Stormwalker Page 7

  She couldn't stand here forever. She'd count to a hundred and then she had to move.

  Where was Cody?

  As if in answer to her thought, he was there. She felt a tremendous surge of relief. He'd know what to do. Her instinctive belief in his ability to help her had little to do with his obvious knowledge of the wild. Somewhere, deep inside, she knew she'd have had the same reaction if she'd been facing a mugger in downtown L.A. She believed in Cody Wolf in a way that had little to do with logic.

  "Snake." Her mouth was so dry that the word came out with a sibilant hiss, which seemed vastly appropriate.

  "I know. Don't move." He was somewhere off to the side. She couldn't make her eyes move enough to see him, but the quiet rasp of his voice told her his location.

  "It's going to be okay. Just don't move."

  Cody could feel sweat making his palms slippery on the barrel of the rifle. He'd told her it was going to be okay but how did he go about making good on that promise? The snake was coiled up in such a way that the only clean shot at him was from directly in front. And Sara and the dog blocked that angle. If he got too close, it could startle the big rattler. for long moments the two humans, the dog and the snake were frozen in a tableau. Whether or not the snake knew it, he was proving just how helpless civilization could still be when face-to-face with nature.

  Sara bit her lip to hold back a whimper. The tension spiraling upward threatened to break loose in a scream. Cody leaned the rifle against his leg and unbuttoned his heavy flannel shirt. If he couldn't get at an angle to shoot the rattler, maybe he could get close enough to throw the shirt over him. If he timed it just right, he could throw Sara out of the way before the serpent could wiggle free.

  He jerked the shirt off his shoulders, slipping the rifle down to the ground. His fingers knotted around the shirt's hem. The weight of the collar would, he hoped, be enough to carry the blue-and-gold fabric over the snake. He took a step forward, feeling the ground beneath his moccasin before putting his weight on the foot. A snapped twig right now could mean the difference between success and disaster.

  Sara trembled. She could sense that Cody was moving. What was he doing?

  Just two more steps and he'd have to try. He wouldn't be able to get any better position than that. If Sara could just hold up a moment longer. He could almost smell her fear, almost feel the ragged rhythm of her pulse as if it beat in his own ears.

  He eased one foot forward. His muscles knotted with tension. So close.

  The rattler's head wove an uneasy pattern from woman to dog to man. It was impossible to judge what was going on behind those flat, reptilian eyes, impossible to guess what thoughts were going through the snake's mind. Whatever they were, he must have decided that he didn't like what he was seeing. After all, none of these three creatures was normal prey.

  With a last irritated rattle of his tail, he uncoiled and slithered his way back into a crevice in the rock behind him. Dog growled low in his throat, throwing a final curse after the snake.

  Sara couldn't move. She could only stare at the ledge where the snake had lain. He was gone. The thought was totally beyond her dazed mind. Just like that, he was gone. Such a simple solution. A faint disturbance in the dust on the ledge was all that marked his passing.

  She turned her head dazedly as Cody's fingers closed around her upper arm.

  "Sara?" His eyes had darkened to almost forest green, his features had softened with concern. He looked so solid, so secure. Sara blinked and then blinked again, trying to wash away the burning sensation in her eyes. She was surprised by the feel of tears on her cheeks. Was she crying?

  Cody looked into the drowned amethyst of her eyes and his heart gave a painful thump. Without conscious thought, his fingers slid from her arm to the back of her head, pulling her forward.

  "It's all right. You probably scared him as much as he scared you. Once he figured out that you weren't going to attack him and you weren't edible, he just got disgusted and left. You're all right now."

  Sara was surprised to find her face pressed against his bare chest, his voice rumbling into her ear. She didn't quite remember how she came to be there, but she didn't move. His skin was warm and slightly damp. The mat of hair tickled her nose a bit but it was a good feeling. Her arms felt so natural resting around his waist.

  She was so tired. Tired of being strong. It had been so long since she'd been able to lean on someone. When her brother died she'd become half-sister, half-mother to a growing boy, faced with earning a living and creating a home. It just felt so good to be able to rest on someone else—just for a moment.

  The feelings her soft weight aroused in Cody were far from restful. For the first few seconds, all he was aware of was the tremendous relief of knowing she was all right. He held her close, absorbing her quiet tears as if they were his own. Gradually, he became aware of the pressure of her breasts on his chest, with only the thin layers of her clothes between them. The warm scent of her. The silk of her hair in his fingers.

  His hands moved to cup the back of her head, tilting her face up. Perhaps he only intended to tell her that she was safe now. Maybe he only meant to brush the tears from her cheeks. His motives were too tangled for him to read.

  Sara's eyes were closed, her lashes creating a spiky pattern on her flushed cheeks.^Slowly they fluttered upward and her eyes met his. Cody's head dipped, his movements slow, uncertain. Sara let her eyes close again, holding her breath as his lips brushed over the dampness of her cheek. He seemed to sip the tears from her skin, taking away the chill of fear and leaving behind a gentle warmth that sank deep within her.

  Her lips parted, her breathing became shallow as his mouth touched her face in light butterfly kisses. His hands tightened on the back of her head, tilting her face back as he tasted the delicate length of her jaw. There were no tears there but Sara didn't care. There was a tingling sensation low in her belly, a sensation that grew with each touch of his mouth.

  When his lips at last settled on hers, she let go her breath in a long sigh. She didn't need his urging to come up on her toes, arching closer to him. His mouth was warm and hard, urging her lips to part, seeking access to the tender inside flesh of her mouth. His

  tongue rubbed lightly along the inner surface of her lower lip before slipping inside.

  Sara's hands slid up his back, seeking something to cling to as his tongue engaged hers in a delicate duel. His hands eased out of the tangled silk of her hair and slid down her spine, his fingers exploring every curve, setting the nerve endings to life. He hesitated in the small of her back, his thumbs drawing circles there as the kiss deepened.

  Her tongue came out to trace the hard line of his teeth, and as if it were a signal he'd been awaiting, Cody's hands slid over her buttocks, lifting her easily until her toes left the ground. His legs braced apart, he drew her into the cradle of his hips.

  Sara moaned from deep within her throat, feeling the hard pressure of his arousal against the softness of her femininity; only a few tantalizing layers of cloth separated them. She buried her fingers in the shaggy blackness of his hair, arching her hips as if trying to transcend the physical barriers between them. Without the rough denim on his legs, he'd be silk and steel against her, within her. Her stomach clenched at the thought.

  She'd never felt like this before. Never wanted anyone the way she wanted this man. Certainly not David. Dear, sweet David had never made her feel this primitive, this elemental. David! Oh, my God! What was she doing?

  Cody felt her mental withdrawal long before he felt the physical pressure of her hands on his arms pushing him away. His arms tightened for a moment in denial and he felt her draw in a sharp breath of fear. With much effort, he released her, and Sara backed away shakily.

  Around them the little valley was full of sunshine and the clean scents of nature. But neither of them noticed anything outside the circle of shimmering tension that held them in place. Sara's shaken retreat had carried her only a foot or two away. They were
still so close that she could see the golden flecks that burned in the clear green of his eyes. Cody could see the enticing peaks of her nipples through the cloth of her shirt and, for just an instant, he wanted to ignore her protest and pull her down into the grass and make love to her.

  He felt exhilarated, frustrated and aroused. Couldn't she see that this was inevitable? Why was she backing off? He was savagely excited, hungry. But looking at the uncertainty and fear in her eyes, he suddenly had an image of how he must look tcTher. His shirt lay on the ground behind him and the autumn sun shone on skin turned bronze by summer's sun. His jeans rode low on his hips, the Apache boots clung lovingly to his calves, the black haft of his knife rested snugly in its sheath. He hadn't had a haircut in weeks and his hair was shaggy, black and untamed.

  He looked every inch the savage Indian, and he felt his stomach tighten at the shock he read in her eyes. He'd seen that look before in a woman's eyes: shock and a kind of sly excitement. There was something about the forbidden pleasure of letting a savage make love to them that excited some women.

  He'd come to terms with that reaction a long time ago and had learned to either avoid women who felt that way or ignore it. But seeing that shock overlaying the awareness in Sara's eyes infuriated him. He wanted to bury his hands in her hair and crush those soft lips beneath his. He wanted to erase that look in her eyes.

  "I'm sorry. I don't usually—"

  "Let a savage touch your lily-white skin?" Cody's words cut into her sentence, and there was so much bitter anger in them that it took Sara a few minutes to make sense of what he was saying.

  "Don't worry," Cody continued. "I've never been known to leave permanent stains. It's amazing what a little soap and water will do."

  "That's not—"

  "Horrified that you responded to me?" The mouth that had so recently driven every thought from her head curved in an ugly sneer. "A lot of women like the taste of forbidden pleasure. After all, I'm safe enough. Indians are tame these days. Of course, I'm only half Indian. A half-breed." He spit out the last word, his eyes glittering emerald sparks.

  "Does that excite you even more? Too bad I'm not in the market for a quick tumble in the grass. Maybe some other—"

  He'd bent to pick up his shirt, and as he straightened her palm caught him full across the cheek. Not with a ladylike tap, but with a roundhouse swing that had the full force of her arm behind it. Taken off balance, he staggered slightly and almost sat down hard on the ground. The sound of the slap echoed in the quiet valley. Dancer looked up from the particularly succulent patch of grass he'd been munching and studied the two humans for a moment before returning to his meal.

  "What the hell?" Cody's fingers explored the tender flesh on his cheek.

  Sara stood in front of him, not in the least intimidated by the angry green fire that built in his eyes. "You are without a doubt the most arrogant, obnoxious SOB it has ever been my misfortune to meet!" Cody blinked at her vehemence, but she went on before he could interrupt. Her hands clenched into fists by her sides, she stared up at him, completely unconcerned with the fact that he was physically capable of breaking her in two if he so desired.

  "How dare you accuse me of something like that? I don't care if you're half Venusian. The only thing I care about is your ability to find my nephew. I'm not excited by anything about you," she lied without hesitation. "I've met bill collectors whom I found more appealing and a hell of a lot more intelligent. I'm not in the habit of jumping into bed with men I barely know," she said, thereby tacitly admitting that that was the reason she'd drawn away from him.

  "Now, if you're through insulting me, it seems to me that we should be getting on our way, if you don't mind."

  She stalked back toward camp, leaving Cody staring after her with the feeling that he'd just picked up a kitten only to have it turn into a puma. He rubbed absently at his burning cheek and then slid his arms into the sleeves of his shirt.

  He became aware of Dog, sitting in the grass a few feet away, his yellow eyes watching Cody with interest.

  "Well, what are you looking at?" Dog blinked but didn't bother to move. With a snarl that would have been more appropriate coming from the dog, Cody jerked his shirt closed and began randomly thrusting buttons through buttonholes. His long legs ate up the distance to the camp, where Sara kept her back to him as she rolled her sleeping bag.

  Not another word was spoken until Cody moved to saddle the horses. Though every muscle in her body still protested when she moved, Sara was more determined than ever to show him that she could carry her own weight. She reached for Satin's saddle, feeling her shoulders creak as she lifted it. How on earth was she going to get it clear up onto the mare's back?

  Setting her chin stubbornly, she shuffled her way over to where Satin stood. The mare turned to look at her, and Sara thought she saw a look of pained resignation in those big brown eyes. She looked from the saddle to her goal and wondered if Satin had grown a foot taller since yesterday. With a muttered curse, she braced herself to swing the heavy leather saddle up onto the mare's back. Satin had turned her head away, as if she couldn't bear to watch the operation, and Sara murmured an apology.

  She took a deep breath and started to lift... only to almost lose her balance when the load was suddenly taken from her hands. Cody swung the saddle up easily, setting it on Satin's back as if it weighed no more than a basket woven of reeds. Sara turned, an angry protest ready to spill out. Her logic told her that she'd never have gotten the saddle high enough, but illogically she couldn't see that that gave him any right to interfere.

  "You'd never have made it," he said flatly, not even bothering to look at her.

  Sara's indignant protest died unborn as he turned and walked away. With a gesture that could only be labeled huffy, she spun back to the horse and finished saddling her. But her problems weren't over. Once the animal was saddled, there came the problem of getting her posterior into that saddle. There was no excuse for putting off the attempt. Cody had already cleared the camp and loaded the pack animals with his usual disgusting efficiency.

  She didn't hear him approach, but the sudden warmth at the back of her neck warned her as clearly as if he'd been wearing bells on his toes. He stopped right next to her, but Sara pretended to be very absorbed in studying the smooth leather of the saddle. She wasn't ready to meet those eyes yet. A tiny voice of caution warned her that looking into those brilliant eyes could be dangerous.

  "I'll give you a boost up." His husky voice sent a shiver up her spine. The feeling was, of course, revulsion.

  She cleared her throat. "That's okay, I can—"

  "No, you can't. I don't want to waste time arguing. Put your boot in my hands and I'll toss you into the saddle."

  Sara eyed the offered hands suspiciously. They were cupped at knee level, and looked warm and strong and more than capable of tossing her right over the top of the horse. Hesitantly, she set her booted foot in them and then gave a startled gasp as the muscles in his arms bulged and she was suddenly sitting in the saddle with no clear memory of how she'd gotten there. She turned to thank him but he was already gone, striding toward his own horse.

  She dragged her eyes away from that long-legged walk, trying not to remember the way his jeans molded the muscles of his thighs. Trying not to remember anything at all about him. She gathered the reins in her gloved hands and took a deep breath. She had to keep her thoughts focused firmly on getting to Cullen. There was danger in allowing herself to be sidetracked by emerald eyes and a mouth that promised a glimpse of heaven.

  Besides, she had to remember David. Dear, sweet David, who'd been so good to her. David, who wanted her to marry him. Why was it so hard to remember just what he looked like?

  Chapter 6

  They rode upstream, walking the horses along the edge of the streambed. Cody was vividly aware of the woman who rode behind the pack animals. She wasn't far enough away. But then, maybe there was nowhere on earth where she would be far enough away. He had the uneas
y feeling that he wasn't going to be free of her just because she was out of sight.

  He muttered a curse. She was sinking into his very soul. Under other circumstances he could have walked away before it was too late. But there was nowhere to go. No way to escape the spell she wove so gracefully.

  He drew Dancer to a halt, leaning down out of the saddle to pick up the wicker basket he'd abandoned earlier. The trout were gone, but he'd expected nothing else. Without careful examination, there was no way to know what kind of a creature had raided his catch. Coyote perhaps, maybe a fox. With a shrug, he tied the basket onto the saddle and clicked his tongue at Dancer, urging the stallion into a walk again. He was in no mood to stop for a trout breakfast, and he doubted if Sara was, either. Whatever had taken the fish was welcome to them.

  Sara looked up as Satin halted and then held her breath. Cody was leaning so far out of the saddle, she was sure he was going to fall on his head at any moment. He picked something up off the ground and tied it onto his saddle. Without looking back, he started Dancer in motion again and the pack horses obediently trailed along after him, followed by Satin.

  Sara relaxed her body into the saddle, ignoring her aching muscles. She was in good shape; it wouldn't take long for her to adjust to this mode of travel. Besides, even if she were crippled for life, all that really mattered was finding Cullen.

  Cullen was all she cared about. He was all she had. He was her younger brother and best friend in one package. She'd valued his pragmatic outlook on life almost since he'd learned to talk. He'd inherited all of Evan's calm control and practicality, and in many ways she'd depended on Cullen as much as he had on her.

  She was ashamed to admit that for a little while, wrapped in Cody's arms, she'd almost forgotten the reason they were here. His mouth had driven every thought from her except the elemental needs he aroused. She lifted her free hand and touched her mouth uncertainly. Even through the leather of her gloves, she could almost feel the heated legacy of that kiss.