“Curious little cat,” Caleb said huskily. “Go ahead. It’s just as well.”
“What do you mean?”
His laugh was too short, too hard. “Feel me, honey. I want you like Hell on fire, but it’s too soon for you to take me again. I’d hurt you.”
Willow looked from the topaz blaze of Caleb’s eyes to the hungry flesh she was stroking. He was hard, hot, full, and she could feel his heartbeat pulsing heavily.
“As for what’s allowed,” Caleb said, “I never was a man for fences and foolish rules. Anything you want is allowed. I mean it, Willow. Anything.”
“Even this?” she asked, giving in to the temptation that had become unbearable.
She bent down, sending her hair sliding across his naked legs and the far more sensitive flesh she was cradling in her hands. The cool golden strands were in violent contrast to Caleb’s own heat, but nothing was as stark as the searing instant when her lips parted and the tip of her tongue caressed the same satin texture that had so intrigued her fingers.
“You’re even smoother than I thought you would be,” Willow whispered as she straightened.
Taken by surprise once again, Caleb fought for control of his own body. The wild little caress was the last thing he had expected from Willow. It slid past all his defenses, leaving him completely naked in her hands. He felt the first shuddering pulses of release tear through his body. With a low sound he gave himself to ecstasy and to the girl who was watching him with wonder in her eyes.
When Caleb could breathe once more, he brought Willow’s hands up his body and kissed them.
“Now you know,” he said.
Willow’s smile was another kind of caress. “Yes.”
“And now it’s my turn to know you in the same way.”
Her eyes widened. “I don’t understand.”
“You will.”
One of Caleb’s hands touched Willow’s mouth, sealing in her questions with a sensual pressure before sliding down to the hollow of her throat. The rapid beating of her pulse was evidence that pleasuring him had excited her. His hand slid under golden strands of hair until it rested between the smooth rise of her breasts.
“No objections?” he asked softly.
Willow shook her head, making light shimmer through her hair.
Caleb’s other hand eased beneath Willow’s hair. When he began sliding the camisole from her body, she made no protest. As the fine lace floated to the ground, he looked at her openly, approving of her, feeling a fierce satisfaction when her nipples became tight pink buds in response to his glance.
“What are you thinking?” Caleb asked.
Once it would have embarrassed Willow to answer, but no more. Caleb had given himself to her without restraint or hesitation. She could do no less with him.
“I was thinking of being kissed,” she said simply.
“Here?” He touched the velvet tip of one breast.
Willow trembled as pleasure showered through her. “Yes.”
“And here?”
The other peak hardened beneath his touch.
“Yes,” she whispered.
“I’m thinking about it, too.”
Caleb bent and kissed Willow’s breasts, brushing his mustache across her slowly, repeatedly, enjoying the breaking of her breath at each caress. His long fingers stroked her waist, then retreated down her body, taking the last of her clothing.
“I’m thinking about kissing you here, too,” Caleb said, pressing a fingertip lightly into her navel.
The unexpected caress sent a sunburst of sensations radiating from the pit of Willow’s stomach. Her breath came in with a surprised gasp. Caleb’s hand slid lower, drawing a shivering sound from her. She was soft, sultry, welcoming.
“And here.”
Willow made a breathless sound that was pleasure and surprise combined.
“Open for me,” he whispered, bending down, touching his tongue to her navel.
The gentle brush of Caleb’s fingertips between her thighs was exquisite. Willow gave a ragged little sigh and shifted her legs, allowing him more freedom. The gliding, probing intimacy of his finger made her gasp. The liquid ease of his penetration was a sweet revelation for both of them.
“Hot little cat,” Caleb said, biting her belly gently. “I can feel how much you liked making me lose control. I’m going to enjoy doing the same to you.”
Gently, Caleb bore Willow back onto the blanket until she was lying down once more.
“Tell me if I hurt you,” he said, easing deeply into her. “You’re so small…”
Willow shuddered.
“Did that hurt?” he asked.
“No.”
“You trembled.”
“I was remembering.”
“What?”
“You. Inside me.”
Caleb smiled and bit Willow a little less gently, drawing another small cry from her. His thumb moved and splinters of fire pierced her, melting her in a shimmering rush. She felt the spreading warmth of her response and stiffened in shock.
“Caleb, I didn’t mean to—”
“It’s all right,” he interrupted, laughing softly to feel the heat of Willow’s pleasure on his hand. “It happened in the pool, too, but you couldn’t feel it. I could, though. It drove me right over the edge.”
He smoothed his cheek against the golden thatch that shielded her softness.
“Open more for me,” Caleb whispered.
Willow’s legs shifted again, making room for him to kneel between them. A hard thumb circled the satin knot of nerves that was no longer hidden. Streamers of pleasure burst through her, making her cry out. When he lifted his thumb, she moaned a protest. He smiled and redoubled his touch inside her, pressing sensually, teasing her with the memory of what it had been like to be filled completely. The heat of her response spilled between them.
“That’s it, little cat,” Caleb said, bending down to Willow. “Tell me you like my hands as much as I liked yours.”
His tongue circled the satin nub, touching her with a whip of fire. The caress excited her beyond bearing. Pleasure burst again, a hot rain that she shared helplessly with him.
“Sweet woman,” he said, tasting her.
“Caleb,” she said urgently, for the tension in her was becoming unbearable. “I—”
Pleasure burst within Willow again, taking her voice. Caleb made a low sound of satisfaction and encouragement, asking for more of her response, luring her closer and closer to the brink of ecstasy with each sultry flick of his tongue, enjoying her in a way he had never enjoyed a woman before. His teeth closed gently on the violently sensitive nub, holding her captive for silky caresses that were like nothing she had ever imagined.
Suddenly, Willow knew what it felt like to be touched by lightning. A sound of anguished pleasure was torn from her as her whole body tightened. She called Caleb’s name again and was answered by a caress whose intimacy ripped away the world, hurtling her into wild ecstasy.
After a few more moments, Caleb reluctantly released Willow’s shivering flesh and kissed a path up her body. Her eyes opened, dazed by the pleasure whose aftermath was still rippling through her in ever widening rings.
“Such beautiful eyes,” Caleb said. “Beautiful mouth, beautiful breasts, beautiful…woman.”
Willow saw the luminous approval in Caleb’s glance and shivered again. She slid her arms around him, urging him to press full length against her, needing to feel him along her whole body. Understanding her need, for it was also his own, he braced his weight on his elbows and lowered himself until he touched every inch of her.
Sighing, Willow hugged Caleb even closer, quivering with every other breath, still captive to the ecstasy he had given her. The weight and textures of his body covering hers felt incredibly good. Without thinking, she rubbed against him, liking the heat and strength of him. He eased more of his weight onto her, no longer trying to keep her from feeling all of him. When she sensed the hard masculine need in him, her breath cam
e in swiftly.
“You have the damnedest effect on me,” Caleb said, his voice gritty and rueful. “So stop wriggling and hug me until it goes away.”
“Is that the way it works?”
“I don’t know. I’ve never had this problem before.”
“You haven’t?”
“No,” he admitted, biting Willow’s ear delicately. “Just with you.”
Willow gasped and tightened her grip on his big body. The heat and power in Caleb sent pleasure rippling through her once more. Instinctively, she shifted, wanting to bring him even closer. He tried to throttle a groan but was only partially successful.
“Caleb?” she asked huskily.
“Hold still, honey.”
“I have a better idea.”
Willow’s legs shifted again, separating until she could feel the blunt thrust of his hunger pressing against her. She moved her hips slowly, wanting a different kind of closeness. The sound of Caleb’s breath hissing out told her that he was as aware of her welcoming, sultry core as she was.
“Damn it, Willow. I don’t want to hurt you.”
“Does the key hurt the lock?” she whispered.
“Not when they’re made for each other. Were you made for me, little cat?”
“Yes,” she said huskily. “Only for you. Take what’s yours, Caleb. Give me what is mine.”
For a long, burning moment he looked down into Willow’s hazel eyes, in thrall to her honesty. Certainty condensed within him, the realization that he could no more turn away from her than a river could run back from the sea.
Caleb breathed Willow’s name as he bent to kiss her. Slowly he claimed what was his and gave what was hers, merging their bodies a shimmering fraction at a time, feeling the sharing all the way to his soul. The breath came out of her in a long, rippling sigh that was his name. He wanted to ask if he was hurting her, but before he could find the words, her body answered. The tiny, secret contractions of her pleasure urged him deeper, gilding him with her response. He answered with a silky pulse that mingled his essence with hers, easing his way even more until their joining was deep and complete.
The feeling was exquisite. Willow’s eyes opened as she felt herself coming slowly undone, ecstasy stealing through her. She whispered Caleb’s name, trying to tell him of the beauty he was giving her, but she knew no words to describe the transformation taking place in her body. His kiss told her that he understood, that he was being transformed as surely as she was. She heard her own name breathed against her lips, sensed the pulses of his ecstasy rippling through his body into hers.
The knowledge that Caleb was coming undone as slowly and completely as she was sent another shimmering tide through Willow, consuming her and him as well, fusing them in a union that was both primitive and sublime. Neither knew where self ended and other began, for there was no self, no other, simply an incandescent whole where once two halves had been.
14
“H OW is he?” Willow asked.
“Good as new. All Deuce needed was some time doing nothing except eating his fool head off.”
Caleb slapped Deuce on his haunch, sending the big horse trotting into the meadow’s evening silence once more. The bullet wound had healed cleanly. The strained foreleg had taken longer, but now there was no hesitation in the horse’s stride.
“He’s moving well,” she said. “Not a bit of a limp anymore.”
The unhappiness in Willow’s voice was at odds with her words, but Caleb understood what she meant. He felt the same way. The eighteen days he had spent with her in the hidden valley was as close to heaven as he ever expected to come. Now that Deuce was sound again and the Arabians were better accustomed to high altitude, there was no excuse to linger.
“We can stay longer,” Caleb said abruptly, speaking aloud the thought that had haunted him more and more frequently since he had discovered Willow’s innocence. “We don’t have to go haring off after your damned brother. If we were meant to find him, we’ll find him no matter where we are. And if we weren’t meant to find him, so be it.”
Willow flinched at the hard edge to Caleb’s voice. She had grown accustomed to his laughter, his gentleness, and his unbridled sensuality. Not once in the past eighteen days had she seen the bleak archangel that was also part of him. She had almost forgotten it was there.
“If it were just me, I’d never leave this valley,” Willow said unhappily. “But Matt must need help or he wouldn’t have written to his brothers. It was just his bad luck that no one was left at home except me.” She smiled at Caleb and added in a soft voice, “But it was my good luck, because it led me to you.”
Caleb closed his eyes and tried to control the unreasonable anger snaking through his veins—anger at Willow, at himself, and most of all at the simple fact that once Reno was found, Willow was irretrievably lost.
“I’d rather stay in Eden,” Caleb said roughly.
“So would I, my love,” she said, going to him. “So would I.”
Willow slid her arms around Caleb and held him, savoring the familiar warmth and strength of him. His arms closed around her a little fiercely, lifting her off her feet. He kissed her hard and deep before he set her firmly on the ground once more and pinned her with a glance so savage she made a sound of protest.
“Remember,” Caleb said harshly, “you were the one who wanted to go looking for him. I was willing to leave it to God.”
“What do you mean?”
Caleb’s smile was as thin and fierce as the blade of the big knife he always wore, but he said nothing more.
“Caleb?” she asked fearfully.
“Dig out your map, southern lady.”
She flinched at the tone of his voice and at the nickname he hadn’t used since they had come to the valley. “My map?”
“The one you have hidden somewhere in that big carpetbag,” Caleb said, turning away from Willow, walking back toward camp.
“How did you know?” she asked, dazed.
“Easy. Gold-hunting fools always draw maps for other fools to follow.”
The savagery in Caleb’s voice startled Willow. She stared after him uncertainly before she followed.
When she arrived in camp, Caleb was stirring the ashes of their breakfast fire. He didn’t even look up as she went to the unwieldy carpetbag that was her only luggage and began rummaging through its contents. He didn’t look at her when she ripped apart a section of lining and withdrew a folded piece of paper. He didn’t look at her at all until she walked slowly up to the fire, map in hand.
“I would have showed you sooner,” Willow said quietly, “but the map really isn’t much help.”
Caleb gave her a sideways glance that could have peeled bark from a living tree. “You didn’t trust me and we both know it.”
Color flared on her cheekbones. “It wasn’t my secret to tell. It was Matt’s, and he said not to show the map to anyone. But I’m showing it to you now.” She thrust the paper into his hands. “Here. Look at it. You won’t find much I didn’t already tell you. Matt never was a trusting kind of person. He made it so no one could steal the map and get any use of it. Unfortunately, I can’t get much use of it either.”
Saying nothing, Caleb took the map, opened it, and glanced quickly over the paper. The major landmarks were easy enough to recognize, the rivers and the clustered mountains of the San Juan country. Various passes into the heart of the country were marked, but no one pass was preferred over another. Whether someone started in California, Mexico, Canada, or east of the Mississippi, routes into the San Juans had been laid out to follow.
Caleb looked at Willow questioningly.
“Matt didn’t know for sure where anyone was,” she explained. “The letter came to our biggest farm with instructions to forward it wherever the Moran brothers were. I copied the letter and sent it to the last address I had for each of my brothers.”
“Where was that?”
“Australia, California, the Sandwich Isles, and China. But that informati
on was years old. They could be anywhere now, even back in America.”
Caleb raised his eyebrows and looked again at the map. He grunted. “Your brother is a good hand at drawing maps.” Caleb frowned. “But he left off one detail. Where the hell is his base camp?”
“It isn’t marked as far as I could see.” Willow took a deep breath. “I think Matt was so cautious because he found gold.”
“I expect so. Some damn fool usually does.”
Willow stared, unable to believe the indifference in Caleb’s voice. “Do you have something against finding gold?”
He shrugged. “I’d rather raise cattle. When the going gets rough, you can eat them. You can’t eat gold.”
“You can use it to buy food,” Willow pointed out rather tartly.
“Sure. Unless you get yourself shot in the back by some gunnie who figures it’s easier to jump your claim than to stake his own.” Cold topaz eyes pinned Willow. “I’ve seen gold camps. They have the stink of Hell about them. Nothing but greed and killing and whores.”
“Matthew isn’t like that. He’s every bit as decent as you are.”
Caleb said nothing, but his mouth thinned at being compared to the man who had seduced and abandoned Rebecca. He stared broodingly at the map. At one point, deep in the heart of the San Juans, five meticulously drawn triangles had been placed to indicate various mountain peaks. Despite the fact that there were many more mountains in the area, no more triangles appeared.
Across the map was written, Make a fire and I’ll come. Beneath it was a line of Spanish. Caleb translated it silently. Three points, two halves, one gathering.
Willow stepped close and saw that he was looking at the writing.
“That was another thing I couldn’t figure out,” Willow said. “Why would Matt write the line in Spanish?”
“Do you know Spanish?”
“No.”
“Maybe that’s why,” Caleb said flatly.
He looked at the triangles again. Willow followed his intent, tawny glance.
“Where are we supposed to build the fire?” she asked after a minute. “Any one of those triangles could be his camp.”
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