shifted smoothly, powerfully, telling of a strength he accepted as casually as he accepted the number of fingers on his hands.
Then Linc turned onto his side and the sleeping bag fell off his hips, leaving him completely naked.
Distantly Holly thought that she should be embarrassed or appalled, but she was neither.
Linc’s male beauty transcended narrow definitions of right and wrong, wise and foolish, proper and improper.
When she finally looked up from his fully aroused body, she found herself caught and held by his eyes.
He had been watching her even as she watched him.
Slowly Linc smiled.
Holly’s heart turned over. Desire shivered visibly through her. She remembered how it had felt to be nearly naked in his arms, his breath hot against her body, his mouth separated from her softness by a single thickness of cloth.
“Come here, Holly.”
Linc’s voice was husky, as urgent as his aroused, vibrant flesh.
The Arabian neighed frantically, repeatedly.
With a harsh, frustrated sound, Holly turned and fled from the tent.
After the intimate twilight of the tent, the sun was almost overwhelming. Though the damp ground sent tendrils of vapor into the air, there were only a few puddles left. Once softened, the land drank water like a tawny sponge.
Holly pushed her way through clumps of brush. Branches shaken by her passage drenched her with water and the pungent smell of sage.
The Arabian stood with his head up, ears pricked forward until their tips almost touched. The tarp Holly had tied onto him last night had slipped to one side. Her blouse was still in place around the horse’s front legs, hobbling him.
The animal snorted as she approached. He watched her with dark, wary eyes.
Holly spoke in low, comforting tones. Her movements were the same, measured and reassuring.
“Good morning, Sand Dancer,” she said. “You look like a mess, what with your grubby white hobble and your pea-soup tarp. The twine doesn’t do much for the ensemble, either, does it?”
Sand Dancer snorted and stretched his nose toward the strange human.
Holly stood quietly while the horse whuffed over her, drinking her scent. After a minute the animal’s velvet nose bumped her gently, accepting her as a friend.
She rubbed the horse’s ears, admiring their expressive elegance.
Sand Dancer’s nose bumped Holly again, less gently.
“Friendly beast, aren’t you?” she said, laughing.
“Like his owner,” Linc said.
Startled, Holly turned and looked over her shoulder.
Linc was standing just out of reach. He wore no shirt because it had been shredded in his fall. His jeans were still wet.
They fitted his body the way Holly wanted to, an unbroken line of intimacy.
“Sand Dancer’s all right,” she said quickly. “Are you?”
Holly winced at the breathless, husky quality of her own voice. She might as well have shouted Linc’s effect on her.
His right eyebrow lifted in a wry arc.
“Cold wet shower, cold wet jeans,” he said. “Either one gets the job done. For a time.”
“I meant—” Holly felt herself blushing and groaned. “Good Lord, you have me acting like I’m nine again.”
“You must have been a very advanced nine,” Linc teased.
Her blush deepened.
He smiled and relented.
“My head aches,” he admitted. “My shoulder is stiff. My knee is tender.”
“Oh,” Holly said unhappily.
“Don’t look so stricken, honey. I’ve been hurt worse tripping over my own big feet.”
“Somehow I can’t see you as clumsy,” she said, shaking her head. “I’ve been jealous of the way you move since the first time I saw you.”
Linc looked surprised, but before he could say anything, Holly was talking again.
“And those eyelashes of yours,” she added. “My God. Do you have any idea just how devastating your coordination and thick lashes were to this nine-year-old? And you never even noticed me for seven years.”
“Don’t bet on it. The thoughts that crossed my mind after you were fourteen would have gotten me arrested.”
At
first Holly thought Link was joking.
The look in his eyes convinced her that he wasn’t.
“I wish you’d told me,” she whispered.
“Great,” he retorted. “You could have visited me in jail on alternate Thursdays.”
She laughed.
Dancer bumped her with his nose, demanding her attention.
“Duty calls,” Linc said.
“Looks more like a horse to me.”
Holly turned around and began to work on Sand Dancer.
Linc walked up behind her. He stood so close she could feel the heat of his body radiating through the back of her jacket.
“My hands are cold,” Linc lied. “Let me warm them on you.”
He rubbed his palms over Holly’s arms. Slowly he cupped her breasts. The nipples instantly hardened between his fingers.
She made an odd sound, surprise and passion combined.
With a soft curse he put his hands behind his back.
Holly went to work on the wet, knotted twine that held the tarp on Sand Dancer. The job was made worse because her fingers refused to stop trembling.
“I’m not to be trusted this morning,” Linc muttered. “Sorry.”
“Put your hands in your pockets,” Holly suggested.
“My hands won’t fit in my pockets,” he admitted wryly.
His hands eased into the front pockets of her jeans.
“Can I use yours?” he asked.
Inside Holly’s pockets, his hands moved in sensual rhythms.
“Linc,” she said raggedly, feeling herself melt with each touch. “Linc . . .”
He shuddered and pulled his hands out of her pockets.
“The things you do to my self-control,” Linc said ruefully. “I thought I was long past the age when I couldn’t keep my hands to myself.”
Holly turned toward him.
“I wasn’t complaining,” she said.
“I know. We’ll make a deal, though. I won’t touch you until poor Sand Dancer is taken care of.”
Holly thought of all the tight little knots and wondered if she could last that long.
“Shake on it?” Linc asked, holding out his hand.
At the same moment they both realized that he was waiting to feel the warmth of her hand sliding across his palm.
Quickly Linc dropped his hand.
“I’ll take your word for it,” he said. “Safer that way. Not as much fun, but safer.”
Desert Rain with Bonus Material Page 5
