Ride The Wild Wind (Time Travel Historical Romance) (6 page)

BOOK: Ride The Wild Wind (Time Travel Historical Romance)
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“Fine. I’ll crawl
if you won’t help. Come on, Max.”

Antonio watched
her laughable display, the huffing, groaning, and grappling with the blanket
that kept slipping off as she dragged herself inch by inch. The dog kept close
by her side.

She collapsed in
the dirt, raging and spouting curses he had never heard a polite woman use.
Kneeling, he reached beneath her. “If you must be so stubborn, at least allow
me to help you stand.”

“Get away. I don’t
need your help. I don’t need anyone’s help.”

Ignoring her, he
lifted her to her feet, slipped one arm around her waist and pulled her against
him for support. She clutched the blanket to her breasts and leaned into him a bit
more, unsteady, very possibly having no idea the affect she was having on him,
or the enticing view of her shapely backside.

“Don’t move too
fast.” He helped steady her enough to take a step. She paused, stiffened.

“Ouch, but that
really hurts.”

“Your knee is
infected and your ankle appears to be swollen this morning. You should not be
walking yet.”

“Well, too bad
because I’m going to pee with dignity, okay?”

With his
assistance she took two small steps, pausing before taking two more.

She pointed. “Lean
me against that rock.”

He obliged.

Her gaze settled
on the dog, then back to him. “Okay, go away you two and give a girl some
privacy.”

Against his better
judgment, he left her alone to tend to her morning business. Her dog remained
with him. A few moments later she staggered out from behind the rocks.

“I can’t believe
people go camping for fun—roughing it no less. Hey, I’m all for communing with
nature and all that jazz, but I fail to see the fun in not having toilet paper
or a hot shower.”

Toilet paper?
What an odd, but appealing idea.

She pulled the
blanket tighter around her shoulders. He had never noticed before but for such
a petite woman, she had long, thin legs. His eyes riveted on her curiously
large feet. When he made a move toward her, she held up a hand.

“I can do this.”

He had no doubt
this strong-willed woman could do anything she set her mind to. He watched her
take a few more steps before she paused to catch her breath. A weak woman would
have crumbled, at the very least have dissolved into tears. But this was no
ordinary woman. He knew from the moment he found her, from the first time he
dreamed of her.

She swayed
unsteadily. Concerned, he took one step but stopped short as she implored him
not to with her eyes. “You are in pain.”

Her eyes met his.
“Yeah, but I’m a lot tougher than you think I am.”

Perhaps she was.
Or perhaps her bravery was an act. “Very well. If you can walk, perhaps you can
ride today.”

She froze in
mid-step and glanced at the horse. “Um, you don’t mean as in ride that four
legged beast?”

He could not
resist a prime opportunity. “Unless you are so
tough
that
you
would rather walk to Albuquerque?”

She shot him a
dark look. “But I’ve never ridden a horse.”

Antonio found this
difficult to believe. A woman of her fire and spirit would make an excellent
horsewoman. “This may surprise
you
,” he quipped, “but before yesterday I
had never bathed a woman. Still, I did not let my inexperience prevent me from
doing what must be done.”

She lifted a brow,
opened her mouth to speak, then snapped it shut before giving him a quizzical
look. To be young and small, she was hardy. And anyone who had the fortitude to
stand and argue after what she had endured could surely sit a horse for a few
hours.

She limped toward
her clothing which hung on a low branch. “You never told me your name.”

He did not intend
to. With the bounty on his head he could not afford to be careless.

She cleared her
throat. “Um, do you mind? I’m going to dress now.”

He placed his back
to her, listening to the rustle of clothes, a heavy sigh, and what he thought
was a curse word. “Do you require assistance?” he asked.

“Nope.”

He snuck a peek,
then turned around. What the hell? She had draped the blanket over her head to
cover herself. “May I ask what are you doing?”

“Putting on my
underwear in private,” she answered tersely. “Is that a problem?”

 He dragged a
hand down his face. “This is ridiculous.”

“Yeah, you’re
telling me. It’s freaking hot under here.”

He moved toward
her and yanked off the blanket, tossing it aside.

“Hey, give me that
back!”

Despite her cry of
protest, he shook out her wrinkled blouse and held it out for her to slip into.
“Allow me.”

Her eyes widened.
“Look, I’ve been dressing myself since I was three years old. I don’t need your
help.”

“You have barely
been able to hold down sips of water, let alone care for yourself properly. Do
not argue.”

She snatched the
blouse from his grip. “You can ‘help’ when I say so, but first turn your eyes
in the other direction. You’re not getting your jollies with me.”

    
Jollies?
 What were jollies?  

    
Feeling like a scolded dog, he placed his back to her and crossed his arms
across his chest, annoyed, yet acutely aware of the female behind him. As he
listened to the soft rustle of clothes, his sex stirred to life again. Wicked
image danced through his mind and he allowed himself to recall the final
moments of last night’s dream about her. A mistake when his body responded
fiercely to the memory.

 She broke
into his reverie. “You never answered my question. Who are you? Got a name?”

Growing more
frustrated by the moment, he scuffed the toe of his boot against a palm sized
stone and sent it sailing. “Who I am is of no concern to you.” Actually, he was
more interested in who
she
was.

“Oh, come on. I’ll
tell you my name if you tell me yours.”

“I don’t feel that
is a wise choice.”

“Right. You’re
afraid I’ll look you up someday and claim you fathered my love child, then hit
you up for back child support, eh?”

He did turn around
this time. She snatched the front of her blouse shut but not before he glimpsed
the swell of pert, round breasts peeking over the lacy edge of her curious
looking undergarment.

Absently, he
reached up to button her blouse but her hands came up as if in protest and
covered his.
So soft and warm
. She was doing nothing erotic, simply
touching him, but a tremor of desire rippled through him.

When her eyes met
his, something in the middle of his gut softened. Struggling to ignore the
intoxicating effect of her touch, he counted the sparse sprinkling of freckles
on her sunburned nose. Five to be exact. He attempted to make conversation in
order to distract himself.   “Do you feel stronger today?”

“Like I’m in a
whole new world.”

He assessed her
with his eyes. “Your color is good and the fever appears to be gone. You were
fortunate.”

Her lips parted
slightly and he inhaled sharply. The pupils of her whiskey-colored eyes dilated
as she gazed deep into his eyes. Was this fear? Or was her reaction due to
something else? Her respiration increased. Blood rushed into his groin. No, it
wasn’t fear he saw in her eyes. She enjoyed his nearness. Perhaps she was even
pleased he wanted to assist with her dressing.

She released his
hands and they fell away, leaving her blouse undone. She made not a move as he
took in a leisurely perusal of her uncovered flesh.

A gentle breeze
rustled her hair, and the sunlight broke through the sparse tree branches,
dappling her fiery red locks with bursts of light. Interpreting her brazenness
as invitation, he brushed the back of his hand against the soft swell of breast
that spilled over the top of the scanty garment that bound them tight.

She sucked in a
breath, her lips parting, her gaze never leaving his as he toyed with the
nipple through the thin, satiny fabric.

He had to kiss
her—taste her—to see if it was anything like he remembered from his dreams. She
inhaled sharply as he pulled her against him, but did not resist when his other
palm came up to cup her chin.

Then he lowered
his mouth to hers.

She went rigid as his
tongue slid between her lips and past her teeth. Her frightened eyes remained
wide and questioning, her body stiff.
Was she repulsed, or…inexperienced?
The
idea that he was
the first to kiss her aroused him all the more.

“Put your arms
around my neck,” he whispered, and she did.

Firmly settling
his mouth over hers, he thrust his tongue past her lips, found hers and
eventually enticed it into a slow, sensual dance.
Yes, like that
.

His hand came up
to cup a breast and he filled his palm with the supple flesh. His thumb pad
stroked the nipple through the fabric. Impatient to feel her naked flesh, he
reached behind and fumbled with the hooks, unfastening the damned contraption.
A whimpering sound broke free from the back of her throat as his hand covered a
warm, bare breast. Never breaking the kiss, he caressed and explored, his thumb
rubbing a tender circle around the blossoming bead.

Her hands slipped
downward to his shoulders as her mouth demanded more of his. Soft moans deep in
her throat told him she was enjoying herself. Too much, he realized when she
arched against him.

He tried to break
the kiss, but her hand fisted a hank of hair, holding his head in place. As if
of their own accord, his palms smoothed down her sides, reaching lower to grip
her buttocks. He pulled her pelvis snug against his, ground himself against
her. Eventually, she broke the kiss, her eyes growing wide, though she made no
attempt to ease away.

Damn.
He
should never have taken things this far.  With everything in him—which
wasn’t much at the moment—he released her, took a step backward to put a safe
distance between them. He watched the tip of her tongue flick out as if to
taste him on her lips, and his cock twitched at the sensual display. She
smoothed her skirt with her palms, then clutched her blouse shut.

“Well, that was
um…” she cleared her throat, “interesting.” Her voice was breathy, her eyes
wide.

He struggled to
find his voice above the erratic pounding of his heart. “I am truly sorry.”

She shrugged.
 “Don’t be sorry. It’s just that….I don’t want you to get the wrong
impression of me. I mean, I don’t go around….letting guys….you know…feel me up
and stuff.”

“No man has ever
touched you in such a manner.”

Keeping her eyes
downcast, she haphazardly buttoned her blouse.  “No.”

He’d already
guessed such. “Again, I apologize. There is no excuse for my inexcusable
behavior.”

She shrugged.
“Really, there’s no need to get all weird about it. I mean, it was just a kiss
and not much more.”

“Will you allow
me?”

“What?”

He motioned. “Your
blouse isn’t buttoned correctly.”

“Oh.”

When she didn’t
move, Antonio reached up to put the buttons through their correct holes, but
her hands slid over his as if to stop him. Eventually, they dropped away.

“What happened was
much more than a simple kiss,” he said as worked a button through its hole. “I
have no excuse for taking liberties.”

Her gaze held his.
“Well if it helps ease your conscience, it was kinda nice.”

Completely undone
by her candor, he dropped his hands at his side. “Yes…perhaps you’d best
finish.” In his nervousness, he added, “I can imagine what you think of me.”

“I
think
you’re
a decent guy who just wanted to kiss me. Look, I’m okay with what happened so
why don’t you just hook my bra in the back and we’ll be good again.” She winked.

He stared, not
understanding. “What is a….bra?”

“This.” She lifted
her top, exposing the wisp of fabric covering her breasts. “A bustenhalter.
Over-the-shoulder-boulder-holder. Knocker cups in front. Hooks in the back. You
should know. You unfastened it a minute ago.”

How was he to know
the name of such a device? He had never seen anything like her bizarre
clothing. Feeling as awkward as a school boy, he stepped behind her, fumbled to
secure the two pieces of stretchy material. “You should not bind yourself yet
until the ribs heal.”

 “No problem.
I’m feeling much better today. Hardly any pain at all.”

 “Last
night...” His throat constricted at the memory of how she almost died.

“What?” She turned
to face him.

“I thought you
were going to die.”

She smiled. “Not a
chance of that happening, at least not with your hovering and mothering. All
that was missing was the chicken soup.” She hesitated. “You know, I really
should thank you for staying. You could have left, but didn’t. You stayed to
protect me, even after I punched you. Why would you do that for
me
? I’m
a stranger.”

The tone of her
voice caught him off guard.  Had no one had ever extended any kindness to
her?  “I would care for anyone in your situation, a stranger or
otherwise.”

“Why?”

He almost told her
he was a physician but stopped short. That wasn’t the sole reason he’d stayed.
But by revealing his identity, she would want to know more. Such an error might
cost his life.

Not wanting to
engage in small talk, he lifted her into his arms once she finished dressing.
After carrying her to Dinishwo, he set her feet on the ground. Snaking one arm
around her midsection, he steadied her. “It will not be easy to get you on the
horse,” he warned. “I am going to help you into the saddle, but I will not lie.
It is going to hurt your knee and ribs when I lift. Don’t scream. Dinishwo has
become unpredictable in his age and might become startled and buck you off.”

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