He was a stranger, blast it. She couldn’t possibly be so emotionally involved with a stranger. His dynamic vitality and bold, rakish charm had merely captured her imagination. His sexual attraction for her had caught her off guard and she mustn’t mistake chemistry for something deeper. A man like Daniel must have eager women standing in line to crawl into his bed. How could she compete with them when she didn’t even know if she could respond sexually to any man? Yet Daniel wasn’t just any man. She had melted like a snowball tossed into a bonfire when he had touched her-that was the final healing, according to Dr. Melrose. He had been so coolly clinical when he had made his recommendation to respond freely if she ever did feel that flare of sexual attraction. The possibility had seemed so remote that she had listened indifferently at the time, but now…What if Daniel were offering her nothing but a physical rapport that might last only a few weeks? If he took from her, he might also be giving more than he could ever imagine. The final healing that would make her a whole woman at last.
She dropped to her knees on the ground beside the backpack, her fingers fumbling at the straps. She instinctively shied away from the realization of what that healing would bring. She wouldn’t think, she would only feel while she was with Daniel. She would flow with the tide. She could rely on him to see that she wouldn’t drown in that sea of emotion. There was a warm sensitivity beneath his surface hardness that she intuitively trusted.
She swiftly shed the shirt Daniel had draped around her shoulders and slipped on the blue cotton workshirt from the backpack. It felt crisp and clean against her skin and smelled faintly of lime and tobacco. She rummaged through the backpack. There was bread and cheese wrapped in a cloth, a large battery-operated lantern together with a packet of extra batteries, a white undershirt, a box of ammunition for the rifle, a folded silver-coated sheet, a wicked-looking machete. In all, a very workmanlike, efficient emergency backpack. Like Daniel himself: Practical, lethal, and efficient.
“Pass me that machete, will you?” Daniel asked from behind her. He unslung his rifle and handed it to her in exchange for the machete. “I’ve found a dead tree we can use. It will take only fifteen or twenty minutes to drag up enough branches to cover the opening.”
“May I help?”
“No, you stay here.” He turned back as a thought struck him. “Do you know how to use this rifle?”
“I’m pretty good with a Browning automatic. David’s father taught me how to shoot at the ranch. I don’t know how I’d get along with this one.” She made a face. “This is one of those rifles that doubles as a machine-gun, isn’t it?”
He nodded. “An M-1. You just adjust the cartridge lever and pull the trigger back.” He turned away again. “Keep a sharp eye, Annie Oakley. I’ll be back soon.”
3
There was no way the interior of the cave could be made to appear inviting. But with the silvery camping sheet covering the rocky floor and the large utility lantern lit, it wasn’t quite as frightening as before. However, nothing could take away the air of claustophrobic closeness of the small area.
“Zilah, dammit, where are you?” Daniel’s voice outside the cave held both exasperation and a trace of panic.
“In here,” she called as she laid out the bread and cheese on the silver sheet. “Dinner is served. Though I’d definitely prefer it al fresco. Are you sure we can’t forget about this darn cave and sleep outside? I don’t like it.”
“I’m sure,” he said curtly. He was crawling through the opening and suddenly the cave seemed even smaller. “I’ve camouflaged the entrance pretty thoroughly. It should be hidden from view unless someone is right on top of it.” He had reached the sheet now and sat down tailor-fashion opposite her.
“Can we keep the lantern on? It makes it a little more cheerful.”
“For a little while. I brought some spare batteries for it.”
“I noticed.” She picked up a flat piece of bread and took a bite. It was a little dry but the texture was satisfying. “Are you always so well equipped when you go on one of these assignments?”
“Always. I learned a long time ago you have to be prepared for the unexpected to happen. It usually does.” He moved his shoulders as if to shrug off a weight. “God, it’s close in here.”
“That’s what I said, if you’ll recall.” She took another bite of bread. “I’d be much happier outside.”
“But not safer. You’re better off here.” He picked up a slice of the goat cheese. “We’ll just have to forget about it. Talk to me. Did you like living on that ranch in Texas?”
“Oh, yes, it was wonderful,” she said softly. “I’d never been to the country before David sent me there. I’d spent my entire childhood with my grandmother in Marasef and knew nothing but city life. I loved the space and the freedom. I could breathe there.” Her expression was suddenly alive with eagerness. “And the horses. I loved the horses. Jess gave me the loveliest palomino for my eighteenth birthday.”
“Jess?”
“David’s father. He taught me to ride and to rope and…”
“Where was your David during all this activity?”
“In Sedikhan. He and Billie have visited with us a few times since I left Zalandan, but their home is here.” The eagerness in her face suddenly faded. “I was telling you the truth, you know. David is my friend, not my lover. Do you believe me?”
“I believe you.” His lips twisted. “Maybe because I want to so damn much. You have to admit it’s an odd set-up though. How many men would acquire a fourteen-year-old ‘protégée’ without ulterior motives? Particularly one who looks like you. What did your mother say about his whisking you out of the country?”
“She wasn’t happy, but she realized it was for the best.” Her eyes dropped to the silver sheet and her words came haltingly. “I was very ill at the time. They thought I’d do better in Texas.”
“Ill?”
She nodded. “But I’m well now.” She glanced quickly at the uneaten slice of cheese in his hand. “You’re not eating. Aren’t you hungry?”
“Not very.” He picked up the canteen and took a swallow of water. “Being surrounded by walls makes me edgy. It’s a little quirk of mine.” He offered the canteen to her, and when she shook her head, he recapped it and set it down. “Are you finished?”
“Yes.” She was carefully rewrapping the bread and cheese. “I’ve had enough. Hassan gave me some fruit this morning for breakfast.” She frowned worriedly. “You think they’re out there searching for us?”
“Definitely.”
She made a face. “Honesty is all very well, but I could have used a little comforting prevarication at the moment.”
“Prevarication, no, comfort, yes.” He rose to his knees and pulled her swiftly into his arms. “I could use a little comfort myself.” His lips were nuzzling at her throat. “You feel like velvet and you taste…” His tongue licked delicately at the pulse in her throat. “Delicious.”
She chuckled. “Is this what you categorize as comfort?” He nipped gently at the soft flesh beneath her chin and she felt an odd throbbing start in the tips of her breasts as if he’d pulled a secret erotic wire. “It doesn’t feel very comfortable to me.”
“Then you’ll have to settle for pleasant.” There was a flicker of mischief in the glance he gave her. “You have to admit that this is quite pleasant.” His big hands were suddenly cupping her breasts, weighing and toying with them through the cotton of the shirt. She gasped and she could hear him give a low laugh. “Pleasant?”
“Remind me to buy you a dictionary,” she whispered. “That’s not the right word either.”
His index finger was tracing the whorl of her nipple through the shirt, and she could feel herself hardening and peaking more with each circle of that teasing fingertip.