much thought, he moved his hands over her, first in comfort, then with interest. This woman felt so right, like he’d always thought a woman should feel. Not all soft and fluffy, but lean and strong, running the length of him as a perfect mate should.
He thought of the few women he’d been with over the years. None of them had felt right. They’d been yielding in his arms, hungry and in a hurry. Nothing like her. The others had talked of love and passion, something Em might never speak of, but he didn’t care. He’d rather be with her than with any woman he’d ever seen, simply because she felt right next to him.
He asked no questions about the way he needed her close. He didn’t know if he felt like she belonged to him or if he belonged to her, but somehow over their days together a bond had threaded itself between them. Nothing else mattered. She’d probably come nearer to killing him than accepting him now that she knew he was a gambler, and he was angry with her for lying to Wyatt and thinking she had to put herself in danger for Duncan just because she’d told some McMurray she’d take care of his ranch while he was gone.
But right now, none of that mattered.
Lewt buried his face against her hair and breathed her in as he slid his hand from her waist along the side of her leg to her knee. Gently, he lifted her leg and laid it over his. “Sleep,” he whispered. “Sleep next to me. Sleep so close to me we share breath.”
She shifted slightly without waking. Her back straightened and he felt her breasts press against his chest. His hand moved over her once more, loving the feel of her against him. His fingers slid down her back, pressing just enough to mold her to him, then moving lower over her hips as if he had every right to caress her so boldly.
He felt her as he’d never felt a woman, with admiration and curiosity and caring. He wanted to know her this way, but not with her asleep. He wanted her to feel his touch, to crave it, to beg him for more, and he had a feeling she never would.
Gently he leaned her head back on his arm and kissed her throat. “Grow used to me,” he whispered against her damp skin. “Grow so used to me that you crave me near.” Pulling loose the buttons at her collar, he tasted her skin once more. All night, while he’d gambled, he’d thought of her, and a need for her grew inside him. Not the kind of need a man has for a woman, any woman, but the kind of need only one woman can satisfy.
She moaned softly and he froze, afraid he’d awakened her, but she rocked against him, settling back into deep sleep.
His hands brushed one last time over her back. “Until the next time,” he whispered as he pulled her blouse wide and kissed the pale skin just above her camisole. “Get accustomed to me, Em, because I plan on holding you like this again.”
He rested his hand on the roundness of her hip, took a deep breath against her throat, and let sleep blanket him.
When he awoke, she was gone. For a moment in the blackness of the half cave he panicked, and then he heard her whispering softly from a few feet away. Her words were loving and kind and he smiled, liking the change in her. Maybe he’d tamed a bit of the wildness in her last night.
It took him several seconds to realize she was talking to the horse and not to him.
He stood, mad at himself for bothering to hope. “Em?” he whispered, as his eyes adjusted enough for him to see her outline next to a horse.
“Over here,” she said. “Come slow or you’ll spook the horse.”
“I’ve been on good terms with that mount for days. I don’t think—” Lewt stopped in midsentence as he made out the markings of the animal she was reaching out to pet.
It wasn’t his horse.
“Where . . .” he whispered.
“I don’t know how she found us, but she’s a McMurray horse. I’d know the midnight-gray color anywhere. I’m guessing she’s Duncan’s.” She smoothed her hand over the horse’s neck. “You’re Shadow,” she said to the horse. “Born to run with the rangers and black as night.”
Lewt took the last few steps carefully. The horse jerked