by Karen Kay
“…beautiful,” he finished for her, his hand coming up to run his fingers over her cheek, down over her neck, down farther still, his gaze boldly dropping from her eyes, to her neck, descending slowly toward her breasts.
She could do no more than stare at him while her whole body remained inert. The man exuded danger, to be sure. She could feel it, knew she should move—swim back to shore, do anything but simply stand here. She couldn’t budge.
His face came close to hers; so very, very close. And still she waited, able to do little more than draw in a few brief gasps of air, watching him in wonder, mesmerized by his slow descent toward her.
She closed her eyes a mere fraction of a second before his lips touched hers, the kiss tentative, gentle, no more than a light brush of his lips upon hers, although the feel of him, the erotic taste of him made her head feel as if it had been set to spinning. And, although outwardly she might have presented an appearance of calm as she accepted his tender gesture, in secret and within herself, she exploded. Her pulse raced, her knees trembled, and excitement dashed over her nerve endings as though they were alive with a spirit of their own, making her feel as though she needed more; much, much more.
He lifted his head, his lips still achingly close to her own, and she throbbed with the need to throw herself into his embrace. But she couldn’t move, could only feel.
Surely he would kiss her again. She closed her eyes and bent forward with invitation, certain he would give her more; more of his kisses, more of the embraces she felt she so desperately needed.
But he didn’t. Even though she had leaned forward so temptingly, offering her lips to him once again, he abruptly turned away from her, the sound of the water spraying against him giving her testimony to the fact. She popped her eyes open to catch his barely contained shudder and immediately pulled back from him, embarassed.
Had he found her distasteful? That thought chilled her, and she felt a blush creep up to her cheeks despite the coolness of the water.
Thankfully, he didn’t appear to notice any of the questions or confusions spinning round and round in her mind. With a quick lunge forward, he called out to her, “Come, beautiful Alys. Let us see if you can beat me back to shore.”
It took her a moment to gather her senses together and respond. But at last, with a quick jerk of her head, she plunged forward, her race to the shore displaying such vigor that one might have thought a simple contest such as this could erase the past few minutes. Of course, it couldn’t.
That he let her win, pretending fatigue, was too sweet, and she thought she might forgive him anything, even his turning away from her. Well, almost anything.
Unfortunately, he had made a point, one she would not quickly forget. For she realized that despite her long years in the east, despite her protests that her infatuation with this man had been only a childish affair, he held her in the palm of his hand. Always had for that matter, right from the start.
It put her at a disadvantage with him, for he clearly did not feel the same way for her. Or did he?
Alys gave the man one last searching look before she came up onto her feet and waded to shore. Was it only her imagination, or did Moon Wolf, too, appear more than a little uncomfortable?
The thought brightened her mood considerably, and, turning her face away from him, she secretly smiled.
Chapter 6
As Wolf Shadow grew stronger, his teasing took on a new turn. He began touching her, his hand brushing against hers as she would hand him a bowl of soup or a cup of tea, a pat on the back if she’d done something he liked, a quick graze of his fingers on her cheek. Always when she worked over his wound he made some outrageous comment; even when she had sewn in his stitches, he had smiled at her at the same time in that oh, so seductive manner.
Not once in her childish imaginings had she ever added this sensual awareness to his untarnished image. It had never occurred to her to do so. And she was finding the real man more difficult to handle than anything she could have ever envisioned in her girlish fantasies.
She took stock of the man as he now appeared. True to his word, he had dressed himself in her father’s clothing. The old buckskin pants, she had discovered, were his favorite, though Alys had needed to cut away a part of them so she could attend to his wound. He had also donned one of her father’s homespun shirts, leaving it open so that she was constantly confronted with a tantalizing view of his broad chest. Such times always made her think of how he had looked without any clothing at all…
She jerked her thoughts away from that memory and forced herself to focus on other, safer images. His hair, for instance, which came almost to his waist. And his eyes, which were extraordinarily dark, practically black, glowing with merriment whenever he teased her and pride when he wasn’t. His face was more oval than round; his cheekbones were high and prominent, his nose straight, his lips full and sensuous. His was probably the most handsome face of her acquaintance. And the interesting thing was, he seemed unaware of it.
His body was rather large boned, but sleekly muscled, its masculine splendor a breathtaking testimony to his chosen lifestyle. And the cleft between his ribs was deeply grooved, making her wonder what it would feel like beneath her fingers.
Truth to tell, she found her hand halfway to him when she pulled it back and focused her attention on his injury, involving herself in rewrapping it.
All at once he came up onto one elbow. She sent him a quick look. Oh dear. His eyes held that glimmer of mischief that she had come to expect from him, and she tried to prepare herself for what he might have in store for her today. She wasn’t long in waiting to find out.
“I have been thinking very long and hard about this and have decided that I would like to take another trip to the falls, that I might have a bath,” he said, then grinned at her.
“Fine,” she replied, matter-of-fact. “You know the way.” She had taken to bringing him fresh water each day in which to bathe; since that one time, he had not indicated any desire to have the arrangement any other way.
He smiled at her. “Do you think I can make it on my own?”
“You’d darn well better be able to make it, for I will not accompany you there, not again.”
“And why would you not?”
She gave him an exasperated look. “You know why. The last time I took you there, you tried to make me go swimming with you and I ended up drenched, rescuing you when you didn’t need rescuing.”
“Was that so bad? Is Little Brave Woman afraid that I might influence her and prompt her to join me again?”
She straightened up from where she had been tending his wound. “Of course,” she answered, carefully masking a smile. The man needed no encouragement. “You tease me incessantly.”
“You insult me, I think. What is this incessantly?”
“It is a word that means continually.”
“Continually? Aa, you wound me deeply. You think I only tease?”
She almost allowed herself a grin, but she held it back. She was beginning to realize that she couldn’t give this man an inch. She said, “Call it what you will. I will not go there with you and you know why.”
“Are you saying that you think I might persuade you to swim with me?”
“A wise man.”
“Then you admit that you may not be as unresponsive to me as you would like me to think?”
She didn’t even deign to answer that one. She shot him an irritated glance instead.
“Aa, so you are telling me that you might peek at me as I take my time under the falls?”
“Now, why would I want to do that?”
“I do not know.” He cast her an angelic look. “You are the one who said it.”
“I said no such thing. Do not put words in my mouth that I haven’t uttered, or credit me with something that only you would do.”
He laughed. “Come you here, sweet Alys. I will need you to help me bandage up the wound once more.”
“Fine. I will do it when yo
u return from the falls.”
“And what if I slip while I am there? I could hurt myself.”
“If you’re worried about it, don’t go.”
“And you would not concern yourself about me, even a little?”
“Not this much.” Her fingers showed him the measurement of an inch.
“Too bad,” he countered with a sigh. “I think it is important that I have this bath if I am to recover completely.”
“I bring you water each day.”
“But it is not the same thing, and you know it. Come with me.”
“I know you well enough to know that you want something else from me. What is it?”
He gave her another of those guileless looks, to which she was becoming accustomed.
What was it? She planted her arms over her chest. “What?”
“I grow bored, and more intrigued with you every day. I think I would like to get to know you better.”
“‘Better’ meaning?…”
“Better. Though you come here every day, I do not know you well enough. I would like to see you swimming again, I think.”
It was a strange thing, this closeness that had sprung up between them. It was a necessary thing, and probably natural, since she was nursing him, but he had never relented in his purpose. He pursued her with titillating vigor, as though she were the only woman on earth; teasing her with his odd sense of humor, tantalizing her with his body, although he never took advantage of her when she might have let him.
She said, “I suppose you would like to see me swimming in something that would be altogether unfitting?”
“Unfitting? I would like to see you without your clothes. Aa, yes, this I would like, very much.”
She drew in her breath. “Now see here, Mister Wolf Shadow, there is little I have done to make you think that—”
“Every day, you are here with me.”
“It cannot be helped. I will tell this to you once again. We are not a couple. We are not married, are no more than good friends. So set your mind to other things.”
He grinned at her, not even pretending to misunderstand. “But it would be good for me.”
“And bad for me.”
“Very good for you. Not bad. Never bad.”
“You are impossible. And I don’t remember you being like this when we were young.”
“Aa, yes, we were young, too young. But now—”
“Stop it. I am not going to go to the falls with you nor am I going swimming with you…not now, not in the future…”
“Come in, Little Brave Woman. The water is good, very, very good.”
Alys turned her head away from the man, her air dismissive.
She heard his laugh and wondered what it would feel like to dunk him under that falling water. She felt certain it would bring her great relief.
She drew in a deep breath. She’d had no choice in accompanying him, of course.
She had watched him struggle toward the falls, had tried looking away, knowing he had exaggerated each and every falter in his step. Yet in the end, she had not been able to remain a simple observer.
She had come to his rescue, had helped him through the tunnels and outside into the falls. She had even spied on him as he had undressed, much to her chagrin.
The flirt. He knew the effect he was having on her, seemed to relish in it.
“Hmmm. Feels good, this water,” he called to her again. “Are you certain you will not join me?”
“I am going to the house. I will come back here later and check on you.”
“What? And leave me here by myself?”
“Yes, and leave you here by yourself.”
“But what will you do if I fall? What if I need you to help me return to the cave?”
“You should have thought of that before you came here.”
“But I am thinking of it now. Can you really consider leaving me?”
“Very easily.”
A long silence befell them, and suddenly he was in front of her, dripping water all over her, with no more than a cloth covering his unmentionable parts. She stared up at him, shivers running up and down her spine. And it wasn’t from the cold: she didn’t need to be told twice how this man would look without that tiny bit of cloth covering him.
He said, “If you are not going to take advantage of the water, then I will dress and follow you back through the caves. But I think you are unwise to leave the bath, and me ready to attend your every—”
“Enough. Do you hear me? You have done nothing these past few days but bait me. And what do you mean, coming here in front of me with so little clothing on?”
“I am covering myself properly.”
“You call that proper? Do you think I don’t know what you look like without that?…” She felt a deep flush creep up to her cheeks, saw a grin on his face. “How much of this do you think I can stand?”
“I do not know. A little too much in my opinion.”
“I am a friend. I am trying to help you. There is nothing more to it than that. This constant flirting with me must stop. Do you understand?”
“Me?” His look was comically innocent. “Flirting? What does this word mean?”
She frowned at him. He knew exactly what it meant. “You are impossible.”
“And yet I have only your good at heart.”
“Humph. I’m not so certain of that either.”
He smiled at her before, looking away, he suddenly frowned. “I think I am well enough to use some of my day in exercise.” He stole a glimpse toward the falls. “Have you heard anything about any more whiskey schooners going north?”
“I…I haven’t asked.”
He sent her a hard look. “Would you…ask? I would know what is planned.”
“Why? You are not well enough to do anything about it.”
“I do not agree. Look you here to me. I am practically recovered.”
“So much so that you have needed my help to get to your bath?”
He smirked. “That is different.”
“I hardly think so.”
He came down onto his knees before her, his dark eyes staring into hers, his look completely serious. “Would you please find out what you can? That is one thing I cannot do on my own. I cannot yet move about the fort with ease.”
“And you are in no shape to stop any of the wagons, even if there were any.”
“Still,” he persisted, “I must know.”
She hesitated, even while his dark eyes pleaded with her. Though she knew she might come to regret it, she found herself saying, “Very well, I will do it, this once, but only after you are fully recovered. Do you understand?”
He grinned. “And will you help me to recover?”
“Yes, I will try.”
“Aa, it is good.” He lifted one eyebrow. “And how will you help me, do you think? I have many ideas…”
She rolled her eyes heavenward.
“Why, Miss Clayton, it’s good to see you here in town.”
Alys turned around quickly, her auburn-brown curls falling around her face with the movement. And though her corn-colored silk parasol and her muslin cap should have hidden her from the identity of that voice, it was no use pretending. She recognized Lieutenant Warrington. Unconsciously she frowned.
He was not one of the people she wished to see. Not now. Not today.
He took off his hat as he approached her, his steps sounding hollow and hard against the wooden slabs of the walkway. “I have come to your home to call on you several times, but so far I have only been able to have tea with your mother and Mary. You have been away. Where do you go?”
Alys hadn’t meant to, but she felt herself go rigid, both physically and mentally. Unfortunately, she did not have a ready-made answer. If she were aiding the Wolf Shadow, and she was, then Lieutenant Warrington had to be one of her staunchest opponents…if he were ever to find out.
Besides, there was more at stake here than her own reputation and that of her mother’s. There was
Moon Wolf, his life, his purpose; also her own secrets, there within the caverns…
She smiled faintly before she countered, “Has a young woman no privacy in this town?”
“Very little.”
“Then it is something we should change, don’t you think?”
He nodded, taking hold of her white-gloved hand and placing it on the sleeve of his coat. “Perhaps we should at that,” he agreed. “A young woman must need her privacy. That is, if you are any example. Perhaps I can ensure it. Come, walk with me.”
Alys didn’t want to go anywhere with him, itched to remove her hand, but she dare not assert herself. At least not now. Not only would it be socially unacceptable but she also did not wish to draw attention to herself, to them. She forced herself to smile at him once again.
They had taken only a few steps, however, when the lieutenant leaned toward her and offered, “I have been wanting to talk to you about the other night.”
“Oh? The night of the party?”
“Yes, I have been thinking about what I said to you that night, and I am afraid that I gave you entirely the wrong impression of the bull trains and the merchants.”
“Did you?”
“Yes, I think that I did. I was mistaken, you see. There is no whiskey being shipped across the border into Canada. I’m sorry if I gave you false information. It has probably caused you some concern, too. I am sorry about that.”
“Oh? Are you? Why, thank you, Lieutenant. How kind of you to think of me.”
“Not at all, my dear. Not at all.”
She paused suddenly, causing him to jerk back unexpectedly as she said, “You are forgetting one thing, however, aren’t you?”
“Am I?” The grin he gave her appeared more anxious than pleasing.
“Yes. I remember what I smelled after that fight, what I saw dripping from the cargo—”
“But it is so easily explained, my dear.” He patted her hand and drew her back into step with him. “What you smelled was the tavern next door. I’m entirely certain of it. One of the soldiers had accidently shot a barrel full of the hard liquor. What you saw…well, it was dark, after all, too dark to see clearly. I’m sure you understand.”