by Lois Greiman
They sat in silence. Her knees were pulled to her chest and her eyes were like bright emeralds as she watched him.
“Tell you what. I'll take off my boots first. To prove my good faith. If I'm struck dead, you can keep yours on."
He wasn't positive, but he thought he saw a whisper of a smile lift her lips. It intrigued him and somehow made his heart ache. "All right, here goes. Pray for me," he said and placed his hands above the heel of one boot. There he stopped, screwing up his face and closing his eyes, as if fearful lightning would somehow find and sear him to cinders.
"You're teasing me."
Very soft now, her voice didn't seem to hold resentment.
He opened his eyes. "Yes, I am," he said and saw now that she was smiling shyly. The pain that had begun at his heart swept outward, making it difficult to speak. "You are an extremely beautiful woman."
Her expression faltered slightly, leaving the frightened doe look again.
"Now you say, 'Thank you, Joseph,'" Raven coached.
The smile brightened slightly. "The name Joseph seems quite... personal."
"Ah, but you forget." He pulled off his first boot with a flourish and held the thing aloft for a moment. "We are now at a very personal stage in our relationship. The..."—he tugged his other boot free—"shoe removal stage." He raised his brows at her, and, wonder of wonders, she laughed.
"Now you're making fun of me."
"No, I'm not." He set the boots aside and searched her face for fear. It was still there, though mostly hidden by other emotions and shadows. "How do you sit like that?"
"Like what?" She hugged her knees more closely to her chest, so that her chin was just above them.
"Like that." He watched her.
"I just do." She shrugged, looking nervous.
He sighed. "Can't do that," he said, making a feeble attempt before settling back onto one palm. "Men must be made different."
Surprisingly, she responded, though slowly. "Entirely different species, I think."
"You're doing very well here, Charm," he said with a smile. "Carrying on a ridiculously inane conversation and still breathing. I think you could manage the shoe thing."
A long, burnt-cinnamon lock had come loose from her knot of hair. She pushed it back. "You think I'm a dolt."
"Hardly that," he said seriously.
"You think I'm a frightened little mouse."
Raven clenched his teeth, suddenly feeling inexplicably protective of this young beauty before him. "I think I'd like to kill whoever has hurt you."
He had not intended to be so blatantly honest. He found suddenly that they were both silent, waiting.
"All right." She said the words very suddenly, as though she had to chase them out before they became trapped in her throat. "I'll take my shoes off."
"Oh no," he said on a smooth exhalation. "That wasn't the deal. Either I take them off or those things stay on."
Her laughter could light up the night and seemed to do just that.
"Is there something I should know about your strange affinity for feet?"
He laughed now too. Who would have thought the girl had a sense of humor? "Feet? No. But elbows!" he said and shot her left arm a lascivious glance.
She drew her knees in more sharply, as if she might crawl within herself. Raven sighed mentally.
"Tell me who it was who has scared you so, Charm."
Silence settled between them.
"Are you going to take off my shoes or am I going to have to sleep with them on again?"
How did one attempt to breach the emotional wall Charm had so effectively erected? Raven wondered, but now hardly seemed the time to discuss it. Reaching slowly for her lades he tugged the first one free. Her full skirt and petticoats made an effective barrier between him and her legs and fell full-length down to her shoe tops. Still, there was an intimacy somehow that baffled and exhilarated him. Easing the lace loose in its holes, he slipped his hand behind her heel to gently pull the shoe away.
"There." He set it aside and watched her face, wondering if she looked pale. "That wasn't so bad was it?"
"Almost... bearable," she said, and he grinned at her before reaching for her second foot.
This time he made so bold as to touch her ankle as he tugged the shoe free, and now they sat, staring at each other like two errant schoolchildren.
"Well..." He took a deep breath, remembering a time when he had actually touched a woman's bare skin, had felt her move beneath him. Yet somehow it seemed that those times had held no more excitement for him than this. He was a sick man, Raven deduced wryly. "We'd better get some sleep.
"Would you kiss me?"
He was quite certain his heart stopped beating. For a moment he considered giving his chest a good hard rap to start it up again. "No." It was amazing how a person could sometimes force himself to say almost anything. "I won't."
"Why?" Her voice was nothing if not surprised.
"Because you'd hate me. Not to mention the fact that you'd probably kill me."
"What if I promised not to?"
"Not to hate me or not to kill me?"
"Both."
He ran his fingers through his hair, wondering how fast he could saddle his horse and get the hell out of there. But he couldn't decide which was more cowardly, staying or leaving, so he stayed. "You're a very confusing young woman, Charm. First I can't touch your shoes, now you want to be kissed."
He could hear her draw a breath. "You think I'm not confused?"
On the contrary, he thought, she was very confused. She was confusing him with someone who had the strength to kiss her and go no further. All he'd bargained for was shoe removal, and that was stretching his limits. "Why?"
She hugged her legs more tightly against her chest, looking very small. "Why what?"
Oh for God's sake! he wanted to yell, but he kept rigid control and asked, "Why do you want me to kiss you?"
"Well..." Her voice was tight. "The usual reasons. You know."
He wanted to laugh, but every fiber in his body felt taut as a bow string, from his throat on down, making it impossible. "No. I don't."
She swallowed. "Neither do I," she finally whispered. "What are the usual reasons?"
Why not just kiss her and get it over with? Raven wondered rather wildly, but good sense made him answer instead, for rushing the girl would be a bad bet. "Oh... desire," he breathed. "Lust." He frowned, wondering if she had meant to make him think this hard. "Love maybe. Curiosity."
"How about fear?"
"Fear? No. I'm afraid people don't kiss out of fear."
"I hate being afraid."
"Forgive me for not following your line of reason."
"Maybe I'll get over it... if I kiss you." Raven frowned again, thinking he should, perhaps, be insulted. "So it'd be a kind of experiment?"
"Yes."
"And I'd be nothing more than a sort of lowly, ignorant test animal."
She blinked, looking young and sweet and chagrined. "Well, rather like that, yes." Raven shrugged. "That sounds reasonable."
Chapter 18
"But... no hands," Charm said.
She could see Raven watching her in the darkness. "What?" he asked.
"You can't... touch me." She knew she was crazy, and yet, never in her life had she felt it was so possible to overcome her fear of men. "Can you do that?" Her question was little more than a breath of uncertainty to her own ears.
It took him a few seconds to answer. "Of course."
"All right."
Neither one moved.
"How... um..." She felt as if she might faint and half hoped she would. "How do we go about this?"
"Well," he began, raising his brows slightly. "Folks usually trust their instincts in the heat of the moment."
She blinked. "Oh."
"It's not usually discussed to death beforehand. Usually a passionate embrace, that sort of thing."
"Oh. Then you mean we can't—"
"I'm sure we can," he int
errupted swiftly, then grinned in that self-deprecating manner she had almost learned to expect from him.
"Then..." Though she tried, she found she could not finish the question.
"Lie down."
"What?" Her tone was panicked and her throat felt tight.
"I'm not going to hurt you, Charm. Not ever."
She remembered to breathe, and she nodded mutely.
"Lie down."
She did so finally, lying flat on her back and feeling very like a piece of lumber ready for the mill. Just as stiff, just as breathless, just as doomed.
Raven eased down beside her, keeping almost a foot of space between them and staring into her eyes. "Nervous?"
"No!"
He laughed, very low in his throat. "Oh, come now, you can lie better than that. Let's try it again." He paused, still watching her. "So, Miss Charm," he began slowly, "are you nervous?"
Why didn't he just kiss her and get it over with? But he seemed determined to play games, so she took a deep breath and said, "No," in a voice that almost sounded seductive in its breathlessness. "Why should I be?"
He laughed again. The sound felt strange, like the rough stroke of a kitten's tongue, shivery, yet gentle. "Very good. I decided when you lied to Clancy for me, right after the lynch attempt, I decided you could lie with the best of them. Maybe even better than Clancy, damn his hide. May I touch your hair?"
She opened her mouth to deny his request and his assessment of her abilities, but he interrupted smoothly.
"I wouldn't actually be touching you. No skin, of course. Just hair."
Somehow he made it all sound very silly, and she could do nothing but nod.
He reached for that wayward lock that always escaped bondage. It lay across her left breast, and though she held her breath, he was true to his word and avoided contact. His fingers connected with the hair where it touched nothing but air near her neck.
"Very soft." He caressed the lock between his thumb and fingers. "Like living water in cinnamon hues."
He was a poet. Who would have thought?
"May I take it down?"
"What?" Her inhalation was sharp.
"Should I take that as a 'no'?"
"Take what down?"
"Your hair. It's coming loose."
"Oh." Her breath came slightly easier now, for in her frantic imaginings, she had thought of all sorts of things that could be taken down. "Well..."
"No skin," he promised. "And just one hand." He replaced the wayward lock to lift his right hand as evidence. "Surely you can't sleep with those pins in anyway."
"I don't sleep," she reminded him breathlessly.
"I could help you."
"What?"
He remained absolutely silent, watching her. "Nothing. How about the hair?"
"All right."
He was lying on his numb arm and reached for her with his right hand. She felt his fingers brush her scalp, felt a pin tugged free. The knot loosened at the back of her head. His hand appeared again to place the pin between their bodies before returning for a second, and then a third. It was a breathless sort of endeavor. His fingers just barely caressed her hair until all the pins lay before her, and the heavy mass of her tresses was set free.
"You should wear it down all the time," he said, and reaching behind again, drew it gently forward to stroke the ends against his face. "Can I come a little closer?" But before she could answer he was already a few inches nearer. "This is a hard job to do from back there." He grinned, reminding her of his promise to kiss her. "Are you ready?"
Charm almost pulled away, almost jerked to her feet. Instead she remained as she was, feeling panic swell around her like a wild tide. He moved nearer, his gaze boring steadily into hers. Breath knotted in Charm's throat. His eyes were sleepily seductive. His lips were parted. He moved nearer still—and kissed her cheek.
"Good night, Charm," he said casually and turned his back.
"You cheated."
Raven woke to the sound of Charm's voice. Opening his eyes, he found her staring at him from only inches away. It was a shock to his already shocked system. After all, who would have thought he would actually have the strength to kiss her cheek and draw away? It was amazing what he could do when he set his mind to something: pretend to faint to prevent her from leaving, pretend to sleep to prevent her from leaving, pretend to be content with kissing her cheek to prevent her from leaving.
"Do you realize it's the dead of night?" he asked quietly.
"Yes."
"You really don't sleep, do you?"
"Only..."
"Snatches," he finished for her and sat up wearily. "Was there something you wanted?"
"A kiss."
He was immediately wide-awake and cursed himself for it, trying to feel sleepy. "I already did that."
"But you cheated."
"Explain or go away," he said, feeling impatient frustration ride him with more force than he thought possible.
"It wasn't a real kiss."
"I beg to differ."
"It wasn't even... frightening."
"You want to be scared, take your clothes off." He hadn't meant to say it, but the words were out. He could see the fear in her eyes and cursed himself again, but fatigue and celibacy had made fools of better men than he. "Let sleeping dogs lie, Charm," he said more softly.
She drew a quiet breath. "You're not sleeping."
He frowned, wondering if this conversation was making as little sense as he suspected. "Are you calling me a dog?"
"You don't know what it's like, living with this fear."
"Is that why you don't sleep?"
She looked away. "I have dreams. Had them as long as I can remember. Of a big man with blond hair. He wears a hat... cocked... to one side. He's very handsome." She took three full breaths, doing her best to fight the fear. "He wakes me up. Smiles. Always smiles. And then..." She shook her head, knowing the motion was jerky. "He hurts me. He wakes me up. And... hurts me."
"Charm..."
"Once..." She interrupted him quickly, though for a moment words failed her. "When I was about twelve a man came into my room. He was so big..." She paused, remembering his hands on her, remembering her consuming fear. "And he was wearing the hat."
"The source of the nightmares."
"No!" She shook her head wildly. "I dreamt of him before... before I saw him! It was as if... as if I had conjured him up in my dreams." Her voice was a whisper. "I can't afford to sleep."
"What happened that night?"
Although she heard his question, she refused to answer. "Can't afford to sleep," she murmured again.
"What happened, Charm? Did he hurt you?"
She swallowed, feeling as if she would surely die. "Jude came. Saved me. Killed him," she whispered and nodded. "With his bare hands. Beat him to death." A strange sobbing sound rattled from her throat, surprising her. "Left him dead. All beaten..." Her voice broke as her eyes closed and Raven caught her in the strength of his arms.
"Shh," he whispered, holding her against him.
"Jude killed him."
"Are you sure he was dead?"
She closed her eyes, remembering. "No one could have lived through that."
Raven's jaw tightened. "Good."
She drew a sharp breath between her teeth and drew abruptly away. "What if it was my fault?"
Raven scowled and reached for her again, but she shook her head and drew back.
"What if I created him in my head? Called him in my dreams?"
"That's crazy."
She sat very still, feeling sick to her stomach. Never had she spoken of that night. "I am crazy," she whispered.
"No." Raven's expression was somber and hard. "You're not crazy, Charm. You're just a survivor. It doesn't make you guilty."
"But the man in the hat—"
"Deserved to die," Raven interrupted. "You did the world a favor."
She tightened her fists, trying to allow the relief he offered.
"I wi
sh I could make it better for you, Charm. Take away all the pain. But—"
"But maybe you can," she said softly. "I mean, I'm a grown woman, Raven. There's no longer any reason for me to fear men as I do."
"Most men are... aren't to be trusted," Raven said quietly.
"Trust!" She laughed shakily, then swallowed and paused a moment. "I'm not talking about trust. I'm talking about..." She shook her head. "Sleep. About being able to sleep. To breathe. Just to be... normal."
"You're better than normal, Charm," he whispered.
She studied the intensity of his face. "Kiss me," she whispered back.
He shook his head. "I don't think a single kiss will—"
"You asked me why I wore the gowns."
"What?"
"You asked if Jude made me wear those gowns. Well, he didn't. I did it on my own, and you know why? Because it gave me power. Because when men look at me, I can feel their lust." She paused. "I know I have something they want but can't have. I feel the derringer in my pocket. The knife in my garter. And I know I can kill them if they touch me. It's a power," she said more quietly, "that's all mine."
He said nothing, and she wondered numbly if he hated her now, after admitting something she hadn't known herself.
"I want to get over it, Raven," she whispered.
There was a moment of absolute stillness, and then he reached for her. She squeezed her eyes closed and waited. His touch was very soft against her cheek, and when he leaned closer, she could smell the tangy fragrance of woodsmoke and sweet tobacco.
The kiss was gentle, very soft and very brief. Yet, it ignited sparks of something other than fear. They flashed from her lips to her breasts and downward in curling flames of surprise. She could sense him leaning back and opened her eyes to find him watching her.
"So what do you think?" he asked quietly.
"That's it?"
One corner of his mouth lifted into a wry smile. "'Fraid so."
"Well..." She sighed, not sure if it was relief or exhilaration. "That was almost... bearable."
His laughter was a beautiful thing. "You're very hard on a man's self-esteem, Lucky Charm."
She smiled, feeling suddenly as if she could fly, as if she had stood the test of fire. "And you're very cautious."