Carol Finch (10 page)

Hawk came agilely to his feet. “I better see what I can round up for a meal.”

Shiloh plucked distastefully at her soiled clothing. “I’m going to take another bath.” She snatched up the discarded pistol. “I plan to have this weapon within easy reach…just in case.”

Hawk smiled wryly as he watched Shiloh limp away. Although she had proved that she could hold her own reasonably well in the wilds, the incident with the wolves had taught her another valuable lesson: Be prepared for anything and everything.

Too bad
he
hadn’t been prepared for the tantalizing sight of her creamy skin and luscious curves and swells when he examined her for wolf bites—and found not one bloody wound, only tantalizing feminine flesh. Hawk muttered when Shiloh’s image—bared to the waist—exploded in his head. Although he was sincerely relieved that she had escaped a painful attack he had not needed to see what he was trying so damn hard not to touch intimately.

Fate, that cruel bastard, just kept tormenting him by keeping this irresistible female underfoot.

Scowling, Hawk stalked off to hunt for supper. If he could have trusted any of his coworkers with Shiloh, he wouldn’t be here with her right now.

Then some other man would have pulled open her shirt to check for wolf bites—and got an eyeful of exquisite feminine beauty.

The unacceptable thought had Hawk muttering and
scowling all over again. He didn’t need to see Shiloh half-naked and he sure as hell didn’t want the other Rangers to, either.

Willfully, he shook off the forbidden images floating in his mind and told himself that he had enough willpower to resist temptation for the next two days. He would take Shiloh home, pick up the bandits’ trail and hope they led him to their hideout. He hoped like hell it wasn’t Drummond Ranch.

“Two more days,” Hawk chanted. A man could endure just about anything for two days, couldn’t he?

Shiloh felt ten times better after bathing and cleaning her clothes. However, she was still as jumpy as a grasshopper, ready to bolt at the slightest sound that suggested danger. It didn’t help when she heard coyotes yipping in the distance, but thankfully, she didn’t stumble upon any varmints that posed a threat.

Hawk was still hunting when Shiloh returned to camp. She decided to fish into his saddlebags to help herself to a sip of his whiskey. Ordinarily, Shiloh didn’t indulge, but she had discovered during primitive surgery on her injured arm that whiskey served to calm her nerves.

She definitely needed to calm her nerves after the harrowing days she had endured. Plus, having Hawk peel open her blouse then gape at her had shaken her to the very core.

And what really shook her was that she liked having his eyes on her, even if she had felt self-conscious. But then, she reminded herself that she and Hawk had been living in each other’s pockets for several days and he had seen her with her wet undergarments sticking to her like paint and that he had seen her in the best and
worst of moods—not to mention everything in between. The long and short of it was that there were very few secrets left between them. She felt more comfortable with him than with any man she’d ever met.

Shiloh took a sip of whiskey and wheezed when it burned its way down her throat. From her recent experience, she knew the first few sips took her breath away, but she vowed to get past that stage to reach those numbing sensations that sent her frustrations drifting off in the wind. She took another drink as she propped herself against her saddle to stare at the hypnotic flames of the fire.

A few minutes later, her jittery nerves gave way to lethargy. Ah, this was much better, Shiloh mused as she took another sip. She wasn’t leaping apprehensively each time shadows shifted. She didn’t have to be tense and on guard because she knew Hawk was nearby and he hadn’t failed her yet.

A lopsided smile quirked her lips as she helped herself to another drink. She’d almost died earlier that evening and she had managed to stave off disaster until Hawk arrived to provide reinforcement. Considering the week she’d had, she was beginning to think that it was important to live in the moment, because the future was extremely uncertain, especially out here in the wilderness where two-legged and four-legged predators lurked.

Shiloh asked herself what regrets she’d have if today were her last day on earth. She would miss her brothers, certainly. And, of course, her friends in town and her relatives in New Orleans. She would also miss Hawk, she mused as she sipped freely on the whiskey.

All sorts of erotic sensations wafted through her when an arresting vision of Hawk leaped to mind.
Those sensations intensified when she remembered their brief kisses and the titillating feel of his muscular body pressed closely to hers on occasion….

“Damn, woman, are you drinking to forget you almost died or are you celebrating the fact that you’re still alive?” Hawk gave her a disapproving stare as he approached the campfire.

Shiloh poured more whiskey into the tin cup then offered him a smile. At least she presumed she did. Her nose and her facial muscles were so numb she couldn’t be certain. In addition, her eyes refused to keep up with her when she turned her head too quickly.

“You better go easy on that stuff,” Hawk warned as he placed the quail he’d cleaned and dressed on the fire. “It will go straight to your head, especially if you don’t have food in your belly.”

“It’s taking the edge off my frazzled nerves,” she said, surprised by the slur in her voice. “Want some?”

“Nice of you to offer since it’s my stash,” he teased as he accepted the bottle she extended to him.

He took a big swig, hoping the liquor would take the lusty edge off his thoughts. He had barely been able to concentrate on snaring food for supper, while visions of Shiloh’s luscious body danced in his head.

In order to drown that tormenting thought he took another guzzle before handing the bottle back to Shiloh.

She refilled her cup then stared at him so intently that he squirmed in his skin. “What’s-a-matter?” he asked.

“I was just thinking about those times you kissed me and I kissed you…all too quickly.”

Hawk grabbed the bottle and guzzled another drink. “That’s not a safe subject. Let’s talk about something else.”

She shook her head and his helpless gaze settled on the glorious mane of hair that caught flame in the light, making his fingers itch to test the silky texture of the long tresses that spilled over her shoulders. Hawk inwardly groaned in torment then helped himself to another sip of liquor.

“I was sitting here listing all the things I would miss if I hadn’t survived the wolf attack,” she commented in a slurred voice.

“I don’t want to talk about
that
prospect, either,” he said before he took another swig.

She went on as if she hadn’t heard him. “Guess what I wouldn’t want to miss if I sailed off to the Hereafter?”

“I give up. What?” he said impatiently.

He silently applauded when the effects of the whiskey kicked in. A few more drinks on an empty stomach and he wouldn’t remember that he wanted Shiloh in the worst way.

She rolled onto her hands and knees, her green eyes dancing in the firelight. The smile she flashed him was so alluring that he felt himself leaning involuntarily toward her. It was damn scary how thin his veneer of self-control was when he was with her. And how hard it was to think of anything except how much he wanted her.

“I don’t wanna leave this world, wonderin’ what it’d be like to
really
kiss you,” she mumbled. “Not just one of those hit-and-run kisses. I want a slow, deep kiss so I can get a thorough taste of you.”

Need pelted him like a Gatling gun when she inched ever closer and he got a whiff of her fresh clean scent.
Don’t do it, you fool!
The voice of reason railed at him.
There are some things a sensible man doesn’t need to know…or feel…. This is at the top of your list!

“Kiss me like you mean it, Hawk,” she entreated as he stared into those jewel-green eyes and those inviting Cupid’s bow lips.

D
espite that well-meaning voice echoing in his brain, he didn’t retreat when Shiloh’s lush mouth slanted over his. He breathed her in, tasted her deeply and buried his fingers in those shiny tendrils so he could hold her head at just the right angle to explore the hidden recesses of her mouth.

He heard her moan softly, felt her arch toward him then loop her arms around his shoulders. His body caught fire and burned everywhere her body touched his. He was so aware of her, wanted her to such extremes that he ached and throbbed with hungry desire. Even breathing became a chore because his accelerated pulse was pounding against his rib cage so hard that his lungs threatened to collapse.

Sweet mercy! The intensity of the impact this woman had on him was frightening!

“Mmm…that’s more like it,” she mumbled when he came up for air. Her head tilted sideways and an impish grin pursed her kiss-swollen lips. “I’ve definitely been missing out. We need to do that again.” Her hand
drifted down his neck to the buttons of his shirt. “I want my hands on you, too.”

When she leaned in, Hawk dodged her kiss and her experimental touch. His lusty body rained down a raft of salty curses for avoiding her, but he had just enough common sense left to call a halt before it was too late. “This is not a good idea,” he bleated. “Besides, I need a bath.”

“Go take one,” she said as she sank down to retrieve her cup. “I’ll be waiting for you to get back.” She cast him an encouraging smile—and it hit him so hard that he swayed on his knees. “I like the taste and feel of you, Hawk. I want more.”

When he felt himself reaching for her, he knotted his fists at his sides and made himself stand up and turn away from her. He was so hard and aching that a cold bath was all that would save him from doing something he would later regret. He shook his head to clear the lusty haze from his brain and promptly reminded himself that Shiloh wouldn’t be voicing those outrageous comments, if not for partaking of whiskey to forget the hair-raising encounter with lobos.

Hawk had experienced that same high-flying intensity, followed by the downward spiral of emotions after battles. He recognized the sense of recklessness that consumed Shiloh. The desire to reaffirm that you survived made you eager to make the most of every moment.

But she would regret becoming physically involved with him when she came to her senses, Hawk thought realistically.

Inhaling a fortifying breath to get his unruly body under control, Hawk peeled off his clothes on the way down to the creek. He expelled a groan when the cool water sizzled on his overheated male anatomy. Thankfully, his sanity returned after he soaked his head.
Damn good thing that he had walked away from Shiloh when he did. Otherwise, they might be locked together in the heat of lust and she would regret it later.

The image of her naked body moving familiarly against his blazed across his brain like a shooting star. Hawk thrust his head underwater again, hoping to douse those vivid images before they set off another round of maddening sensations.

He had to think about something else. Like his injured brother. Like his departed mentor and friend and the restitution Hawk wanted to deliver to those murdering thieves that terrorized the area.

When he regained some measure of control, he emerged from the creek to dress in clean clothes. He would like to linger for another half hour to make sure he had his head back on straight and his lusty body under wraps, but there was food cooking and Shiloh was already three sheets to the wind. He didn’t dare leave her alone for too long.

Hawk breathed a gusty sigh of relief when he returned to camp to see Shiloh draped sideways over the saddle that served as her pillow. Her eyelashes lay like butterflies against her creamy cheeks. The half-empty bottle sat at her fingertips.

Another jab of lust hit him hard and fast. He could think of a dozen interesting ways to wake Shiloh up—all of which involved his roaming hands and wandering lips greeting every inch of her silky flesh.

Stop torturing yourself!
came that sensible voice—one that he was really getting tired of. His noble conscience refused to let him have one bit of fun—not with her, at least.

Wheeling around, Hawk checked on the meat roasting on the fire then strode off to unsaddle all the horses
and check the contents of the extra saddlebags. He frowned pensively when he fished out two stacks of bank notes. His heart thudded against his ribs when his fingertips closed around the familiar pearl-handled dagger with the initials A.P. inscribed on it.

Rage and frustration overcame him as he surveyed the knife that had once belonged to the Indian Agent that had given the Hawk brothers refuge after their escape from the hated reservation in New Mexico. He couldn’t swear that the two men were responsible for Archie Pearson’s death, but he would dearly love to tie them up and extract information from them—Apache style. Unfortunately, that would mean exposing Shiloh to the brutality involved in his job or leaving her alone again to confront the two outlaws. He felt much too guilty for not being on hand to protect her from her recent mishap already. First he’d get Shiloh to safety then track the outlaws he’d left afoot.

“I’ll have the truth someday soon, Archie,” Hawk promised the vision floating above him. “Justice will prevail. It’s the only way Fletch and I can repay you for your kindness now.”

After dragging the saddles to the ground, Hawk walked back to the fire. He cast a glance at Shiloh who was still sprawled on her pallet. Squatting down, Hawk retrieved the meat and coffee. He nudged Shiloh gently to rouse her, but she simply moaned and curled up beside him. Idiot that he was, he dropped a kiss to her lips, then asked himself what the hell he thought he was doing. It had taken a cold bath to calm him down after their last sizzling kiss.

To his dismay—or pleasure, he wasn’t sure which—she responded to his kiss then glided her arms around his neck to snuggle even closer to his sensitized body.
Another jolt of fiery desire scorched him and he gnashed his teeth.

Damn it, he and this woman had no future and she deserved more than a fleeting moment in the wilderness. Why couldn’t he remember that when he got within five feet of her?

“I can’t think of a better way to wake up,” Shiloh murmured drowsily. “Kiss me again, Hawk.”

“No. Sit up and eat,” he demanded gruffly.

She crinkled her nose at his terse command then levered herself upright. Hawk set the plate between them. “I found my friend’s knife when I checked the desperadoes’ saddlebags.”

“I’m sorry.” She stared quizzically at him as she munched on the tender meat. “Who was this friend of yours, Hawk?”

“Archie Pearson was the Indian Agent who tried to persuade the government officials to let my people establish a reservation in the Apacheria in Texas instead of splitting us up and shipping us off to New Mexico and Indian Territory,” Hawk explained. “He was our spokesman and loyal friend to the Apache, unlike too many agents that swindle from their charges for personal gain.”

Hawk smiled fondly as he continued. “Archie also granted Fletch and me refuge when we fled from Bosque Redondo. He gave us clothing and money to tide us over until we found work. He put in a good word for me with his friend at Ranger headquarters in Austin and sent Fletch off with a letter of recommendation to a law official that hired him as a railroad detective.”

“I can understand why you feel a deep sense of devotion to him,” Shiloh murmured.

Hawk gritted his teeth against the bitterness and
pain he had experienced when he learned of Archie’s senseless murder. “I stopped by to see Archie eight months ago, but raiders had been there first. They ransacked the ranch, stole his food and belongings and shot him.”

“I’m truly sorry,” Shiloh whispered as she reached over to clutch his hand consolingly.

He tried to shrug off the burning resentment, but it was still there, still roiling beneath his pretense of calm control. “That was another hard lesson I had to learn. Nothing is forever and bad things often happen to good and decent people. Evil and brutality aren’t the least bit selective about where they strike.”

He glanced at her momentarily. “Take you, for instance. You did nothing to deserve the hell you’ve been through this week. You were simply at the wrong place at the wrong time.” He stared meaningfully at her. “I don’t want to make things more complicated between us than they already are.”

Shiloh nibbled on her meal, her head downcast. “So you are saying that kissing me again isn’t simple?”

“Yes… I mean no….” Hawk raked his hands through his hair when her luminous gaze locked on his.

“Which is it?” she wanted to know.

“Both,” he said on a deflated breath.

“What is wrong with living in the moment once in a while?”

“Because you and I are treading on dangerous ground and I don’t want things to get complicated,” Hawk insisted. “The sooner you’re home with your brothers—” provided they weren’t behind this thievery “—the better off you’ll be.”

And that was a fact, he told himself sternly. Shiloh was on the rebound because she’d lost her heart to a
silver-tongued opportunist. As much as Hawk desired Shiloh—and his need for her was as hot as hell blazing—he’d be damned if he became her consolation prize. He might be considered a second-rate citizen by whites, but he refused to be a substitute for the man Shiloh really wanted. He still had his pride, damn it.

“I suppose you’re right,” she replied, battling the sting of rejection. Why was it, she wondered, that the men she found appealing felt no fond attachment to her? First Antoine, the cad. Now Hawk. She’d practically thrown herself at him earlier, ready to cast caution to the wind. But he’d backed off. The infuriating man!

“If I stripped naked in front of you and offered myself to you, with no strings attached, you’d probably tell me to put my clothes on,” she muttered under her breath.

“Come again?”

Shiloh waved off his curious frown. “Never mind. It isn’t important.”
Just my injured pride taking another beating.

She stretched out on her pallet and turned her back on Hawk. She stared into the darkness, trying to convince herself that it was only the reckless side effects of whiskey that provoked her to seduce Hawk—unsuccessfully. If she had been in full command of her senses she wouldn’t have kissed him as if she was about to die and he was her last wish.

She probably should thank him for refusing her reckless invitation. As he said, he’d be out of her life by tomorrow.

Shiloh frowned as her eyes drifted shut.
Gone tomorrow.
The troubling thought echoed in her mind.

She’d become accustomed to seeing Hawk the first
thing in the morning and the last thing at night. She hoped that having him gone wouldn’t take some serious getting used to.

Blast it, when had she gotten emotionally attached to him? She certainly hadn’t meant to, she mused as she drifted into whiskey-induced sleep.

Eerie pinpoints of light flickered in the darkness as a pack of wolves stalked toward the dying coals of the campfire. Panthers, black as a moonless night, crept up in their wake. Forming the outer circle of imminent peril were the ruthless bandits that made it a policy never to leave eyewitnesses to testify against them.

Muffled thunder rolled like a forewarning of danger. Warning growls and piercing screams filled the air. Shiloh scrambled onto her hands and knees, desperate to locate the pistol she had dropped earlier. Terror clogged her throat, making it impossible for her to cry out in alarm, as dozens of ominous shadows and glowing eyes converged on the campsite, ready to gobble her alive.

When one of the prowling beasts launched itself at her, she clawed at it wildly. Her horrified scream finally broke from her throat when she saw the other fanged predators moving in for the kill. Another howl of terror burst from her lips as she tried to wrest free of the oppressive weight bearing down on her. Cold chills shot down her spine when she saw the man-eating beasts transform into the ghastly apparitions of men….

“Shiloh, damn it, wake up! It’s me. Hawk!”

She heard the deep voice rolling toward her, as if through a long winding tunnel. But her survival instincts kept her on full alert, prompting her to fight for her life.

“Open your eyes and look at me!”

She was afraid to, afraid the mystical phantom beasts that changed from men to monsters on a whim were trying to play a trick on her.

“Shi, can you hear me?”

When she was jerked upright abruptly and clamped tightly in unyielding arms, her eyes flew open. She glanced at the glowing coals of the campfire, bewildered and confused. There were no glowing eyes floating above the tall grass, no fanged beasts waiting to tear her to shreds, no armed gunmen lined up like a firing squad behind the lobos and panthers.

Her breath gushed out as she stared into Hawk’s concerned expression. “Dear God!” she said with a seesaw breath.

“That must have been one hell of a nightmare.” He stroked her back, easing the riveting tension that claimed her. “I thought I’d never get you to wake up. I probably have claw marks on my face and bruises on my belly where you pelted me.”

“I’m sorry.” She raked her hands through her tangled hair and dragged in a steadying breath. “It was—” she shuddered at the vivid images “—awful. I had nightmares as a child when my parents died in the fire, but this…” She breathed deeply and told herself to stop shaking. “This seemed so real. The wolf attack this evening, those legends about phantom lobos and panthers you mentioned and the threat of the outlaws wanting to silence me so I couldn’t identify them, all got tangled up with a bit too much whiskey,” she deduced.

Shiloh told herself to move away from the comforting circle of Hawk’s arms because he didn’t want her. But the aftereffects of the unnerving nightmare held her solidly in place and she shivered uncontrollably.

When she felt his chin resting on the crown of her head, felt his hand glide from her rigid shoulder to the curve of her hips, her lingering fear gave way to tantalizing sensations that heated her chilled flesh from inside out.