Only Love (27 page)

“She,” said Shannon. “Cherokee is a woman.”

“Judas H. Priest.” Whip shook his head in disbelief. “You sure?”

Shannon nodded.

“So stop worrying about me, yondering man,” she said in a low voice. “A woman can make it just fine alone, even all the way up Avalanche Creek.”

“No. You won’t survive the winter alone.”

There was no inflection in Whip’s voice, simply an absolute certainty that said more than any shouted tirade could have.

“I survived last winter,” Shannon said, “and the one before that, and the one before that.”

Whip tried to speak, couldn’t, and tried again.

“What do you mean?” he asked roughly.

“Silent John disappeared three winters ago.”

For a moment Whip was motionless. Then he shook himself as though he had been hit with a board.

He felt like he had.

“You’ve wintered alone here three times?” Whip asked harshly.

“Yes.”

Whip wanted to believe Shannon was lying, but he knew all the way to his soul that she wasn’t.

“Then Silent John must be dead,” Whip said.

Shannon nodded and closed her eyes. “He’s buried in a landslide up Avalanche Creek.”

“How long have you known?” Whip demanded angrily.

“I guessed he was probably dead the second winter. But I wasn’t truly certain until just a bit ago, when Cherokee told me she had backtracked Razorback to a fresh landslide when Silent John didn’t come back from the claims. His tracks went in, but none came out.”

“Then nothing’s holding you here but your own stubbornness,” Whip said.

“There’s nothing holding anyone to life but sheer stubbornness,” Shannon said wearily.

“You’re planning on staying here.”

Shannon nodded.

“Damn you!” Whip said roughly. “You’re trying to tie me down!”

“No! I’m just tell—”

“How can I leave you alone and helpless up here?” he asked, his eyes as hard as his voice. “I can’t and you know it! You’re counting on me to—”

“I’m not helpless!” Shannon interrupted. “I’m
not counting on you for one damned thing! I don’t need you!”

A turmoil of emotions twisted in Whip, tightening his throat, making it raw. The cold he had felt in the stream was nothing to the freezing emptiness that came to him when he thought of Shannon lying dead in the high country, her grave as unmarked as Silent John’s.

“The hell you don’t need me,” Whip said in a low, savage voice. “You nearly died out there today.”

For the space of two long breaths, Shannon looked at the man who was so close to her, yet so very far away. Lantern light made his hair burn like the sun and turned the icy clarity of his eyes into a quicksilver mystery. Nothing had ever called to Shannon the way Whip did. She would have given the blood from her body to see herself reflected in his eyes, in his heart, in his soul.

She would have sold her own soul to be a distant sunrise calling his name…and to hear him answer.

“Yes,” Shannon said calmly. “I could have died. But so what? The stars would have come out tonight and the sun would have risen tomorrow morning. The only difference would be that I wouldn’t see it.” She smiled oddly. “Not much difference, really. About the same as this.”

Shannon lifted her hand from the water. Liquid swirled and then flowed back as though her hand had never been there, never known the pool’s warmth.

Whip looked at the dark water and felt a dull knife sawing through his soul, cutting him in two.

“See?” she asked softly. “No real difference. Now do what the water did, Whip. Let me go.”

“You’re still shivering.”

“I’ll be fine as soon as I get some clothes on.”

“The water is warmer than those rags you wear.”

The protectiveness of Whip’s arms around Shannon said much more than his words did. He didn’t love her, but he cared about her safety.

It was a heady feeling to be cared for, to be cherished, to know that she wasn’t alone, if only for a time.

The temptation to give in and rest her head against Whip’s chest undermined Shannon’s determination to stand alone. She longed to lean against Whip’s heat and strength, to pull him around her like a living blanket, to warm herself with his abundant fire.

And then she remembered what Whip had said the last time she reached out for him.

Don’t touch me.

Echoes of shame and humiliation swept through Shannon in waves. Abruptly she pushed at Whip’s arms, trying to get free of him.

“What the hell?” Whip asked. “Why are you fighting me? You act like I’m going to rape you!”

Shannon made a sound that was almost laughter and not quite a sob.

“You wouldn’t have to rape me and you know it,” she said bitterly.

A shudder went through Whip.

“Dangerous words, honey girl.”

“Why? You don’t want me. You can’t even bear my touch.”

The pain and shame in Shannon’s voice shattered Whip’s restraint. He moved suddenly, scattering water in all directions as he captured one of her hands. He dragged her hand below the
warm surface of the water and pressed her fingers around the blunt, heavy proof of his hunger for her. His breath hissed in, then came out with a low groan.

“Now,” Whip said through his teeth, “tell me again that I don’t want you to touch me.
I’d kill to have you and you damn well know it.”

Shocked sapphire eyes looked at Whip.

“Then why do you keep pushing me away?” Shannon asked raggedly. “I’m not asking you to love me. I’m not begging you to stay with me. I just want…I just want to be alive, really
alive,
before I die. I’m a widow who was never a bride, and if you don’t take me I’ll go to my grave without knowing what it is to give myself to the man I love.”

Abruptly Whip dragged Shannon’s hand free of his aching flesh and released her.

“I can’t,” he said.

Shannon gave a broken laugh and ran her hand back down Whip’s body.

“You most certainly can,” she said.

Whip’s breath hissed as Shannon explored the rigid evidence of his capability.

“You’re a virgin,” he said through his teeth.

“I’m a widow.”

“I could make you pregnant.”

“I’d love to have your child.”

“I couldn’t leave if you were pregnant,” Whip said. “Is that what you want? To force me to stay?”

“No. You would hate me.”

“I’d hate
myself.
Oh, God…stop.”

Gently, relentlessly, Whip recaptured Shannon’s exploring hand and brought it to his lips. The kiss he gave her palm was fierce, edged with teeth. It sent a shaft of pure desire through Shannon’s body.

“What did you do with your other widows?” she asked in a husky voice.

A tinge of red appeared on Whip’s cheekbones.

“Honey girl, you ask the damnedest questions.”

“Were they all too old to get pregnant?” Shannon persisted.

Belatedly Whip realized that Shannon wasn’t asking for a detailed description of how he coupled with women. He let out a sigh, half laughing and half on fire at Shannon’s combination of innocence and breathtaking honesty.

“No, they weren’t too old to get pregnant,” Whip said. “They were old enough to know how
not
to get pregnant.”

“Celibacy.”

The disappointment in Shannon’s voice made Whip ache with laughter and a reckless kind of passion he had never known before he met her.

“There are other ways,” he said.

“Truly? What are they?”

“Not coupling.”

“Sounds like celibacy to me.”

Whip’s smile was slow and very male. “Not quite, honey girl. More like half a loaf. Like you under the tarpaulin with hail hammering down.”

A shudder of memory and anticipation went through Shannon.

“Is that what you want?” she asked.

“It’s a hell of a lot better than nothing.”

“But…”

“But?” Whip asked, gathering Shannon closer.

“I want to touch you, too. I want to make the world catch fire around you,” Shannon whispered, remembering how it had been for her. “I want to watch you burn. I want to pleasure you until you cry out and the world goes a hot kind of black
that’s shot through with all the colors of the rainbow.”

Whip’s heart kicked and blood slammed through his veins. He could barely force words past the heady rush of passion that was closing his throat.

“Did I make you feel like that, honey girl?”

“Yes,” she said in a low voice. “Only better. I don’t have words to tell you. Except…”

Whip nuzzled Shannon’s hair and made a questioning sound.

“I wanted more,” Shannon admitted. “I wanted to feel your body all hot and strong around me. I wanted…” Her voice faltered. “I don’t know what I wanted. I just knew that there was something missing.”

Every muscle in Whip’s body clenched at Shannon’s words. His breath wedged, then hissed out through his teeth.

He knew exactly what had been missing.

“Is that wrong of me?” Shannon asked when Whip didn’t speak.

“No, it’s not wrong,” Whip said huskily. “It’s damned wonderful. Some women are happy just to be petted a bit from time to time, but men want more.”

“Just a bit of petting? That’s all the women wanted?”

Whip made a rumbling sound of agreement.

Shannon frowned. “All the time?”

Whip’s teeth closed gently over the top of Shannon’s ear. He savored the shiver of awareness that went through her.

“Well, it’s certainly better than nothing,” she said finally. “But if the, er, whole loaf is at hand, why be satisfied with less?”

Whip laughed silently and wondered if a man
could die of desire while sitting naked in a hot spring with a virgin widow who was as curious as a kitten.

And as heedless.

“Women are more likely to get pregnant during certain times of the month,” Whip said. “That’s when the, um, whole loaf is best kept in the bread drawer. Or drawers.”

“You’re laughing at me.”

“No, honey girl. I’m laughing, period.”

“Why?”

“You delight me,” Whip said against Shannon’s ear. “I want to kiss you from head to heels and back again, but I don’t trust myself not to take you.”

Shannon shivered and looked into Whip’s silver eyes. The heat and approval she saw made her heart stop.

“I’d like to kiss you the same way,” she whispered, “all over, head to heels. You have such a beautiful body, all sleek and powerful and—”

Warm, wet fingers sealed Shannon’s lips, shutting off the tumbling flow of her words.

“No more, honey girl. You’re burning me alive.”

Slowly Whip removed his fingers, caressing every curve of Shannon’s lips as he did.

“I don’t mean to burn you,” she whispered. “I don’t even know how. Will you teach me, Whip? Will you tell me how to turn the world into a glittering black rainbow for you?”

“No,” Whip said roughly. “Don’t you understand?
I can’t.”

W
HIP
closed his eyes against the desire raking through his body, tormenting him with what he wanted more than breath—
and must not take.

When his eyes opened, he saw the hurt and confusion in Shannon’s.

“I want you too much to trust myself,” Whip admitted, his voice raw. “That’s a first. I never had any trouble protecting a woman before.”

Shannon took a deep, shivering breath. “I don’t understand.”

“I can take a woman without making her pregnant,” Whip said in a clipped voice. “All I have to do is hold back my own pleasure until I’m not inside her anymore.”

“Oh.” Shannon frowned thoughtfully. “I understand. I think.”

Whip didn’t know whether to laugh or curse at his earnest, innocent widow’s expression.

“It’s not foolproof,” he added. “If a woman is in her fertile time, I don’t risk it.”

“What’s her fertile time?”

Whip’s eyelids lowered halfway, making his eyes a smoky silver gray against the heightened
color of his face. His thick eyelashes were the same radiant gold as the lantern light itself.

“Didn’t your mama tell you anything?” Whip asked when he could trust himself to speak.

“Such as?”

“Such as women are most likely to get pregnant about halfway through their monthly cycle.”

A flush that had nothing to do with the hot spring’s warmth crept up Shannon’s body.

“Oh. Er, no,” Shannon muttered. “She didn’t say anything about that.”

Whip waited.

Shannon said nothing.

“When did you last bleed?” he asked bluntly.

She swallowed and closed her eyes.

“First I have Silent John and now I have Talkative Whip,” she muttered.

“When did you last bleed?” Whip repeated, his eyes level and his tone determined.

“It—it stopped last night,” Shannon said in a rush.

Desire lanced through Whip, hotter than any steamy spring, tightening his body even more. Just the thought of pushing into Shannon’s snug, sleek body was enough to take him to the edge of his self-control.

“Last night, huh?” Whip said huskily.

Shannon nodded and wondered if her face was as bright a red as she thought it was.

Whip smiled and nuzzled her ear with his tongue.

“I didn’t know a woman could blush from her breasts to her forehead,” he said huskily.

“It’s the heat of the water,” Shannon muttered.

Whip laughed very softly.

When Shannon shifted in embarrassment, she
encountered the stark reminder of Whip’s arousal. She stopped moving even as he groaned.

“I’m sorry,” she said hurriedly. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“You didn’t.”

“It sounded like I did.”

“You made the same kind of sounds beneath the tarp. Was I hurting you?”

The sensual shiver of memory that went through Shannon was felt by Whip, too.

“No,” she whispered. “You didn’t hurt me. I didn’t even know that kind of pleasure was possible. Can I truly make you feel like that?”

“Yes,” Whip said simply.

“How?”

Closing his eyes, Whip took a deep breath…and a tighter rein on his own driving hunger.

“We’ll start with a kiss,” he said. “Would you like that?”

“Oh, yes. Would you?”

“It’s a start,” Whip said tightly, lowering his head.

An instant later Shannon felt the velvet penetration of his tongue. The heat and textures of Whip’s kiss rushed through her, making her dizzy.

With a soft whimper, she turned her face up and parted her lips even more, wanting to get as close as she could to Whip. Her arms slid around his neck and her fingers searched through his hair, holding him hard against her mouth while she tasted him as deeply as she could.

With a rough, throttled sound, Whip kissed Shannon in return, pressing into her mouth, thrusting against her tongue, devouring her as thoroughly as he could with just a kiss. Finally, shuddering, he pulled free.

“Whip?” she asked huskily. “Is something wrong? Why did you stop?”

“You make me too damned hot.”

Shannon looked around the gently steaming pool. “Maybe we should get out of the water.”

He laughed despite the agony of his unruly, unfulfilled desire.

“It’s not the water,” Whip said. “It’s you. I feel like I’ve wanted you forever. You burn me even in my dreams.”

The look in Whip’s eyes made Shannon forget to breathe.

“Does that mean you’ll let me pet you?” she whispered.

“Anytime. Anywhere. Any way you want.”

And I’m a fool to even suggest it,
Whip said silently to himself.

But he didn’t say the words aloud. He wanted Shannon’s hands on him too much to be wise.

Watching Whip’s face, Shannon ran her hands over his shoulders and chest, luxuriating in the strength and resilience of his flesh. Slender fingers kneaded, discovered, and enjoyed every difference in texture from hair-roughened chest to the flat, surprisingly smooth male nipples.

Whip’s eyelids lowered as waves of pleasure visibly swept through him.

Smiling, Shannon petted and stroked Whip from his forehead to his powerful thighs, loving the heightened color of his skin and the burning silver of his half-opened eyes. After a time she turned her head and touched the base of his neck with her tongue. The caress had a catlike delicacy and curiosity.

Whip’s whole body shuddered, raked by passion. Shannon murmured and ran the tip of her
tongue over the steely tendons in his neck. Then she gave in to an urge she didn’t understand and tasted him thoroughly, savoring his skin with the sensitive surfaces of her tongue and lips.

“You’re salty,” Shannon said against Whip’s skin. “I like that. It makes me want to lick more of you. Is that all right?”

Breath came from Whip in a harsh rush. One of his hands went to Shannon’s head, caressing and pressing, encouraging her to more forceful explorations.

“Whip?”

“Your teeth,” he said huskily. “Let me feel their sharp little edges.”

A few minutes earlier Shannon would have hesitated, but not now. Now she wanted to give the primitive caress as much as Whip wanted to receive it. She lowered her head until her chin was barely above the steamy water. Slowly she opened her lips. Her teeth tested the pad of muscle that surrounded a nipple.

A thick, hungry sound was dragged from deep within Whip’s chest.

“Whip?”

“Do it again, honey girl. Harder.”

“Are you sure?”

Whip laughed, bent his head swiftly, and lifted Shannon up at the same time. With no warning he fitted his mouth to the base of her neck. Then his teeth tested her resilient flesh with a force just short of pain while his mouth tugged at her silky skin.

Fire burst in Shannon. Her eyes closed and she lifted herself against Whip’s mouth. She twisted slowly, increasing the power of the fierce caress. Whip laughed low in his throat and gave her what
she was asking for, branding her with his mouth until she cried out.

Instantly he released her.

“I’m sorry,” Whip said. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

Shannon’s eyes opened, luminous with fire.

“Hurt me?” She shook her head and laughed. “Oh, no.”

Her mouth went to Whip’s chest and returned the fierce love play, tasting and biting and branding Whip with her heat until he groaned. Slowly she lifted her head.

“Am I hurting you?” Shannon asked.

But her eyes said she already knew the answer.

“You’re killing me,” Whip said huskily, “but you’re not hurting me one bit. Well, not most of me. One particular part of me is aching fit to die.”

“Where?”

“Guess,” he said succinctly.

“Oh. There.”

“Yes. There.”

Shannon’s hand slid beneath the water and rubbed down the taut muscles of Whip’s torso. Her fingers met a dense cushion of hair and a blunt, rigid thrust of flesh.

“Here?” she asked.

Breath hissed through Whip’s clenched teeth.

“Does touching you make it worse?” Shannon asked anxiously.

“Depends.”

“On what?”

“On where you touch me. And how.”

Shannon bit her lip, looked away, and went very still.

“I don’t know how,” she said.

“Explore, honey girl. I’ll survive.”

“But—”

“Unless touching me offends you?”

Shannon’s head came up in surprise. “How could it offend me? You feel wonderful.”

Whip shrugged. “Some women don’t like touching a man at all, much less where he’s most a man.”

“Truly? I’ve spent most of my time wishing I could touch you, even…there.”

“You’ve got your wish.”

She smiled despite the blush burning across her cheeks.

“Tell me if I hurt you,” she said huskily. “Although how I could hurt anything so hard is beyond me.”

Whip made a sound that was part laugh, part groan. The feel of Shannon’s fingers exploring him beneath the surface of the hot spring was a pleasure so great it was almost pain. As she caressed his length several times from blunt tip to rigid base, blood hammered so fiercely through him that he was afraid he would burst.

“
Shannon.
”

Her hand froze. “Am I touching too much?”

“Not enough.”

“I told you I didn’t know how,” she said unhappily.

Breath hissed between Whip’s clenched teeth. When Shannon would have withdrawn her hand, his fingers closed around hers.

“Like this,” he said hoarsely.

Shannon felt the circle of her hand being moved slowly over Whip’s hard, silky length, felt the fierce beating of his life’s blood beneath her palm, and savored the sleek combination of satin and steel that was uniquely male. She smiled and gave a
shivery little sigh of pleasure at being permitted the freedom of Whip’s body.

The knowledge that Shannon was truly enjoying his arousal almost undid Whip. As her fingers pressed firmly around him, measuring and pleasuring at the same time, his blood leaped wildly. He dragged at breath and self-control and found neither. Release surged through him, taking him by surprise, for he had never been so quick off the mark before.

But then, he had never had a virgin widow looking at him before, watching his eyes and enjoying his flesh like a cat discovering catnip for the first time.

“You’re shivering,” Shannon said after a time. “Are you all right?”

“Much better.”

She smiled and stroked all of Whip’s body slowly, soothingly, for she could feel that some of the tension had left him. As she caressed him, she looked down at the swirling surface of the pool, where streaks of golden lantern light intertwined with black water.

“I wish I could see as much of you as I can feel,” Shannon said, trailing her fingertips down over Whip. “I’d like to see how you change when you want me.”

Whip’s heartbeat kicked hard as hunger rushed through him once more.

“Honey girl, you’re going to be the death of me.”

She looked at him, startled. “What do you mean?”

“I’m not sure I can tell you, but I’m damn sure I can show you.”

With that, Whip captured Shannon’s caressing hand and lifted it to his neck. Then he bent his head
and took Shannon’s mouth, consuming it, making it completely his.

While he kissed her, his fingers stroked from Shannon’s neck to her knees. He teased her breasts, drawing their peaks into tight velvet crowns. When he rugged on one nipple, twisting it with great care, she arched and cried out.

The sound was lost in Whip’s mouth, but Shannon didn’t notice. A radiant darkness was swirling around her, glittering with the possibility of ecstasy, calling to her in all the colors of the rainbow.

One of Whip’s hands slid slowly up between Shannon’s thighs until he could go no higher. Long fingers curled around her softness. He probed lightly, felt a sultry welcome that owed nothing to the hot spring, and eased deeply into her clinging heat.

Shannon flinched and stiffened as though he had taken a lash to her.

“What’s wrong?” Whip murmured against her lips. “We’ve done this before.”

“And then you raged at me and wouldn’t touch me again.”

“Not this time. This time I know you’re a virgin. This time I’m going to touch you every way I can, but one.”

Whip’s hand moved swiftly, hungrily. A ripple of tension went through Shannon’s whole body, making it impossible for her to speak.

“I—” she said raggedly. “I—”

His thumb circled the knot of swollen flesh he had drawn from her softness. Shannon’s arms tightened around his neck as another fierce shiver took her. She tried to speak but could make only a choked sound.

Concerned, Whip reluctantly withdrew from
Shannon’s body. His fingertips caressed the full, soft folds with great gentleness.

“What?” Whip murmured. “What is it?”

“I feel so strange,” she said raggedly.

“But do you like it?”

A long finger eased into Shannon as Whip spoke.

“Yes,” she whispered. “
Yes.
”

Even more than Shannon’s words, her body told Whip that she enjoyed the intimate caress. Hotter than the pool, her response spilled over him. Slowly he withdrew from her, his own body taut with the certainty that she could take him with only brief pain when her maidenhead was breached. She was sleek and sultry, made to hold him within her loving heat.

No
, Whip told himself savagely.
I can’t risk it.

What risk?
came his own instant retort.
There will never be a safer time of month for her. It will never be easier for me to control my own release than it is right now, when she has just given me such a sweet easing.

There were more arguments in Whip’s mind against taking Shannon, but he wasn’t listening to them. He was listening to the swift breaking of Shannon’s breath as he caressed her softness once more, slowly, deeply.

“Did you mean it?” Whip asked when he could go no farther into her.

“What?” she asked, dazed.

“That you wanted to see me?”

“Yes.”

“Good. Because I sure as hell want to see you. I’ve been dreaming of watching you again, all honey and cream and fire. I’ve dreamed some other things, too.”