Nothing would be enough.
He needed more. Much more. He needed to bury his flesh so deeply into hers that there wasn’t two, but one.
He felt her move to push aside the blanket. He knew what she wanted with every restless toss of her head, every twisting curve of her body, every ragged-sounding cry. The same thing he wanted. To be covered in a blanket of fire that burned all the way to the bone.
Kee lifted slightly and shifted his body to cover hers. Damp, silken skin cradled his body. She moved beneath him with a hungry twist that inflamed him.
“Sweet, sweet lady, you’re going to be the death of me.”
“Yes,” she cried out. “I feel like I am dying.”
“No, lovely, not dying. It’s a passionate woman being born.” A broken groan escaped his lips when he felt her nipples nuzzle through the dark mat of chest hair until they pressed against his skin. He tried telling himself she wasn’t ready, that she needed more time, more kisses and caresses, but her plea cut him off.
The weight of his hips settled between her legs, opening them. He arched against the hidden core of passion and brought forth a wild cry.
The scent of her arousal drove him crazy, as did her frantic nails biting into his arms.
He tried to speak and couldn’t. She had stolen his breath. He braced his weight on his elbows and placed a scalding string of kisses from her mouth to the raven black curls that were softer than down.
He barely heard the way her breath caught and then held when his palm curved over her thigh, kneading from there to her hip and back again until she parted her legs. He caressed the tight curls, seeking and finding silken heat that was moist and smooth as velvet.
Her eyes closed and she bit her bottom lip, rocking her body with each gliding motion of his fingers that made her tremble with the violence of the storm overtaking her.
Every bit of shyness had burned away with each more intimate touch. She did not dare open her eyes for the world was spinning out of control. She knew that Kee was there with her, that he would keep her safe, and bring an end to the ceaseless need that ached. She forgot any desire to protect her vulnerable self. Kee had given her what she wanted, a fever that would shatter her at any moment.
She lifted her hips, her arms reaching for him, both a silent demand that he do something to release the coiling knot that held her in its grip.
She cried out his name for the tension seemed to coil tighter, then tighter still.
He felt her come apart for him. Sweet, liquid heat from within the softness that no man had ever touched. He heard her cry and before he could ask if it was pain or pleasure, she shivered and opened to him, yielding to the sensual storm that consumed her. He had never wanted anything so much as to join his flesh with hers in that one scalding, endless moment when pleasure melted her.
And he was afraid he would hurt her if he did.
He rose up to kiss her with swift, hot reassurance. “It’s all right, lovely,” he whispered, biting her lip softly. “I told you your body would tell me all I needed to know. You’re almost where I am. Trust me?”
“Always, Kee. I—Where are you?”
He almost smiled, but it was beyond him. “High on the mountain, sweet lady. Getting ready to fly.”
“I want—I want to be there with you. Take me, Kee. Take me there.”
Kee made a hoarse sound, and clenched his teeth. Release coiled tighter than a whip, savaging him, raging to be free. His hand smoothed down the side of her body bringing visible shivers of response from her.
“Once more, just once more, lovely. Share with me. Let me make this easier for you. And me. For both of us.”
Once more. Once more the fever swept over her, building and building; each circular caress made her moan until the passion was beyond her and shimmering heat swept through her. Once more. And again.
“Kee!”
“Yes!” he whispered, biting her neck with barely held restraint, soothing the tiny marks he made with his tongue. He settled his weight slowly between her trembling thighs, easing them apart even more to make room for his big body.
“So beautiful.” It was all he could manage to say. She was sleek and hot against him and he teased her with flesh that was as hot but hard where she was incredibly soft.
Her nails scored his skin as she yielded to him.
Again he caught her earlobe and bit her, sending fire streaking through her. She arched her hips, easing his way as he filled her slowly, moving very gently by soft increments, retreating then advancing again. Afraid of hurting her, he fisted his hands over the blanket when all he wanted to do was put his hands on her hips and thrust into her, burying himself completely and ending this torment.
But the pleasure that filled her eyes as she watched him forced back his own fever and need.
“I want you,” she whispered, offering her lips as she offered her body. Completely, nothing held back.
“Gently, love, gently.”
But Isabel shook her head. She did not want his gentleness now. She could feel the power of the storm that shook him, she knew its power over her own body. And it was a wild, untamed thing that sent exquisite lightning through her.
She followed him when he retreated, making a silent demand. Her softness strained against him, begging him to end the last barrier between them.
And when the sweet heated shattering came again, he thrust once, smoothly, holding still as she cried out.
He barely managed to throttle a groan when she rocked her hips against his. He sank deeper, drinking her cry, as her legs tightened and she urged him with frantic touches, and lips that kissed whatever part of him she could reach to lose every bit of control. He reared back and she twisted up to meet him and the rain-swept night came apart around him in deep, wrenching pulses that left him shaking, fighting for breath.
Her body shivered in response, ecstasy flowing through her, fever burning in bursting pleasure so great she thought she would die. She clung to Kee, passion coiling once more and he held her tight, endless need surrounding them as the night burned its way to dawn.
Chapter Nineteen
Isabel awoke in a cocoon of warmth. She did not move as her eyes opened, confirming what she had sensed. Kee was no longer with her. A folded blanket had replaced the pillow of his shoulder. She rubbed her cheek against the wool, for the moment the scent of their lovemaking blocked that of burning wood mingling with those of bacon frying and coffee perking. There was something else, too, but she could not place it. Not that it mattered. If it was not Kee, she did not want to know.
She stretched very slowly, feeling every small ache. Memory flooded her of Kee bathed by fire while he kept his promise to bathe her as no lady’s maid ever could. A deep blush spread from the inside out of her naked body as she remembered those heated minutes and the shimmering moments that followed. Kee’s body moving over hers, his mouth as hungry as her own, eager to reclaim the golden fire they built together. And there was that one magical moment when she thought she was dying, that the pleasure they shared was too much, too hot, too intense, and she could bear no more.
It was then that Kee showed her how wild the storm could be. Wild, sweet ecstasy breaking around them, consuming them with its blaze and glory.
She closed her eyes, squeezing them tight to stop the sudden well of tears. She had given Kee more than he had asked for, much more than physical innocence.
With surprising clarity the moment came back to her, their gazes enjoined as were their bodies, her lips forming the word, calling him the name of what overflowed her heart. And with painful clarity she remembered his cherishing kiss, the height they had reached for and found that stripped reality and left a soaring freedom born of flames.
And she remembered the silence afterward. She remembered that most of all.
They had mated, more perfectly than any dream. The two of them joining into a union of one, renewing the cycle of life. Her hand slipped to the slight curve of her belly. The enormity of what sh
e had done without the blessings and vows settled like a leaden weight. She did not know if it was a devil’s curse or the Lord’s wish, but the women in her family bore few living children. She prayed and made a vow. If she was blessed with a child from sharing herself in love with this one man, no one would ever take that child from her. And she would never burden Kee with her love. That was her secret to keep.
Kee, standing in shadow, watched her awaken, but she made no move to look for him. Nor did he make a sound. For some reason he thought back to his first meeting with Jessie, when Logan forgot to tell her that he and Marty were invited for supper. He had gone hunting, snaring two rabbits to bring as their share, just like his ma had taught him to do when visiting.
But when he had sneaked a peek in the window, Logan had been all over Jessie like flies on honey, kissing her senseless. Forgetting everything but the woman in his arms. Just as he himself had done last night. He even remembered telling Marty it was a game of slap and tickle, and Logan had threatened to wash out his mouth with lye soap. Just a game…but games had a winner and a loser.
What devil had taken hold of him last night?
He had stolen her innocence after he swore she could trust him. He was no better than a loose-in-the-rump parrish stallion. And Isabel deserved better from him.
He knew about love, he had an abundance of it for his adopted family, even his oldest niece, Reina, who had started everyone calling him a hero. But it could not be love he felt for Isabel. Love took time to grow between two people. And yet…
No!
He wasn’t some wet-behind-the-ears kid to be led down that particular trail.
Isabel was a forever kind of woman, and he, he was a here today and gone tomorrow kind of man.
And he liked that just fine.
But he had to make some gesture. He knew all the right words to say. Just took a little belly-crawling to get them out.
Trying hard to fan the flames of anger when only hours before the flames had come from the incredible passion that blazed between them, wasn’t working. He couldn’t stop the rapid-fire images of Isabel coming apart around him. Her eyes, a deep indigo blackness that drew him back time and again as if he could never have enough of her. Her mouth, that sweet reddened mouth, swollen from his kisses, whispering to him, exciting him all over again…Isabel, a woman…his woman.
He slammed that mental door with a ruthlessness he’d never had to use. She played hell with every one of his good intentions.
He looked up and saw her, sitting there with the blanket clutched in one hand to cover her, a sleepy smile in her eyes, a deeper one curving the generous shape of her lips.
“Kee?”
Just that whisper of his name chased away everything he wanted to say, everything he had thought right out of his head.
She gestured toward the rope he had used as a makeshift line. “You washed my clothes.”
“Don’t sound so surprised. A man on the trail has to do for himself. You couldn’t wear them covered in dried mud. You needed to sleep.” His voice was husky and he remained near the shadowed opening. “Your breakfast is ready. The morning’s half gone. We should ride out.” The tilt of her head told him she was puzzled by his obvious reluctance to come closer to her. She could not know that he didn’t trust himself within three feet of her. He’d most likely kiss her good-morning until dusk blanketed the land once more.
“You should have awakened me.” The smile was gone and the tone decidedly cool. Whatever she hoped for, whatever she dreamed, it wasn’t to face this mistrustful stranger after last night.
“There’s lots of things I should’ve and shouldn’t have done. Just lay one more at my door.”
She was closer to the fire, so he saw the flare of hurt in her eyes before she turned away. His curses were vicious, silent and all directed at himself.
“Isabel, I—”
“Would you give me some privacy to dress? I will hurry. I know how impatient you are.”
“Is that what I was with you? Impatient?”
“Now?”
“No, not now, Isabel. You know damn well I’m not talking about now.”
“Kincaid, obviously you should have one more thing at your door. You should have slept. I have no desire to continue this insane conversation. Leave me.” Her voice broke, and she closed her eyes, bowing her head until the tangle of her hair covered her from his eyes. “Please, Kee, just go. I will hurry.”
“Isabel, I never made you any promises. But for what it’s worth—”
“Will you get out!” she screamed. If there had been anything near enough to throw at him she would have, and done it with pleasure. She could have shot him right then. No, shooting was too good for him. She would stake him out on an anthill and ride away.
The moment he was gone she scrambled to the fire, and sat there, bewildered by what she found. He had made two bark containers, one filled with steaming water, the other filled with rainwater. On his clean neckerchief was a pile of soapberries, the kind Indians crushed for soap. But she wept when she saw the brilliant scarlet candle flower. She lifted the showy flower to her cheek and closed her eyes. He could not have slept at all. He had done all this for her. Care and kindness, food and warmth and a bit of beauty for the eyes and soul.
“Kee, oh, Kee, what a foolish woman I am to need your words.”
Sometimes words were not very good when the deepest of feelings were involved. Isabel kept telling herself this when he first brushed aside her attempt to apologize, and thank him for his thoughtfulness, and later, when they rode out toward what was now called Weaver’s Needle, and his silence became as high as Iron Mountain between them.
It was painful for her to ride. She did not utter one sound of complaint. She saw how carefully Kee picked their way through this eruption of mountains and ridges and the canyons that drained into the Gila River to the south and north to the Salt River. The desertlike land heated beneath the afternoon sun, a wind from the south bringing with it a dust that coated everything.
When a particularly strong gust left her coughing, Kee rode alongside her, blocking her from the wind as much as he could.
“If this keeps up, we may have to break and camp early.”
They were the first words he had spoken to her since this morning, and all she could do was nod. She had used his neckerchief to tie down her hat, now she wished she had it to cover her mouth and nose. They were riding a twisting path through aged, wind-distorted cottonwoods. The air, she could see, was beginning to shimmer with a strange pinkish light as the dust storm increased in power.
Isabel looked at Kee and as he was watching her, she saw worry in his eyes. The blast of wind swirled sand around them and for a moment she lost sight of him.
She screamed his name just as his strong arm wrapped around her waist. With a strength she envied, he lifted her and swept her onto his horse.
“There’s not much cover,” he yelled to be heard over the rising wind. “We’ll try for those boulders.”
She could do nothing to protect him as the sand whipped and stung them through their clothes.
The boulders formed a rough three-sided shelter. Kee lifted her down, quickly untying his bedroll and tossing the blanket to her. “Get under that. I’ll see to the horses.”
He was back in minutes with the canteens, but she had counted every second that he was out of her sight.
Only her eyes showed in the slight opening she had left when she wrapped the blanket around her. It was just enough to see that Kee sat in front of her, quickly covering himself with the other blanket. There was plenty of room beside her, but where he sat, he shielded her from the worst of the storm.
“Kee, how bad is it?”
“Won’t last more than a few hours. Then I’ve known them to last out the night. But no more than that. Try to sleep.”
The wind’s fury increased to a ceaseless shriek, but the boulders partly protected them from the swirling sand.
Isabel huddled under the sti
fling wool blanket. And she waited. His continued silence began to unnerve her. Her emotions had already been strained to the breaking point. She hugged her knees and tried to find a comfortable place. The rock poked her no matter which way she turned. A quick peek showed that Kee sat as still as the very stone of this land.
She bit her lip, vowing she could maintain the same cool indifference. But she was not happy about it.
The minutes slipped by slowly. She felt that the silence between them was louder than the storm. Edgy, growing more tense by the moment, she barely stifled a gasp when she felt his hand on her shoulder.
“Lie down facing me, Isabel. The wind’s changed. And keep your head covered or you’ll cough up dust for a month of Sundays.”
She flattened her body as much as she could against the stone to make room for him.
Kee wedged himself into one corner of the rocks, sitting up so he could tent his blanket over both of them. He saw that she watched him, and he nodded, his lips and throat too dry to speak. He offered her the canteen.
“Just a little,” he whispered in a hoarse voice.
Isabel lifted the canteen to her lips and just held it there for a few moments. Even warm, the moisture she finally let trickle into her mouth was soothing to the dry tissue. Another sip and she handed the canteen back to him. She watched the spare sip he took of the water.
“Drink, Kee. That was not enough for you.” She saw the fine coating of dust on his face and hurried to untie his neckerchief. It was awkward moving under the weight of the blanket. She could barely take a breath without touching some part of him. After last night, it was ridiculous to shy away. But his withdrawal made her do just that. She took the canteen from him, very careful not to touch him, and moistened the cloth. Her gaze pinned to his square jaw, she was afraid to see what she might read in his eyes.
“I did not intend to…oh, it will be better if you use this to wipe the dust from your face.”
With one hand he took the cloth, and the other caught her chin. He held her still when she tried to turn aside, and used his wet neckerchief to wipe her skin free of dust. He left a smudge on her cheek and before he could stop himself he bent down to kiss the spot.
Once a Hero Page 17
