"I've never-been like this-before," Ten said thickly, his breath breaking. "Naked. Nothing held back. It's-I can't-"
He went utterly still, fighting desperately not to lose control.
"Tennessee," Diana whispered, looking into the silver blaze of his eyes, feeling the first waves of pleasure ravish her. "Give me your baby, Tennessee."
A sound of hunger and ecstasy was torn from Ten's throat, and then ecstasy alone, Diana's name repeated in shattered syllables as he gave himself again and again to the sweet violence of a union unlike any he had ever known.
16
Thunder cracked with a noise like rock shearing away from tall cliff faces, a naked violence of sound that made September Canyon tremble in the night.
Ten eased out of the blankets he shared with Diana and went to stand at the edge of the overhang. The chilly air took the heat from his body, but he barely noticed the temperature. The smell, taste and sound of the wind told him all that he needed to know. He and Diana would have to pack up and cross Picture Wash before dawn.
And Ten had counted on spending the hour before dawn quite differently.
"Damn."
"What's wrong?" Diana asked sleepily.
"Storm coming on. A big one."
By memory alone Ten went to the camp table, struck a match and lit the Coleman stove. The golden glow of naked flame danced in graceful reflections over the pale sandstone. He made coffee with the swift, economical motions of a man very familiar with the task. Then he walked to the warm blankets where Diana lay, grabbed his clothes and began dressing.
"Ten…?"
It was only a single word, but he understood all that she wasn't saying. Reluctantly he shook his head.
"Sorry, honey," Ten said, his voice gritty with hunger and regret. "We've got a lot of packing to do and not much time to do it."
Diana bit back her protest even as it formed. The storm didn't care if it were cutting short her last hours with Ten in September Canyon.
Silently she kicked off the blankets and began pulling on clothes, shivering as the cold wind washed over her body. Working by the light of a gas lantern, she packed quickly, forcing herself not to think how this day was different from any day that had come before or would come after.
As soon as Diana's personal gear was packed, she began working on the artifacts that were to be taken back to the ranch. She packed slowly, carefully, saying goodbye with her fingertips to the ancient pots and stone axes, fiber sandals and bone implements that she had come to know as well as she knew the less textured camping equipment of her own time and culture.
When each box was ready, she set it aside for Ten to carry to the truck. Periodic lightning shattered the black sky. Thunder rang repeatedly, a barrage that deafened. She ignored it, working steadily, thinking only of the task at hand. As she reached for another empty box, she found Ten's hand instead. Startled, she looked up.
''Leave it for the grads," he said in a clipped voice. "We have to cross while we can. It's raining Like hell up on September Mesa."
She looked out into the encompassing blackness and saw nothing at all. "How can you tell?"
"Listen."
At first Diana thought what she heard was the wind, a low, muttering kind of sound. Then she realized that she was hearing water. September Wash was filling.
"Is it still safe to cross?" she asked, unable to suppress the hope in her voice. If the wash weren't safe, they would be forced to stay on this side until the water went down.
As though Diana had spoken her hope aloud, Ten shook his head. "This is a big storm. Carla will fret and then Luke will send men out in hell's own rain to look for us. I don't want anyone getting hurt looking for people who could have and should have gotten back."
The sky exploded into twisting, wildly writhing forks of lightning. Barely four seconds later, thunder hammered down.
"Time to go, honey."
Diana closed her eyes against the pain that was lancing through her as surely as lightning lanced through the clouds.
Thunder filled September Canyon, followed by a gust of rain-scented wind that made pinons moan. No rain was falling, but there was no doubt that it would. Soon.
Ten opened the passenger door for Diana and helped her up into the cab. Her breast pressed against the lean male hand that was wrapped around her upper arm. Though the contact was accidental, it made every one of Diana's nerve endings shimmer. When she tried to fasten her seat belt, her hands were clumsy with the sudden rush of her blood.
Ten climbed in, saw Diana's difficulty and said, "Let me. That belt mechanism is getting kind of cranky. First you have to slack off and let it retract all the way. Like this."
He took the metal tongue from Diana's fingers, then followed the retreat of the harness across her lap. The sound of her indrawn breath was as much an inadvertent caress as his hand skimming across her body in the wake of the buckle's metal tongue. When he pulled the harness across her lap once more, his hand skimmed, hesitated for a breathless instant, then moved on. He inserted the metal tongue slowly into the locking mechanism. A subdued click broke the taut silence.
"See? Perfect fit." Ten's voice was low, gritty.
He touched Diana's mouth with his thumb and swore softly, wanting her. And she wanted him. It was in her eyes, in the tightness of her body, in the huskiness of the few words she had spoken. He gave her a quick, hard kiss and forced himself to concentrate on other things.
Ten drove to the wash, studied the roiling water carefully and bit off a vicious curse. There was no doubt about it, no ignoring it. The wash was definitely still safe to cross. He put the truck in gear and drove into the water. As soon as he reached the other side he spoke without looking at Diana.
"Hang on. I'm going to drive hard to get ahead of the storm."
The road was dry and familiar, its occasional vagaries and hazards well-known to Ten. He held the big truck to a punishing pace, boring through the predawn darkness, outrunning the storm outside the truck, ignoring the one within as long as he could.
Finally the truck climbed up for the long run across Wind Mesa. For a time the road snaked along the very edge of the highland, giving a breathtaking vista of predawn light locked in luminous embrace with a high, slowly seething lid of clouds. The tenuous light was eerie, astonishing, flawless, utterly without color.
Ten stopped the truck at a point where the road gave an uninterrupted view of the dark land below.
"We're at least an hour ahead of the rain," Ten said, releasing his seat belt. "Want some coffee?"
Diana made a murmurous sound of approval that could have meant the view, the idea of coffee or both.
By the dim illumination of the dashboard lights, Ten opened a thermos and poured coffee. A clean, rich fragrance filled the cab. He handed the half-full cup to Diana, who refused it with a shake of her head.
"You first," he insisted.
"Afraid of poison?" Diana asked huskily. She forced herself to smile, concealing the sadness that had grown greater with each mile flying beneath the truck's broad tires.
Ten's own smile flashed briefly. "No, but I've discovered that coffee tastes sweeter if you drink out of my cup before I do."
Diana said his name softly, then bent her head and sipped the hot liquid. Ten flicked off the lights, killed the engine and rolled down his window. Cool air breathed across the cab, air redolent of distance and unfettered land. In silence they passed the cup of coffee between them while spectral light slowly filled the space between clouds and earth, transforming everything, infusing the very air with radiance.