She tried to take a step, lost her balance and swung into him, hip to hip and chest to chest. Her face had regained its healthy color, and her lips were as inviting as they had been when he’d first met her. She laughed.
“I never was much of an athlete,” she said. “And I don’t suppose I’ll become one now.”
Afraid to let her go, Timon supported her around her waist. Her breasts felt firm and round, her body supple under his arm. She pressed her face into his neck and sighed.
“You’re so warm,” she said. “Are all Darketans as warm as you are?”
“It’s my human half,” he said, holding himself very still.
“You smell like horses.”
Timon tried to maneuver her away from him without hurting her. “I’m sorry,” he said. “You should sit down, so that I can check the leg again.”
“Do you think I’m afraid of you now?” she asked, raising her head, her lips nearly touching his.
Her embrace was more than enough to bring his body to full alert. But she wasn’t thinking clearly. And she wasn’t in good enough physical condition to—
Jamie kissed him.
Chapter 10
For a moment Jamie felt Timon respond to her kiss; his lips firm and demanding, his arm tightening around her waist. She could feel the hardness of his erection against her, and she knew without a doubt that he wanted her.
But then he pulled his head back and lifted her away from him, setting her down gently against the tree. He unwrapped her bandages and examined the wound on both sides of her thigh. She could see that there was a slight divot in the front where there had been an ugly hole, the flesh pink and healthy, with only a little clear drainage.
“We’ll be able to move sooner than I thought,” Timon said, replacing the bandage.
She gazed at him steadily. “If you’re trying to distract me, it won’t work.”
“You don’t know what you’re doing, Jamie,” he said in an unconvincingly level voice. “Sometimes, after we come close to death—”
“Don’t lie to yourself,” she said, lifting her chin. “Do you think I can’t tell you feel the same?”
Timon didn’t look away. Jamie knew he was too honest to deny what she spoke the truth, but he didn’t reply.
“One or both of us could die tomorrow,” she said. “I know now what it is to feel life slipping away, to realize there are a million things I haven’t experienced.”
“You’re barely functioning now,” he said, touching her hair. “Jamie, we can’t rush into something...”
“Why not? Is it because I’m not like those other women? Because I’m a virgin?”
She felt only a little embarrassed at speaking so plainly, but Timon actually blushed. “Cahill—” he began.
“The only thing between Greg and me is what he imagines,” she said. She ran her fingers across Timon’s cheek. “You and I both know what’s been happening between us from the beginning. It’s just that I had trouble acknowledging it, and I was afraid of these...things I hadn’t felt before.”
“You mean sex,” he said bluntly, startling her.
But she was grateful for that bluntness. “Of course. I may be inexperienced, but I can recognize sexual attraction. I may need a little help—”
“Help?” he said with a short laugh. “You seem to be doing well enough so far.”
“I’m no seductress. But you don’t need games, do you?”
Abruptly he pulled her against him again, a storm brewing in his eyes. “Jamie, that raider who captured you just before I and my men arrived—”
“Is nothing like you. Whatever he might have done has no bearing on what you and I do together.” She hesitated. “If it’s pregnancy you’re worried about, I had that taken care of before we left the Enclave.”
“Is this so clinical to you?”
Jamie kissed him again. He reacted just as she would have hoped, with an added dose of suppressed ferocity.
“I told you,” he said, his breath coming hard. “We don’t become involved with the people we protect.”
“I’m not asking anything of you but the chance to give each other pleasure,” she said.
“As part of your thanks?”
She reached down with her good hand and cupped his groin. “Do you want this to stand between us for the weeks we’ll be together on the trail? Do you think it’ll just go away, Timon?”
He stared at her, searching her face, her eyes, looking for hesitation or doubt. Jamie knew he wouldn’t find it. And he knew it, too.
“Teach me, Timon,” she whispered.
Taking her in his arms again, he lowered her to the ground and laid her on the blanket. Without a word he braced his arms on either side of her shoulders, leaned over her and kissed her.
This was not like the first kisses. It was much deeper, with that leashed ferocity, but also the tenderness she had felt in him before. His tongue ran along the inside of her lips, and a rush of warmth gathered between her thighs.
A normal response, she thought. But then she wasn’t thinking about anything but the kiss, hesitantly returning it, touching her tongue to his.
When she felt his teeth, her muscles stiffened.
Timon drew back. “You’re not ready,” he said hoarsely.
“Will you...bite me?” she asked.
“Not unless you want me to.”
“No,” she said. “Not yet.”
She pulled him down again, and he kissed her with great gentleness. She wanted to weep, but he was already moving on to kiss her cheeks and her jawline and her neck, never so much as grazing her with his teeth. His tongue stroked the lobe of her ear, and then the hollow of her neck.
While she was savoring the remarkable sensations, his fingers moved to the upper buttons of her shirt. A moment of shyness overwhelmed her, but she didn’t let Timon see it. She tried to help him with the buttons.
“Lie still,” he said, “or I’ll have to stop.”
Swallowing a whimper, she let him take his time unbuttoning her shirt. She wore nothing underneath, and she knew he must have seen her naked body many times while he had cared for her. But this was different. He placed the palm of his hand between her breasts, as if he were checking for her reaction. When she remained still, he moved his hand to cup her right breast. His skin felt pleasantly rough, and when his thumb grazed her nipple she gasped.
“Easy,” he said. He caressed her other nipple with his fingertips, expertly and thoroughly. Jamie closed her eyes and tried to remember that if she did anything to endanger her arm or leg, he would stop. And that she couldn’t bear.
When his mouth replaced his fingers, the shock was delightful. His tongue curled around her nipple and suckled. His legs weren’t touching hers, but she knew he would be as aching and hot as she.
He moved on to her other breast while he delicately pulled the tail of her shirt from the waistband of her pants. She felt no jarring of her leg or arm as he moved his mouth from her breasts to her stomach. His kisses burned like fire. She had never been so aware of her center of her body, or of the wet heat below.
“Are you all right?” he asked, his breath moving over her sensitive flesh.
“Yes,” she said. “Don’t...stop.”
“Tell me if you feel even the slightest pain.”
She couldn’t imagine what pain felt like now, unless it was the discomfort of wanting more. Wanting everything she knew he had to give. He began to pull her pants down by tiny increments, exposing her upper thighs, kissing and licking what he laid bare. He went on to ease her pant leg past the bandage, then hesitated to examine it.
With her free hand, Jamie grabbed a handful of Timon’s hair and pulled him down again. She already knew what was coming, and her body was leaping toward it with joyful abandon.
When his tongue touched the sensitive crease of her vulva, she almost forgot she had ever been injured.
Wet warmth rushed between her thighs as he began to stroke her with his tongue, caressing each satiny fold of skin and lingering on the nub of her clitoris with expert care. She knew that her gasps and moans of excitement must have sounded wanton, but she didn’t care. There was no other way to express this incredible experience, this profound physical joy.
And when he found her entrance and circled it with his tongue, all she could think of was what it would be like to feel that emptiness filled. She lifted her hips, and his tongue penetrated her.
It wasn’t enough. He withdrew for a moment, and she tugged at his hair again.
“Don’t stop,” she begged. “I want to feel you inside me.”
He obliged by thrusting his tongue deeper, mimicking the act of love. She quivered, and then a great rush of sensation overwhelmed her, carrying her to heights of ecstasy she’d never known.
When she came down again, she knew exactly what had happened. But she imagined something else...something no other kind of lovemaking could imitate.
With strength that surprised her, she pulled Timon’s head away with her good arm and tugged at his shoulder, eager to feel his body over hers. He braced himself on his arms and stared down into her eyes, his lips wet with her body’s moisture. She felt for his pants, fumbling with the buttons, her fingers slipping in their impatience. His erection seemed barely contained by his clothing. It would take so little to free him...
His hand stopped hers. “No, Jamie,” he said, a little breathlessly. “If I go on, I’ll hurt you. Your body isn’t ready.”
“Then you get nothing?” she asked, her eyes welling with tears.
“I had everything I needed,” he said, kissing her mouth. He pulled up her pants carefully, rebuttoned her shirt and caressed her hair. “Now it’s time for you to rest.”
He knelt beside her, his eyes closed, still touching her hair. She could almost feel him fighting his own desires for her sake.
“This wasn’t what I wanted,” she said.
He lay down beside her. “Sleep,” he said. “When you’re fully recovered, we can try again.”
“Yes.” She smiled and reached for his hand. “I understand now how all those other women must feel.”
“Hush,” he said, putting his finger over her mouth.
Jamie pretended to sleep, but her brain was on fire. Lassitude had overcome her body, yet she was aware of every heartbeat in her chest, every throb of the pulse in her throat.
It wasn’t possible that it could happen so fast, she thought. It could simply be just another irrational feeling, brought on by her brush with death. Timon had been right about that; she hadn’t been interested in what was sane or practical, only in the need to feel fully alive again. And to prove that Timon was nothing like the ugly Opir in her dreams.
But it hadn’t quite worked out that way. He hadn’t just given her pleasure, but something of himself, even if he hadn’t realized it.
And now she felt more than curiosity, more than gratitude or desire or the need to be held. The knowledge she hid within her most private self could never be shared...not with Greg or Amos, and most certainly never with Timon.
There was no place for love in a Rider’s world.
Chapter 11
Within the week, Timon decided that Jamie was fit to travel. There had been no more kissing or further intimacy during the intervening days; somehow Timon had always changed the subject when she suggested it.
Though Jamie still wanted him as much as ever, she didn’t push it. There were still many weeks of traveling ahead, much of it through rough territory. Timon had spent the time before their departure preparing for the journey. He showed her the map he carried with its landmarks of old cities and towns, and the vast expanse of the Central Valley followed by the desert, miles and miles of it.
Once they entered the desert, on the other side of Tehachapi Pass, they would be relying on water from springs and wells scattered along their route. There would be little game. It was not the hottest time of the year, but it would be warm enough.
Timon did all he could to prepare Jamie, and she didn’t doubt that he was genuinely concerned about her ability to tolerate the hardship without the wagon supplies. By now the delegation would be well ahead of them, but even considering the wagons’ slow pace, Timon and Jamie wouldn’t be in any position to move too fast with only two mounts and limited resources.
Still, Jamie found that little could disturb her happiness. Her leg no longer hurt, she wore only a simple sling over her arm now and she was eager to move.
Only one thing bothered her. Though Timon had obviously taken great pains to conceal what he was doing, she’d caught him taking blood from the game he was bringing back to camp. She’d known he must have been doing so all along; he hadn’t once troubled her with his needs.
She’d tried to bring up the subject without asking Timon outright. He’d sidestepped the issue with vague reassurances that he was perfectly well and needed nothing from her.
He would have no reason to lie to her, she thought. He didn’t know anything about what had happened in her childhood, and she wasn’t ready to tell him.
They set off east through the long, winding pass leading to the great Central Valley of old California and, for the next several days, travel was easy and good, camping places abundant. They spent a great deal of time simply riding side by side in silence, while Jamie made notes and sketches of anything that caught her eye, from ruined towns to unfamiliar plants. It was a pleasant interlude, free of raiders or any creature more dangerous than a mountain lion she spotted watching them pass.
And still Timon showed no overt signs of either wanting her body or her blood.
When they broke out of the rolling hills into the wide valley, they followed the old Interstate 5 southward along a nearly dry canal once built to carry water to the thirsty cities of Los Angeles and beyond. Jamie observed vast herds of wild horses, cattle and pronghorn antelope, along with scattered groups of deer, pigs and turkeys. They saw occasional hunters from hidden communities of humans, but no Opiri of any kind. Once it was clear that her wrist was completely healed, Timon began to teach her how to use his rifle and gave her a small knife to carry in her boot.
“Very few people will notice it,” he said. “Keep it well hidden. It may come in handy someday.”
By the time they turned east again toward the mountain pass that would lead them to the desert, they had made up half their lost days and Jamie had begun to develop skills she wouldn’t have believed possible for her to learn. Still, Timon was extremely cautious when he touched her—no lingering caresses, no kisses, nothing that might be considered a sexual advance.
She’d asked if he wanted their mutual attraction to stand between them for their entire journey, if he thought it would just go away. Now it seemed as if nothing had ever happened between them...as if she had imagined his desire before.
She considered trying to seduce him again, or at least starting a frank discussion about mutual physical needs. But she had lost her confidence, and when they reached the base of Tehachapi Pass, there was already someone waiting.
At first Jamie thought it was the delegation column, somehow delayed at the pass. But as they approached, she realized these vehicles were very different, like moving houses with peaked roofs and painted doors. A small herd of horses stood passively in a makeshift corral, and a group of men, women and children gathered around a fire set safely away from the wagons.
“Wanderers,” Timon said, aiming a grin at Jamie.
Immediately Jamie pulled her notebook from her satchel. “I’ve never met any before,” she said. “Did you expect them?”
“No,” he said, “but I’m glad to see them. They may be able to give u
s information about the delegation.”
With a sharp whistle, Timon turned Chloe toward the Wanderer’s camp. The people rose, men and women setting aside pipes and knitting to observe Jamie and Timon’s approach. Children ran toward the horses recklessly, but both Chloe and Lazarus neatly avoided them without any prompting on their riders’ part.
Timon was off his horse and helping Jamie down before she could catch her breath. He greeted the Wanderers with obvious familiarity, and he shared embraces with several of the adults. Then he turned back to Jamie and introduced her with an air of pride that surprised and humbled her.
“This is Ava,” he said, introducing her to an older woman with a brown, deeply lined face. “She leads this caravan.”
“Riders and their companions are always welcome among us,” Ava said, her long, colorful coat sweeping around her ankles. “We have just come out of the pass. You will have much to tell us of the Valley.”
“And we have much to ask,” Timon said.
“Food first,” Ava said. She consulted with her people in an odd, barely comprehensible dialect of English, and asked her guests to sit by the fire.
That night, Jamie felt the warmth of that family all around her. Ava was a generous hostess, offering pipes to them both. Jamie tried one puff and quickly realized that she had better leave the smoking to Timon, who shifted between common English and the Wanderers’ dialect as if he had been born in the caravans.
Timon insisted that she retire early, and she was given a bed in one of the wagons, a rare honor she was almost reluctant to accept. Timon stayed out with the others, speaking in a low voice of what he and Jamie had observed during their travels from the San Francisco region. Jamie lay awake, listening, until the party broke up and the Wanderers retired to their various wagons.
Jamie waited for Timon to come to her, hoping he would at least say good-night and she might finally try the techniques she had been practicing in her mind.
But he didn’t come. She tugged on her clothes and crept out of the wagon. By the light of a waxing moon, she could see silhouettes between two of the wagons across from her own.
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