Only His

11

Willow awoke with the sun in her face and the sound of Ishmael’s frantic whinny ringing in her ears. Heart pounding, she sat up suddenly. It took her a moment to remember where she was — in a tiny hanging valley on the western slope of the Great Divide. The whole valley was barely three hundred acres of grass surrounded on three sides by steep, forested ridges. The fourth side fell away so sharply that the stream was as much a waterfall as a cascade.

«Caleb?»

No one answered Willow’s call. Belatedly, she remembered that Caleb had left long before first light, riding Trey and seeking the four mares that hadn’t found their way into the valley by moonrise. She had wanted to go with him, but had fallen after she took three steps. He had carried her back to the blankets. She had dreamed she was following him and had wept each time she awakened to find herself alone and her mares lost.

Now Willow could sleep no more. She crawled out of the bedroll, picked up the shotgun Caleb had left for her, and went to see what was bothering Ishmael. The angle of the sun told her that it was mid-afternoon. She had slept all night and most of a day.

Ishmael snorted and tugged against his picket rope, whinnying wildly.

«Take it easy, boy,» Willow said, glancing in the direction the stallion was staring. «What is it?»

The stallion’s call split the silence again.

Riding on the wind came an answering cry. A few minutes later three of the missing mares walked wearily into the meadow. Willow took the stallion off the picket rope and led him to a rock. Shotgun in hand, she leaped from the rock onto the stallion’s bare back. Instants later, he was cantering eagerly toward the mares, nickering a welcome. Willow stared at the forest beyond the three mares but saw no sign of Caleb, his big Montana horse, or Dove, the only mare still missing.

With rising uneasiness, Willow waited while Ishmael sniffed over the mares, assuring himself that they were indeed the same ones he had lost. After a few moments, the mares began cropping grass ravenously, ignoring the delighted stallion.

«Ishmael, that’s enough. Let’s go see what happened to Caleb.»

Willow had no sooner reached the edge of the meadow when Ishmael’s ears pricked and he whinnied softly. An answering whinny came from the forest. Trey trotted into the open. A page from Caleb’s journal had been torn out and tied to the saddle horn. Willow worked the paper free and opened it.

I’m walking Dove in. The other mares perked up and started tugging to be free as soon as they got below nine thousand feet. They were headed in the right direction so I turned them loose, and Trey, too. Give them some grain.

Dove is done in, but still game. I’ll stay with her as long as she’s standing.

Tears scalded Willow’s cheeks at the thought of her tired mare. Dove, more than any of the horses, had borne Willow’s weight through the long days on the trail. That was why she was so exhausted now.

A glance at the angle of the sun told Willow she had better get to work despite the tiredness that sapped her strength. The valley was more than eight thousand feet high — lower than Black Pass, but nowhere near as low as she was accustomed to. She led Trey to the campsite, stripped gear from him, and turned him loose in the meadow. While she poured out grain for the horses, he rolled in the thick grass, drank deeply from the stream, and fell to eating grain as though starved. She knew how the horse felt. It had been more than a day since she had eaten, and then it had been only a bit of jerky.

Caleb would be ravenous when he returned, for he had taken no food with him.

Working as quickly as she could, stopping from time to time to catch her breath, Willow dragged the saddles and packs in under the overhanging cliff that protected the campsite on one side. She dragged downed wood into camp, started a fire, rigged a tripod for cooking, fetched water, andflet as though she had been running uphill carrying a pack. She had long since abandoned her heavy jacket and Levis. Now she unlaced the buckskin shirt, unbuttoned the flannel beneath, and thought longingly of a bath. But there were too many other things to be done and not enough time before the sun set behind the looming peaks.

Just as the last shaft of light abandoned the high valley, Caleb and Dove emerged in the meadow, startling deer that had drifted out of cover to feed near the horses. After a few seconds the deer resumed browsing. It had been so long since they had been hunted by man they had lost much of their fear of humans.

Dove didn’t notice the deer or anything but the grass and water. She nudged Caleb’s hand, asking to be released from the pressure on the halter that had kept her walking long after she wanted to stop. Caleb stroked her neck, spoke softly to her, and released her to join the other mares.

Willow grabbed the canteen, poured in coffee, snatched up a handful of fresh biscuits, and hurried across the meadow. She was breathless by the time she reached Caleb, who had just finished pouring out some grain for Dove.

«Is she all right?» Willow asked.

«Played out, but nothing that rest and food won’t cure. Her breathing doesn’t rattle, so her wind wasn’t broken.»

«Thank God,» breathed Willow. She held out the canteen and biscuits. «Here. You must be starved. Thank you for getting the mares. I dreamed I was going back for them, but when I woke up I was still here and I didn’t know how I could —»

Caleb drew Willow close and kissed her. When he straightened, he was smiling despite the exhaustion that lined his face. He made a sound of enjoyment and licked his lips.

«You taste like coffee and biscuits,» he said teasingly. «And something else…»

«Venison stew,» she admitted, laughing despite the color flooding her cheeks. «I cooked up what was left.»

«You taste like heaven,» he corrected, brushing his lips over her mouth again. «Sheer, sweet heaven.»

Caleb stretched and yawned, trying to revive himself. Willow uncapped the canteen and held it out. The rich aroma of coffee drifted up. He took the canteen and drank deeply. The liquid was strong and black and hot enough to steam. He made a thick sound of pleasure and drank again, feeling warmth expand through him like a second sunrise. He took a biscuit, popped it whole into his mouth, and chewed. Two more biscuits disappeared in the same manner, to be washed down by more coffee.

«Come to camp,» Willow said softly. Her clear hazel eyes measured Caleb’s exhaustion in the slowing of his reflexes and the darkness beneath his tawny eyes. «You’ve barely slept in days. Eat some hot stew and sleep. I’ll stand guard.»

«No need,» he said, yawning again. «See those deer?»

She nodded.

«We’re the first people they’ve ever seen,» Caleb said.

«But I saw the marks of other fires against the cliff.»

«They burned a long, long time ago, before the Spanish brought horses. At least, that’s what my daddy figures, and he knew more about Indians and wild land than any man alive.» Caleb’s eyes searched the heights that all but surrounded the small valley. «He figured he was the only man in centuries to see this place.»

«Why did the Indians abandon it?»

«Horses, I imagine. From what I read in the journal, the trail out of here is almost as rough as the one over the top. Fine for a man on foot who’s used to altitude, but damned hard on a horse.» Caleb smiled crookedly. «It’s quicker and a damn sight easier to use lower passes and let a horse do the work. Man is a lazy creature, given the chance.»

«You aren’t,» Willow said. «If it weren’t for you, my mares would be stranded in the rocks on the other side of the pass.»

«They came too far to let them go,» Caleb said simply. «How is Deuce?»

«He must have strained his left foreleg when he went down after being shot. It’s swollen below the knee.»

«Is he putting weight on it?»

«He favors it, but he moves more easily since I bound it with cloth from my riding habit.»

Caleb grunted. «Best use for the damn thing. What about the bullet burn?»

«I was afraid it would be infected, but it looks as clean as that brook going through the meadow.»

«Daddy was right about that, too,» Caleb said, yawningagian. «Not much gets infected up here. Something about the thin air, I guess, or the lack of human beings. How much of that stew did you leave for me?»

«About two quarts.»

«I’ll eat slowly so you can cook more.»

She smiled and took his hand, leading him toward the campsite. «I made lots and lots of biscuits.»

In camp, Willow watched from the corner of her eye as Caleb made short work of the stew, biscuits, coffee, and wild greens.

«No trout?» he asked lazily, mopping up the last bit of gravy with the last biscuit.

Willow smiled and shook her head. «They all ran from me.»

«Guess I’ll just have to teach you how to catch them all over again, won’t I?»

Color burned on Willow’s cheeks as she remembered the last time Caleb had told her how to catch trout.

«Don’t worry, honey,» he said, stretching out on the bedroll. «Right now I’m too done in to sneak up on my own shadow.»

Caleb was asleep before he took another breath. Willow waited until he was sleeping too deeply to be disturbed. Then she pulled off his boots, eased hisgunbelt and hunting knife off his hips, and covered him with the thick blankets. She wrapped up thegunbelt and placed it within reach, exactly as he would have done if he hadn’t been too tired.

Willow put the shotgun close to her side of the bed and crawled in next to Caleb. Even though the sun had been gone from the valley floor less than half an hour, it was already chilly. The heat radiating from Caleb was wonderful, luring Willow closer and closer until she sighed and relaxed against his big body. He shifted, drawing her even more tightly against himself, holding her as though he, too, was cold. Smiling, holding him in return, Willow fell asleep with the familiar feel of Caleb’s heartbeat beneath her cheek.

WILLOW awakened on her side, tucked spoon fashion against Caleb, her head on his upper arm, his chest warming her back, her bottom snug in the cradle of his thighs…and one of her breasts cupped in his right hand, which had slid between buckskin and flannel to seek the silky warmth beneath.

When Willow realized the intimacy of Caleb’s touch, her heart turned over. She froze, caught between the knowledge that she should retreat and the pleasure of lying so close with Caleb while sunshine poured into the tiny valley, filling it to overflowing with golden light.

After a few minutes, Willow’s heartbeat settled down, but not the sensations that glittered over her without warning, shortening her breathing and tightening the breast within Caleb’s grasp until the hard nipple nuzzled against the center of his broad palm. An odd ache claimed her, a desire to arch against his palm like a cat being stroked. The feeling was so strong and so unexpected that she held her breath, wondering what was wrong with her. She tried to ease free of his hand withoutdistrubing him, but he was too deeply tangled in her clothes.

Half awakened by Willow’s cautions retreat, Caleb made a low, sleepy sound and gathered her more closely against himself. His free hand moved, seeking the warmth and silk of her body but settling for the soft weight of her other breast muffled beneath layers of clothes.

Willow’s breath wedged firmly in her throat as she felt herself cupped and cuddled through clothing until that breast, too, tightened in an aching rush. She shivered, fighting the desire to twist slowly against Caleb’s hands, increasing the pressure of his touch on her breasts.

I must be losing mymind, Willowthought, shivering.

Breathing shallowly, not wanting to move for fear of waking Caleb and embarrassing both of them, Willow lay stiffly and waited for the normal movements Caleb made while asleep to remove her from the unintentional, sensual cage of his embrace.

Release didn’t come. Tension did. Unable to bear it any longer, Willow eased the blanket off her body as the first step toward freeing herself. But removing the blanket was a mistake. The sight of one of Caleb’s big hands on her breast and the other hand buried deep between rawhide laces and through a gap in her flannel top made Willow forget to breathe. Frantically she closed her eyes. After the first rush of embarrassment passed, she opened her eyes again.

Nothing had changed. The contrast between his tan hand and the whiteness of her own skin was as vivid as before. The difference between the lean strength of his fingers and the soft fullness of her breast was still…

Exciting.

Iamlosingmy mind.

Willow told herself she should either get out of bed or pull the blanket up once more and spare herself the sight of Caleb’s hand tangled so intimately in her clothes. She did neither. She simply lay motionless except for the ripples of sensation washing through her with each breath, each unintentional stirring of her breasts against Caleb’s hands.

A bird called sweet melodies from the rocks and was answered from the far side of the meadow. A breeze brushed through tall grass, making a sound like spirits breathing. Sunlight caressed the land as surely as Willow was being caressed with every breath she took. Caleb shifted again, drawing her even closer, cupping his hand more deeply around her naked breast beneath her clothes.

Air came from Willow’s lungs in a rush. Very carefully, she eased Caleb’s right hand from her chest to her buckskin-clad hip. Then she slid her own hand inside her bodice in an attempt to remove Caleb’s other hand without awakening him. There simply wasn’t enough room for her hand as well as his inside the closely fitting buckskin.

Holding her breath, she picked the buckskin laces free of their holes and unfastened the flannel top beneath until it was completely open. The buckskin lacings, however, opened only to her ribs, which left her little maneuvering room. It would have to be enough.

Slowly, Willow slid her fingers over Caleb’s hand and tugged ever so gently. His hand moved against her naked breast, sending his hard palm rubbing over her nipple. A burst of heat licked through her, making her breath catch in a tiny moan. Her back arched in sensual reflex, repeating the caress, caressing his hand in turn. Biting her lower lip, Willow pulled gently at Caleb’s hand again, trying to free herself without awakening him. He muttered sleepily and tightened his grip on her once again, trapping her taut nipple between his fingers.

The small, ragged sound Willow made brought Caleb fully awake. He felt the lithe curve of her bodysnugged against his own, the fullness of her hip beneath one of his hands and the naked silk of her breast nestled in his other. Smiling, he flexed both hands, enjoying the very feminine feel of Willow’s body.

«Caleb?» Willow asked fearfully, a bare thread of sound. «You — you aren’t awake, are you?»

«I’m getting there.»

The heat of her blush was so violent he felt it suffuse her breasts.

«I didn’t mean to awaken you,» she whispered. «I–I was just trying to — to move your hand.»

«This one?» Caleb asked, spreading his hand over her buttock and squeezing gently, deeply.

Willow’s breath broke. «No — I mean, yes, but mostly the other one.»

«The other one?» Caleb smiled into her hair. «Where is it? I can’t see.»

«I can, and that’s the problem.» Willow heard her own words and wanted to groan.

«You can, huh? So tell me where it is.»

«Caleb Black, you know very well where your hand is!»

«How could I? It’s asleep,» he lied, smiling and searching through Willow’s hair for the sensitive nape of her neck. «So I can’t move it until I know where it is. Tell me, honey.»

«On my — on my —» Her voice broke.

«Shoulder?» Caleb offered.

She shook her head.

Willow’s hair slid aside, revealing her nape. His mouth settled over it, kissing gently, nibbling softly. He felt every bit of the sensual shivering that ran through her body. An answering heat flowed through him. He had never held a woman who was so responsive to his least caress.

«Is my hand on your ribs?» Caleb asked deeply, running his teeth over Willow’s nape again, feeling her shiver, wanting to groan with the sweet agony of his own need.

«N-not my ribs,» she whispered, barely able to think.

«Your waist?»

But this time Willow couldn’t speak at all, for Caleb’s teeth had closed on her nape in a tender, fierce caress that made thought impossible. She closed her eyes and tried not to cry out with the surprise and pleasure coiling through her, tightening her whole body. When his fingers closed delicately on her nipple, plucking the taut flesh, she moaned.

«Now I see what the problem is,» Caleb said, propping himself on his elbow so that he could look over Willow’s shoulder.

«What?» she whispered.

«This.» His hand flexed beneath her clothes and her back arched. «See? We’re all tangled in your clothes. Lie still, honey. I’ll get us free.»

Holding her breath and blushing, Willow watched Caleb with smoky hazel eyes and waited. His hand moved beneath the flannel, cupping all of her breast while his thumb drew lazy circles around her nipple. Her whole body stiffened.

«Easy, honey,» he murmured. «Am I hurting you?»

Willow made an odd sound at the back of her throat when his thumb rubbed the hard peak of her breast. He smiled and rubbed again, loving the velvet hardness that rose so eagerly to his touch.

«Almost free,» Caleb said. Slowly, he shifted Willow onto her back, caressing her with slow sweeps of his thumb. «Gently, honey, just a little more and you’ll be free. Shift your shoulder a little. Yes, like that. Now take a slow, deep breath. That’s it.» A shudder ran through his body as he looked down at her uncovered breast. «God, you’re beautiful, as perfect as a rosebud.»

Caleb bent down to Willow’s breast, turning his head slowly from side to side, letting the coarse silk of his beard caress her soft flesh, tightening her nipple even more. She gasped and grabbed his head.

«Yes,» he said thickly. «Show me what you want.»

Shocked and embarrassed, she tried to tug his head away, but her motions caused her erect nipple to brush against his lips.

«Yes,» he said. «That’s what I want, too.»

Caleb took the tip of Willow’s breast into his mouth as his hands tightened, making it impossible for her to move away while he caressed her with tongue and teeth. A strange, wild sensation speared through Willow, drawing a choked cry from her.

«Honey?» Caleb asked huskily, looking up. «Did I hurt you?»

«We shouldn’t — shouldn’t be doing this.»

Caleb closed his eyes and fought the denial surging through him, a denial as fierce as the hunger he had for the girl whose breast lay against his lips.

«Did I hurt you?» he asked again.

As he spoke, he blew on the nipple that was still glistening from his mouth. The soft rush of air over Willow’s breast made her stomach tighten. Her hips moved in a reflexive response she didn’t understand.

Caleb did.

«Tell me, Willow.» He kissed the tight rosebud he had drawn from her breast. «Did I hurt you?»

Willow tried to speak but couldn’t. She shook her head.

«Did you like it?» he asked.

Heat suffused her face. She turned her head against his chest, hiding from him.

Very gently, Caleb smoothed his bearded cheek over her breast once more before he turned away, not certain if his discipline would stand against the sight of her bare, soft breast nestled between buckskin folds, her nipple hard and rosy with the heat of his mouth.

«It’s all right, honey. I won’t force you.»

Caleb got up and went to the fire. After a few minutes, Willow joined him. They ate breakfast in a silence that wasn’t quite uncomfortable. He didn’t mention the morning intimacy of the bed. Nor would he let her talk about it. He was afraid she would try to refuse him the honey and cream of her body in the future. He wouldn’t — couldn’t — let that happen.

Shy, wary little trout. It’s been so long since she has felt a man’s touch. All I need is patience and she’ll swim right into my hands. I’ve always been told I’m a patient man. Why is it so hard to be patient with her?

Why is it so hard, period? Calebasked himselfimpatiently. I’llbe lucky to stand up straight all day.

Willow watched Caleb shyly from beneath her lashes as he moved around the camp, putting the supplies back into pack sacks, checking cinches and headstalls, making certain that the long ride hadn’t frayed anything other than flesh and bone. When he walked out into the meadow with a new bag of grain, she went beside him.

A whistle brought Trey trotting and Deuce limping up for inspection. Caleb poured out two mounds of grain and worked over his horses while they ate, checking hooves and hide for damage, talking soothingly the whole time, praising his horses’ stamina and gentle temper. Willow watched, fascinated by Caleb’s easy strength and masculine grace. The restraint and precision of his hands also fascinated her. He was so gentle that Deuce didn’t even flinch when his wound was checked, yet Caleb did a thorough job of inspection.

«Still clean,» Caleb said quietly. He stroked the horse’s muscular shoulder, feeling the roughness of hair where lather had run and dried more than once. «I’d groom you, boy, but I suspect you would rather be left alone for a day or two. Don’t blame you a bit. That was one hell of a trail.»

One of the mares caught the scent of grain on the wind and trotted up, nickering softly. Caleb smiled and tugged gently on her forelock.

«Hello, Penny. Feeling better after a night of eating?» he asked.

Penny nudged the grain sack pointedly.

Willow laughed. «Quit torturing her. She knows what’s waiting for her.»

Caleb gave Willow a sideways look and a slow smile.

«Waiting just makes it better, didn’t you know?»

Wisely, Willow kept her mouth shut, but nothing she did could conceal her blush. She shivered as she recalled the passion she had tasted that morning.

Ishmael cantered across the valley toward them. His ears were erect, his stride easy and even, his body supple.

«He looks good,» Caleb said.

«He’s breathing a bit too hard.»

«Altitude. He’ll be fine in a week or two.»

«It’s getting from here to there that bothers me,» Willow admitted, sighing and rubbing her temples.

Caleb began pouring out more mounds of grain as the Arabians closed in, lured by the rich aroma.

«We’ll take it easy until you’re used to the altitude,» he said.

«Only twelve hours a day on the trail instead of eighteen?» Willow muttered beneath her breath.

But Caleb heard. His hearing was as acute as a deer’s. He glanced up and saw Willow standing with her eyes closed, rubbing her temples. He shook out a few more kernels of grain, tied the top with a leather thong, and set the burlap bag aside before he went back to Willow.

«Headache?» he asked quietly.

She lowered her hands almost guiltily. «Just a little. It’s much better than it was in the pass.»

«Here. Let me.»

Whatever objections Willow might have had vanished at the slow, circular motion of Caleb’s thumbs on her temples.

«Relax if you can,» he said. «The tighter your muscles are, the more it hurts.»

Willow made a small sound that was more an expression of enjoyment than a word as Caleb slid his fingers over her head and massaged her scalp, loosening knots she didn’t even know she had. Strong, gentle, skillful, his hands rubbed away pain until she sagged with relief. With small pressures of his fingertips, he urged her closer until she was all but leaning against him. Her forehead dipped farther and farther, finally coming to rest against his breastbone.

Belatedly, Willow realized that Caleb had opened his shirt against the heat of the mountain sun. Her forehead was resting on his bare, warm flesh. The dark thatch of hair on his chest tickled her nose and mouth. When she breathed in, the scent of wool shirt and horse and man filled her senses. She sighed and rubbed her face against him, liking the feel of his masculine textures on her cheek.

«That feels so good,» Willow said, moving her head slowly, increasing the pressure of Caleb’s hands rubbing away pain.

«Good,» he said, enjoying the warmth of her breath against his bare skin.

For a time there was silence. Then Willow sighed again and spoke.

«I’ll never be able to repay you.»

He laughed. «I’ll let you rub my head in return.»

«I meant for my mares. Thank you, Caleb.»

«They were too good to lose over something that wasn’t their fault.»

«I know,» she said simply. «It was mine.»

Caleb smoothed the back of his fingers over Willow’s temples. «You didn’t build these mountains, honey. God did.»

She smiled sadly. «But I hired a mountain guide and then refused to listen to his advice. I came very close to killing my beautiful mares who had done nothing except follow where I led them. They would have died if you hadn’t gone back for them. I couldn’t have done it. I tried, but…» Her voice broke.

«Hush, honey. It’s not your fault.»

She shook her head and whispered, «I wasn’t strong enough. You were. You didn’t have to go after them, but you went anyway, even though you’d had hardly any sleep in days.»

Caleb’s hands hesitated on Willow’s temples, then he resumed slowly stroking her forehead. Her willingness to accept responsibility for the choices she made continued to surprise him. He had known few men and fewer women who didn’t pass the blame when things turned out badly and grab the praise when things went well.

The longer Caleb was around Willow, the more he realized she wasacustomed to taking care of herself and anyone else who was nearby. She was a far cry from the spoiled southern lady he had first thought her to be.

God must have been asleep when He let Willow go to a heel like Reno. She’s too damn good for him. She can’t know what Reno’s like or she never would have given herselftohim. I’ll be doing her a favor when I bury that son of a bitch.

She’ll be my woman before she sees him again. I’m not leaving this valley until Willow is mine in a way that nothing can change, not even the death of her fancy man.

«Thank you for my mares, Caleb,» Willow repeated quietly, resting her head against his chest. «I owe you more than I can ever repay.»

«Willow,» Caleb whispered.

She opened her eyes and tilted her head back until she could see him. The glints of color in her hazel depths had never seemed more beautiful to Caleb than at that moment.

«You saved my life when Deuce was shot,» he said. «You brought me ammunition and fought beside me afterward. You don’t owe me anything at all.»

«And how many times have you saved my life since we left Denver?»

«That’s different.»

«It is?»

«Yes.» Caleb bent and brushed a kiss over Willow’s lips. «That’s what you hired me to do.»

«You’re very good at your work…and at other things as well.»

Willow had been thinking of his care for the horses, but the instant the words were out of her mouth, she thought of other things he was breathtakingly good at. Color flooded her cheeks.

Caleb smiled crookedly and teased her lips with the tip of his tongue. «Really?» he asked. «What things are those?»

«You know very well what they are,» she muttered.

«No, I don’t,» he said, shaking his head. The motion brushed kisses over her mouth. «Tell me.»

Willow looked away and wished she would learn to think before she spoke. She had never been particularly impulsive before she met Caleb. But since she had met him, she was forever admitting to things that made her blush.

«I bet it’s that I’m good at finding riding clothes for you in the middle of nowhere,» Caleb suggested.

Willow’s lips quirked in a small smile. She looked up at Caleb through long, dark amber eyelashes. «That’s one of the things.»

«And finding saddles.»

Her smiled widened. «Yes.»

«And catching trout.»

Color stained her cheekbones.

«Is that it, Willow?» Caleb asked. His hands moved from her temples to just below her ribs. His muscles shifted and flexed as he lifted her slowly until she was at eye level. «Is that one of the things you think I’m good at? Catching trout?»

She nodded and said huskily, «You’re especially good at that.»

For the space of several heartbeats Caleb looked hungrily at Willow’s full pink lips. Then he bent and took them in a swift, searing kiss that made her stiffen in surprise. His tongue slid between her lips to the smooth surface of her clenched teeth.

«Open for me,» he whispered. «Let me taste all that warm honey.»

He nipped at her lower lip. When she gasped in surprise, he twisted his head and took her mouth, teasing her tongue with his own until she trembled between his hands. At last, she sighed and touched her tongue lightly, shyly along his, returning the kiss. Willow’s odd combination of reticence and response reminded Caleb of his promise to himself — that the next time he kissed Willow, it would be because she asked for him.

But he hadn’t been able to wait. Slowly, reluctantly, cursing the passion Willow aroused so effortlessly in him, Caleb lifted his head. When he opened his eyes, she was watching his lips with wonder.

«Is kissing one of the things I’m good at?» Caleb asked hungrily.

Willow turned a shade of pink that was as deep as her lips. «Caleb!»

«If I’m not good, tell me what I’m doing wrong. I want to please you, Willow. I want to pleasure you all the way to your soul. I want that,» he whispered against her mouth, «very much.»

The trembling of Willow’s lips beneath his own as she whispered his name was the sweetest thing Caleb had ever felt. Despite the hunger that poured in hot waves through his body, he made the kiss gentle, undemanding, taking nothing that she didn’t first give to him.

The chaste kiss surprised Willow, for she could feel the passionate tension in Caleb’s hard body. His restraint also reassured her, just as his willingness to stop touching her earlier had. Nor had he seemed angry when he stopped this morning. He had been angry the other time, when he had combed her hair and kissed her so deeply and touched the soft flesh no man had ever touched before. Stopping then had made him furious.

But not today. Today, Caleb wasn’t angry at all. Today, sunlight and honey ran in Willow’s veins.

Her hands went from the flexed strength of Caleb’s biceps to his shoulders. The wool of his shirt no longer pleased her fingers. She sought the living warmth beneath and sighed with pleasure to find it. Catlike, she kneaded his muscles, enjoying the feeling of the hair that grew in black swirls over his chest.

Caleb waited for Willow to open her lips, offering a more passionate kiss, but he waited in vain. She gave back a kiss as chaste as he had given to her, then she sighed and stroked and petted him until he wanted to groan. The feel of her delicate hands on his skin was setting him on fire, as was the obvious enjoyment she took in his body.

Yet she made no move to deepen the kiss, to join her mouth with his once again in a prelude to a more intimate kind of mating.

Puzzled, Caleb wondered if Reno was the kind of man who liked to hurt women in bed. That would explain Willow’s instant fear when she had felt Caleb’s hand between her legs, but it wouldn’t explain Rebecca’s persistence in protecting her lover’s identity. Rebecca had beencossetted and frankly spoiled. She had been full of mischief and love and life. A man who was cruel to her would never have won her heart, her chastity, and her loyalty. She would have required a gentleman before she gave herself.

Abruptly Caleb realized that he was no one’s definition of a gentleman, especially at the moment. He smelled of horses and hard work and clothes that had been worn too long. Willow didn’t. She smelled of lavender and meadow grass and sunshine. No wonder she was reluctant to get closer to him. Now that Caleb thought about it, he wasn’t real crazy about being close to himself, either.

«I’m good at something else, too,» Caleb said, lowering Willow to the ground and stepping back from her. «I’m a very special kind of water dowser.»

«You are?»

He made a rumbling sound of agreement. «I can find hot springs almost anywhere.»

The possibilities widened Willow’s eyes and distracted her from the disappointment of being released from Caleb’s arms so quickly.

«You can find hot water? Even here?»

«Especially here. My sixth sense tells me there’s a hot spring just off the head of the valley, and the pool is big enough to float in.»

She smiled, remembering the journal Caleb’s father had kept of his travels in the West. «You’re a wonder, Caleb Black.»

«Actually, I’m kind of slow to figure some things out, but I’m learning.»

«Want to flip a coin?»

He blinked. «Whatever for?»

«To see who gets the first bath.»

Caleb caught himself just before he said something foolish about bathingtogether. Rememberthe trout. Slow and sweet and easy. No sudden moves. No impatience. All the time in the world.

«You go first, honey. I’ll groom the horses.»

«That isn’t fair to you.»

«I like working with horses.»

«Then I’ll wash our clothes. Deal?» Willow asked, holding out her hand.

Caleb took it, brought it to his lips, and gently bit the pad of flesh at the base of Willow’s thumb. «Deal.»

He released her hand and began unbuttoning his shirt.

«What are you doing?» she asked.

«Taking off my clothes. Unless you planned to wash them with me still inside…?»

«Er, no.»

But the thought intrigued Willow. It showed in the deepening of color on her face. Caleb smiled and pulled off his shirt, enjoying the widening of Willow’s eyes and the flush in her cheeks when she looked at him. She might have been reluctant to make love with him, even afraid, but she made no effort to hide her approval of him as a man. It was one of the many paradoxes about Willow that both lured and baffled Caleb.

Curious about her response, Caleb began unfastening his pants. Willow made a shocked sound and jerked her glance back up to his face.

«Same problem as with the shirt,» Caleb said blandly.

Willow swallowed hard and said, «I’ll get you a blanket.»

She turned and ran across the grass toward camp with Caleb’s deep laughter following her every step of the way.