A Summer Smile (6 page)

want."

His arm tightened in a quick hug. "That's my girl." He released her and turned away. "Now, why don't you rummage in my backpack to find that clean shirt. I'll go and see what I can do about rustling up some shrubbery to cover the cave opening."

Zilah watched him stride away in a state bordering on bemusement. He had stirred so many responses in her with his vibrant presence that now she felt suddenly cold and a little lost. She gave herself a shake and deliberately turned her eyes away from Daniel's lithe retreating back.

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 clin-ical 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-l. 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."

Three

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 'protegee' without ulterior motives? Particularly one who looks
l
ike 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." "111?"

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 indefinitely."

She made a face. "Honesty is all very well, but I could have used a little comforting prevarication at moment."

"Prevarication, no, comfort, yes." He rose to his knees and pulled her swiftly into his arms. "I could K a little comfort myself." His lips were nuzzling at 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.

"It's only a question of comparison. What I'm doing to you now is only pleasant"—his finger inserted itself between the buttons of her shirt with shocking suddenness—"when you compare it to

this."

The touch of his skin against her nipple sent heat rocketing through her. His finger was rubbing back and forth against the naked peak, then began flicking it with a fingernail with every pass. "What word would your dictionary use to describe this, Zilah?"

There weren't any words. She was being jolted by tremors with each tantalizing touch. "Daniel ..."

His navy blue eyes were narrowed with satisfaction on her face. "You like that, don't you? I love that expression on your face; I love to know that what I'm doing is causing it."

Then his hands were rapidly unbuttoning her shirt and pushing it down her arms until it fell to the silver mat. "Ah, that's what I wanted." His eyes were caressing her with the same magic as his hands.

"Lovely. All gold and pink and touched with warmth." He brought her close, rubbing her naked breasts sensually against the cloud of auburn hair on his chest. "My lovely summer girl."

"What?" she asked dazedly.

"Never mind," he muttered. His head was bent, his tongue gently stroking her nipple. She felt a white-hot shiver run through her. His lips closed on her with a strong suction that caused her back to arch and a low cry to break from her throat.

He lifted his head and drew a long, shaky breath.

Dear heaven, I want to be inside you. I want to hear you cry out like that when I come into you and fill you.

I want to move and twist until every part of you belongs to me. To feel you tighten and pull at me."

"Daniel!"

He shook his head as if to clear it. "I think we were pretty close to sending up a few Roman candles." He grinned. "I never did like fooling around with the little stuff."

"I gathered that"—her heart was pounding so nard she could scarcely speak—"from your conversation."

"I told you I wasn't subtle." He suddenly frowned n concern. "I tend to get a bit graphic on occasion.
 
Did I offend you?"

"No." He had excited her. She drew a shaky breath. "You didn't offend me."

His eyes were narrowed shrewdly on her face. You liked it." He smiled. "And you like me. We fit, don't we, love?"

"Yes, I think perhaps we do." She returned his smile and then her breath abruptly caught in her at as she met his eyes. The world narrowed down
 
just the two of them in a dark intimacy that glowed

1 all manner of starlike things. She pulled her gaze away with an effort. "I guess I'm not much on subtlety either."

"Lie down."

Her eyes flew to his in surprise.

He smiled slightly and shook his head. "No Roman candles, not even any firecrackers. Just you sleeping in my arms. I think we'd both like that.

Okay?"

She nodded, her throat tight. "Okay." His chest was warm and solid and the soft mat cushioned her naked back as he turned her spoon fashion, his palms lovingly cupping her breasts. Her hair splayed in a silken mass over his upper arm.

Treasured.
The word came to her even as weariness flowed over her in an irresistible tide. Desire was still there, smoldering low, but it was that blessed feeling of being treasured that she was most conscious of now. Considering that he was a dangerous man who had exploded into her life with shocking violence, she was astounded that she should feel this way in his arms. Treasured and protected and . . .

She awoke to darkness and the uneasy feeling that something was wrong. Yet what could be wrong? she wondered drowsily. Daniel's arms were still around her, holding her securely, his warm breath feathering her ear. Her forehead knitted in a frown as she realized what was wrong. Daniel's breathing was jerky and labored and his arms around her were shaking. He was trembling as if he were a malaria victim! The panic that thought engendered jolted her wide awake.

"Daniel?" She tried to sit up but his arms were suddenly rigid manacles around her. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong." The words were jerky, as if they were spoken between clenched teeth. "Go back to sleep."

"There
is
something wrong," she insisted. "Are you ill?"

He laughed shortly. "If you can call being gutless ill, then I guess I am."

"Gutless? I don't know what you're talking about." Her concern was growing by the second. "Daniel, what's wrong? Dammit, you're scaring me."

He drew a deep breath. "God knows I didn't want to do that. Look, there's nothing to be afraid about. It's just my damn nerves. I told you I didn't like walls around me. I thought I had it under control, but I woke up and there it was gibbering at me in the darkness. Sometimes it happens like that. I'll be all right in a few minutes. Go back to sleep."

"Let me go, Daniel. I'm not going to go meekly back to sleep and leave you like this. I couldn't do that." She felt a slight loosening of his arms and she turned over to face him. Her arms slipped about his waist with an instinctive maternal protectiveness as old as time. "Now, what's wrong? Tell me."