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Cloudcastle

Page 32

by Nan Ryan


  As she spoke she looked unwaveringly into his eyes, letting Kane read the sincerity and truthfulness of her words. Open and honest, she said if there was anything he wanted to know about her, he need only ask.

  She could tell that the man of stone was quickly softening, though not yet had he said he loved her, despite her telling him repeatedly that she was in love with him, loved him more than ever she'd loved a man. She was unworried that Kane had not spoken of love. The words would come in time.

  They sat at the table, remnants of a half-eaten supper before them. They had talked for so long, the coffee was cold in their cups, snifters of brandy emptied. And Natalie, her eyes on the raw bruise circling Kane's brown throat, said softly, "Kane, it's time you went to bed. You need some sleep."

  Kane's dark hand reached across the table and closed over hers. He smiled and said, "It isn't sleep I need."

  "What are we waiting for?" said Natalie, and started to rise. "Stay where you are," ordered Kane gently.

  She didn't question him. She remained seated while Kane, wearing only a pair of tight trousers, got up and moved about the room lighting every lamp and candle he could find. He left none darkened. All were illuminated and soon the spacious room was filled with far-reaching yellow-white light. No corner remained in shadow. Everywhere was light; bright, radiant light.

  Kane returned to the table and offered Natalie his hand.

  She took it and stood, looking questioningly up at him. He smiled down at her. "We made hurried love in the darkness. Let's make unhurried love in the light."

  "Kane," she murmured happily, and threw her arms around his neck.

  "I like the way you say my name," he told her as he picked her up and held her high in his arms, against his bare chest. He kissed her, and said against her mouth, "I'll be tender, sweetheart. I'll make it up to you."

  Natalie couldn't answer. She buried her face in the warm curve of his neck and shoulder and felt him moving gracefully across the floor. At the bed he stood with her in his arms for a moment, and against her hair he told her his intention. "I'm going to undress you now. I want to take down your beautiful hair. Allow me these pleasures, sweetheart. Will you do that?"

  Her breath already coming quickly, she managed, "Yes, Kane, yes."

  Slowly he released her, lowering her bare feet to the floor. He took a step backward and let his blue, appreciative gaze slide slowly over her. Over her doeskin trousers she wore a dark shirt of shimmering silk that he had loaned her. His lean hands went to the pearl buttons going down the shirt's front. Languidly he released buttons from buttonholes, his gaze holding hers.

  Natalie's breath caught when finally all of the buttons were undone. She expected Kane to swiftly push the silk shirt from her shoulders. He did not; his hands lifted up to her hair. Gently he removed the pins holding the hastily wound knot of red curls atop her head. Natalie watched his eyes. An expression of awe filled them when the tangled mass came spilling down about her shoulders.

  Transfixed, he put his hands into the flowing hair and combed his long fingers reverently through it, murmuring hoarsely, "Such hair. I see this flaming hair in my dreams."

  Natalie swallowed and her hands lifted to Kane's trim waist. "You'll help me wash it again sometime?"

  "Always," he breathed and Natalie's head rejoiced.

  Hands still entwined in her hair, Kane leaned down to her. Their mouths came together in a slow, tender kiss and he gently drew her against him. His lips were soft and warm and undemanding. And when they left hers, he smiled down at her, his eyes as tender as his lips.

  He pressed her close to his tall frame and said, just above her ear, "I've a fantasy, sweetheart. Shall I tell you?" Lips resting on his warm, rope-punished throat, she said, "I insist."

  "You are naked to the waist. Your beautiful red hair is long and loose, as it is now. I part it in the back, draw it over your shoulders and breasts." Kane paused, slid his hands out of the hair and locked them behind her back. "Then I search through all that silky red hair for rosy nipples." He grinned and added, "With my mouth."

  Natalie shivered. "Let's five your fantasy," she murmured in a soft, seductive voice.

  Then her breath grew heavy when Kane, releasing her, put his hands to the front of her shirt. Slowly, sensuously he parted it, exposing her flesh to his eyes. Her full, trembling breasts blossomed beneath his gaze and ached for his touch.

  The soft silk shut slid down her arms and off Kane drew in a breath and touched her cheek. "You're beautiful." He kissed the corner of her mouth. "I'm glad. And I'm glad you're here with me."

  "I am too," she breathed. "I love you, Kane."

  Kane took her arm and gently turned her around. He stood behind her, and Natalie, heartbeat erratic, fingers curling into fists, felt the light touch of his hands once more on her hair. Expertly he parted the tousled mane down the middle at the back of her head. Then carefully placed equal portions over each bare shoulder.

  The silky hair tickled and teased Natalie's bare, sensitive breasts. Her eyes lowered, and to her surprise the tingling nipples were completely hidden beneath thick, heavy locks of hair. She felt Kane's warm hands cup her shoulders.

  He pulled her back against his tall, lean frame and wrapped long arms around her, crossing them over her chest, above the hair-covered breasts. Her nervous hands moved backward to clutch at his hard, trousered thighs. "Kane," she whispered breathlessly, "I so want to please you." His lips pressed the side of her temple. "No one has ever pleased me more." His arms fell away. "Turn around, sweetheart."

  Natalie exhaled and slowly pivoted. His erotic eyes were on the two thick portions of long red-gold hair draped over her shoulders. His hands enclosed her narrow waist and Kane bent his dark head. He lowered his face even as Natalie came up onto her tiptoes. And she found Kane's fantasy as provocative as he did.

  Nose and mouth nuzzling amid the auburn tresses, Kane made a delightfully arousing game of locating Natalie's tensely waiting nipples. When he uncovered the left one, she sighed with pleasure. He pressed a warm, moist kiss to the pink satin bud and went in search of the other. When both were unveiled and worshipfully caressed, their crests peeking proudly out of the cascading hair, Kane raised his dark head and enfolded Natalie gently in his arms.

  "My God, you're sweet, so sweet," he said, holding her close, feeling the hard nipples brushing his naked chest. "Can I hold you on my knee for a minute?" Natalie inhaled deeply, loving the masculine scent of him. "Forever."

  Kane dropped down onto the bed's edge and pulled Natalie forward to stand between his bent knees. Teasingly blowing his warm breath on the pale breasts before his face, he went about the task of unbuttoning Natalie's tight trousers. It took a while. With each button he released, with each inch of flesh he bared, he paused to place a kiss on the area he had exposed.

  By the time the soft doeskin pants were sliding down her quivering thighs, Natalie's slender, naked body was afire from the top of her flaming head to the tips of her toes.

  Dizzy with desire, Natalie clung to Kane's wide, bare shoulders and swayed helplessly to him. She closed her eyes as Kane seated her on his left knee, an arm around her. His fingers brushed her chin, traded over the curve of her throat to her shoulder. Natalie opened her eyes.

  "There are so many things I want to do with you; so many ways I want to love you," Kane told her. As he spoke his hand moved over the contours of her throat and down to a shimmering white breast. He covered it with his brown hand, squeezed it gently, then began to rub the taut nipple with a feather-light touch of his thumb.

  That arousing hand moved down to her stomach. The lean fingers spread there and stroked her tight, flat belly, brushed the smooth skin of her thighs, and came to rest on the flaming red triangle. "Sweetheart, sweetheart," he murmured softly.

  Natalie felt herself being borne backward onto the big bed. Kane's mouth was on hers, kissing her tenderly, warmly, over and over again. Weight supported on an elbow, he lay stretched out beside her, his lips
toying with hers, tongue doing sweet, lovely things to her tingling mouth.

  Natalie lay on her back, glorying in the unhurried way he was loving her. She was glad he'd insisted on the lights. She liked lying stretched out before him, totally naked and open, offering herself for his intense scrutiny. She experienced a delicious sense of vain power over this man so eagerly paying homage to her. His eyes told her he thought her beautiful; his hands and his lips told her more.

  Serenely nude, Natalie stretched and sighed and clasped her arms around Kane's neck while he continued to kiss her with restrained passion and devastating tenderness. Natalie gave a soft little whimper of pleasure when that warm, wonderful mouth finally left her swelling lips and went to her throat.

  Nudging aside the shiny golden disc gleaming at her throat, Kane unhurriedly, tenderly, kissed her throat, her ears, her shoulders. He kissed the undercurve of her breasts, he pressed the gentlest of kisses to the aching crests. He kissed her stomach. Soft, butterfly kisses that made her lift and sigh and want more, much more.

  "Remember how I loved you at Spanish Widow?" Kane's voice was low, raspy. He lifted his dark head and looked at her. Her eyes met his. "I remember." She felt the hot blood race through her veins. "Love me that way again, Kane."

  "My sweet baby," said Kane, and changed positions. Still wearing his tight pants, Kane lay between her parted legs, his lips brushing kisses to her navel, her hipbones, the pale insides of her thighs.

  Natalie waited, her eyes opening and closing, her curled fingers gripping the mattress beneath her. Kane made her wait; prolonging her pleasure, loving her tenderly, sweetly, until she was breathlessly calling his name.

  When Kane leaned down and nuzzled his nose in the tight triangle of auburn curls, Natalie's back arched. "You tasted so good that night. I've been starved for you ever since," said Kane, and then he lowered his face and he kissed her.

  "Kane… please…"

  "Yes, my love, yes," Kane soothed, and Natalie squirmed and moaned as he sank his dark head, as eagerly as a thirsty man bending to drink, and pressed his burning lips to her. He buried his face in her and she put her fingers into his thick, black hair and pulled him to her. He kissed her, stroked her with his tongue, while his hands grasped her bare bottom and held her up to him.

  Natalie had no idea that loud gasps and moans were tearing from her tight throat. She knew only that the dark, handsome head between her burning thighs was giving her the most frightening, exquisite pleasure she had ever known and that she wanted to keep him there… kissing her caressing her… loving her forever.

  She would never release him, never let him up. Would not allow him to take his lips from her flesh. Would command him to remain where he was until she… she…

  "Ka—Kane…" she sobbed as the contractions in her belly became violent and her deep, shuddering climax began.

  Kane's loving mouth stayed fused to her until total, draining ecstasy was attained and Natalie lay back, tears of joy filling her huge eyes, slender body limp. Only then did Kane lift his head. Lithely, he slid up beside her, gathered her into his arms, and whispered, "There, honey. You're okay, I've got you." She lay silent for a long time, clinging to her lover, pressing her bare, warm body to his. At last she softly said, "Kane."

  "Yes, baby?"

  "Don't ever do that to me again." But she was smiling, a catlike, satisfied smile. "I won't," he promised, kissing her damp forehead. "At least not before tomorrow."

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Kane held her until she was totally calm. Then he eased her down onto the pillows, gave her eyelids a kiss, and spread the fur covers up over her damp, naked curves.

  "Where are you going?" she questioned drowsily when he rose from the bed. "Don't leave me."

  "Never, sweet," assured Kane, "I'm only going to douse some of these lights so we can sleep."

  "Mmm," she mumbled contentedly, and watched from beneath droopy lids her tall, dark, godlike lover move about the room like a mountain cat, easy and smooth and remarkably graceful. Muscles flowing beneath swarthy, satin skin.

  Natalie felt a delicious surge of possessive pride. This magnificent man whose rock-hard muscles rippled with each lift of his long arm was hers. All hers. This man of mystery whose tight trousers revealed the powerful sinew of his thighs and lean buttocks had just made intimate, exquisite love to her.

  Natalie sighed happily and her sleepy but fond gaze slipped downward from Kane's furred chest to his groin. She bit her lip. She was so tired, so sleepy, so fulfilled, she felt as though she couldn't possibly make love again. Not even with Kane. Yet she knew it was unfair and selfish to leave him in this unsated state.

  Eyes still following his every move, she watched Kane extinguish the last of the brightly burning lamps. He returned to the bed carrying a tall new white candle, freshly lit. He set it on the night table and, looking directly at Natalie, unbuttoned his tight trousers and sent them to the carpeted floor.

  He stood there proudly naked, the shadowy candlelight softly licking at his tall, bare body and his fully aroused, thrusting masculinity. He didn't make a move until Natalie's gaze finally lifted from his groin and came up to meet his burning blue eyes.

  Kane got into bed with her, gathered her into his arms, and whispered, "Good night, Natalie. Sleep well." But before she could answer him, his lips, soft and moist, covered hers and his fingers had encircled her fragile wrist and carried her hand down, to his throbbing erection. He gently guided her, letting his fingers cover hers, sliding hers, with his on them, up and down slowly, provocatively, over his engorged flesh while his mouth remained melded with hers.

  To Natalie's surprised delight, she felt her sleepy lassitude slipping rapidly away. She never knew when Kane's instructive hand left hers. She knew only that her caressing fingers, gliding easily, rhythmically on his rigid shaft, were eliciting moans of pleasure from deep inside his naked chest. And enkindling a slow-burning fire within her.

  Kane's lips left hers and he laid his dark head back on the pillow. And Natalie did just what he'd hoped she might do. She slipped up onto an elbow—embracing hand never leaving him—and leaned over his face, her long russet hair falling into his eyes, across his throat.

  He felt the fluttering tip of her moist tongue against his open lips and sighed while shivers of expectant ecstasy coursed throughout his hot, tensed body. With a nimble toe, Kane kicked at the fur counterpane. Natalie sensed his wish to be uncovered, and lent a hand. Or a toe. Lips and tongue still playing with his heated mouth, hand still full of pulsing maleness, she kicked vigorously at the covers and felt them sliding away.

  Kane sighed anew when sheet and heavy fur coverlet rested at the foot of the bed. And he sighed yet again when Natalie, finally taking her sweet, teasing lips from his burning mouth, tossed her heavy hair out of her eyes and let her curious gaze slide downward.

  "Kane," she whispered breathlessly, her heavily lashed emerald eyes shamelessly observing what she was doing to him, "does that feel good?"

  "Oh, Jesus, honey," groaned Kane expressively. "Too good, I can't take it anymore."

  With that he snatched her hand from him, kissed it gratefully, and eased her onto her back. And when he moved anxiously over her and thrust into her waiting warmth, he asked, "Natalie, does that feel good?"

  "Oh, Jesus, honey."

  They slept like two innocent children. Come morning, Natalie was awakened by bright Colorado sunshine streaming in the tall, uncurtained windows. She lay quietly, unmoving, while Kane continued to slumber peacefully. Backed up spoon-fashion against him, his long arms wrapped tightly around her, Natalie listened to his deep, even breathing and smiled contentedly. If she had her way, this is how she would greet each new morning for the rest of her days.

  Natalie inhaled and let her lazy gaze follow a drop of water making its slow, steady descent down the crystal pane of the tall north window. Her eyes lifted. From eaves of the cabin's roof, long spiky icicles were dripping. Melting.

  Natalie c
autiously lifted her head from the pillow and looked across the room. He fire in the grate was nothing but blackened ash and yet, naked though she and Kane were, covers at the bed's foot, she was not cold. Kane long, protective body pressed to hers gave warmth, but it was more than that.

  Natalie lowered her head back to the pillow. The weather had taken a great turn, no doubt about it. The Chinook winds had obviously come through in the night, blowing their hot breath across the snow-gripped San Juans.

  Natalie felt a sudden surge of panic.

  It was December 12. The day of the twelfth full moon. Tahomah had said that with the passing of noon on this date, she would no longer need to guard the Manitou gold.

  Natalie felt her heart begin to pound. What had he meant? What was to happen before noon?

  An icy fear began to spread through her bare body as she recalled Kane's low, determined words spoken sometime in the long, love-filled night. "Tomorrow I'm going to the Cliff Palace, Natalie. I'll kill two birds with one stone."

  "I don't understand," she had whispered fearfully.

  "Ashlin will come, I'm sure of it. And when he does, I'll—"

  "No, Kane, please!"

  "When I've dealt with him, I'll take the gold."

  "You've heard nothing I've said, Kane. I told you that Tahomah has warned against it!" Natalie sought to make him understand, to believe. "The shaman can determine the origin of ill fortune and can safeguard a man's future if he will only—"

  "Ah, Natalie, you're so sweet, and you're far too intelligent to believe in Indian superstitions."

  Natalie, sick with worry, lay now in the arms of her sleeping lover and believed with all her heart that to keep this dear man safe, she had to keep him away from the Cliff Palace. At least until noon passed.

  Kane was right; Ashlin would show up there, eager and greedy for the gold. And if the pair met… Why did it have to warm up? Why couldn't another blinding blizzard have roared over the mountains making travel impossible and keeping her precious love safe here in this mountain hideaway with her. If only they were cut off from town, as they had been the week before, and Ashlin couldn't come here. If only she could persuade Kane to see the sheriff and let him. take care of the murderers. If only…

 

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