Beloved Outcast (17 page)

“Well, why didn’t you say so?”

She snapped her teeth together. The man was deliberately trying to flay her patience. She had no idea what he hoped to gain by goading her, but she’d had enough.

“Are you going to let go of my hands?”

“I’m not sure. Are you going to try and push me into another hot pool?”

The question was framed with a lazy kind of amusement that made her cheeks flame.

“If you’ll just leave me alone to enjoy my bath in private, I promise to refrain from any further attacks upon your person.”

His head bent, and he placed a kiss on both of her white-knuckled fists.

Having Logan’s black pelt of hair under the tip of her nose was disconcerting. She wanted to know how it would feel to thread her fingers through his thick, wavy locks.

He released his grip, and her hands hovered for a moment with no sure place to go. Before she did something so utterly devoid of morality as flinging them around his neck, she lowered the fisted palms to her sides.

“I really can’t leave you here unattended, Victoria. It wouldn’t be the responsible thing to do.”

He
was lecturing her about responsibility?

“I’m hardly in any danger of drowning.”

“A bear could come along, or a wolf, or another mountain cat—all with the intent of feasting upon your delectable hide. We wouldn’t want that to happen. Nor would we want a wandering Indian, should one venture by and catch a glimpse of you, having to fight off the temptation of making you his captive. It’s as basic as
ABC
that I should stay close to you.”

A signifying Abandonment. B
for
Base Urges.
And
C
for
Carnal Intentions,
she thought dourly.

“I’m not taking off this dress with you watching me!”

“I’ll turn my back like this,” he said, suiting his actions to his words. “You can peel down and slip into the water. Then I’ll shuck off my clothes and get into another pool.”

“I have no intention of seeing you naked!”

“Then close your eyes,” he told her, his back facing her.

She opened her mouth. Nothing came out. If this was his brilliant solution to the dilemma of her modesty, then. Then it should work well enough, she reflected glumly. As long as he didn’t kiss her, touch her or look at her, she should be relatively safe. Or as safe as she wanted to be.

Her fingers went to her top button, then paused. “I’ll give you fair warning, Logan Youngblood. I’m going to remove my clothing and avail myself of this hot water. If you turn around before I tell you to, if you make so much as one attempt to share this pool with me, or if you violate a single principal of gentlemanly conduct, I will…”

Oh, drat. She should have thought of what threat she would hold over his head before the actual moment arrived when she voiced it.

“What will you do, Victoria?”

The timbre of his voice was deep and husky. She shivered and released another button.

“I shall be very disappointed in you.”

“And?”

She finished unfastening her gown and slipped it off. “I know how to hold a grudge.”

“Do you now?”

The taunting drawl raised goose bumps on her arms and elsewhere.

She removed her shoes and stockings, then quickly shed her undergarments. And stood utterly nude, with Logan Youngblood scarcely a foot away. Feeling the sunshine and a soft breeze against her naked flesh while surrounded in bright sunlight seemed the height of wantonness. She kept her gaze locked on him, as if that would somehow prevent him turning around, and dipped her big toe in the water.

The temperature was perfect. With more haste than gracefulness, she lowered her left leg as far as it would stretch into the pool’s clear depths. She couldn’t feel the bottom, and it was difficult to judge just how deep the water was.

“Are you in yet?”

“No! Don’t turn around!”

Awkwardly she maneuvered herself so that she stepped into the pool backward. She balanced herself on the side and then let go. There was a splash, and a fast descent, and then the soles of her feet came into contact with the smooth rock bottom. She was standing in hot water that ended just below her bosom.

“Can I turn around?”

She encountered the scandalous sight of her bared breasts.

“No!”

“I thought I heard you get in.”

“Well, I’m not all the way in.” Bending her knees, she watched the tips of her breasts sink below the steamy surface.

Unfortunately, the pool was as clear as glass, and it scarcely mattered that her bosom was below the water’s rim.

“Uh, Logan…”

“What?”

“Could you walk a few more feet away and use the hot spring to your left?”

“I suppose so.”

“Well, do it. Then you can turn around.”

Surprisingly, he obeyed her request and approached the farthest pool before stopping and turning. Somehow, however, the additional few feet weren’t reassuring. Logan stood less than five yards away. Unsure of just how keen his vision was, she crossed her arms across her chest.

“It looks like you forgot something, honey.”

There was that endearment again. She decided to ignore his use of it, this once. “What?”

“Your dainty little bar of pink soap.” He smiled innocently. “Do you want it?”

“Of course I want it.”

“Then I better bring it to you.” He scratched his whiskered jaw. “That is, unless you want to climb out and get it.”

“Just shut up and hand it to me.”

He chuckled softly. “Anything you say.”

In several strides, he’d picked up the soap and stood at the pool’s edge, looking down at her. Her arms shielded her breasts, but there wasn’t much she could do about the rest of her.

“Now this is interesting,” he drawled wickedly.

“Just give me the damned soap.”

“For me to do that, you’re going to have to reach for it.”

She glared at him. He was right. Gingerly she slipped one arm free. Immediately her left breast slid into full view. A hot blush stung her cheeks. She refused to meet Logan’s gaze. Instead, she raised her hand, holding it above her, waiting for him to drop the cake of soap into her palm. Time stood still. It seemed to take forever for her to feel the weight of the scented bar in her hand. When she finally did, she curled her fingers around it and lowered her arm until it again cradled her.

The silence was as thick as the humid air that pressed against them.

“Victoria.”

She forced herself to raise her bowed head. Logan stood above her. His intense stare slammed into her composure
like a runaway locomotive bent on destroying anything in its path.

“I’ve never seen anything as beautiful as you.”

Breathing became a chore.

With his lean fingers, he began unbuttoning his shirt. She wanted to protest that he was standing much too close and he needed to retreat to the far hot spring. But her tongue proved useless, and she watched mutely as the edges of the blue military shirt parted and his darkly furred chest came into view.

He tugged his shirttail free from the waistband of his black trousers and shrugged off the garment, dropping it to the ground beside her discarded clothing.

His hands were on his belt buckle. She knew he was watching her watch him, but that knowledge wasn’t sufficient to make her look away. There was something so rawly mesmerizing about Logan’s unselfconscious actions that she was held spellbound.

The belt came off with a faint rasping sound.

His fingers moved to his trouser’s front closure.

“I should warn you, Victoria.” His voice was a thick growl.

“Okay.”

“When a man wants a woman, he can’t hide it.”

She saw the outline of the bulge that heralded his desire and knew he spoke the truth. Curiosity and a flood of burgeoning desire made it impossible to lower her eyelids.

The masculine striptease changed course for a moment as Logan balanced on his right foot and pulled off his boot, the remaining one followed in quick succession.

“The fact is,” he continued, his voice rushing over her like sweet honey that had been set ablaze, “men are built pretty basically. We see a woman who heats our blood, and we get hard.”

As he lowered the pants over his muscular flanks, she saw that he spoke the blunt truth. His male member sprang free, as bold and brash as the man himself. She shut her eyes. It
was too late, of course, much too late, to erase the primitive beauty of Logan Youngblood’s virile body from her mind. It occurred to her that he had behaved with far more discretion than had she. At least he’d turned his back while she undressed. She, on the other hand, had acted the part of one of those bad women Logan had described in such detail.

What was wrong with her? Why did she feel this strange lethargy that made her act so shamelessly? It was as if a stranger possessed her body, a stranger unable to resist Logan’s stark masculine appeal.

“Did I shock you, Victoria?”

No, I shocked myself!

From the retreating sound of his voice, she could tell he’d moved away. She heard a splash and knew he’d entered another pool. Her lashes raised slightly, then jerked upward. He’d availed himself of the hot spring right next to hers!

She snagged her lower lip between her teeth. After witnessing him remove his garments, she could scarcely assume the role of an outraged innocent.

She watched Logan lean back in his pool and tip his face toward the sun. He looked as if he hadn’t a care in the world. Didn’t it matter to him that their imminent return to civilization signaled an end to their time together, or that he was most likely facing a prison sentence?

Perhaps it was second nature for him to remain untroubled by what the future held. Maybe it was that attitude of unconcern that had led to his life of criminal activities.

Sighing, she worked the soap into a lather and scrubbed. It felt so good to be completely clean. She washed her hair three times, to make certain she’d dislodged every last bit of Idaho grime, before she set the scented bar on the ground next to her. Then she eased herself into a position similar to Logan’s, so that she rested the back of her head against the rock ledge.

The naturally heated water gradually relaxed her muscles to a state of boneless languor. Her eyelids drifted closed. If
she hadn’t feared drowning as a consequence, she would have succumbed to her growing lethargy and fallen asleep.

“How you doing over there?”

Logan’s rich voice nudged her to heightened alertness. She moved her hands through the water, savoring the feel of it against her skin. “I’m in heaven.”

“There’s nothing like a hot bath to improve a person’s mood,” he observed, sounding thoroughly content. “Are you willing to share that bar of soap with me?”

She smiled. “You’ll smell like a bouquet of roses.”

“I don’t mind. Toss it this way.”

She obliged him, and the pink bar sailed through the air. He caught it without mishap, and was soon up to his bearded jaw in pink lather.

Her smile became bittersweet. She would never understand him, this wild, reckless man who’d barreled into her life with such shattering force and who seemed content to live with no thought of the morrow.

They drifted into another companionable silence. Again Victoria found herself dozing. She had no idea how much time had elapsed before she heard the sounds of Logan emerging from his hot pool. One moment she was drifting in a sea of warmth, and the next her attention was captured by the unmistakable sounds of him rising from the hot pool. Instinctively she turned her head. Rivulets of water sluiced down him, leaving gleaming trails across his hair-roughened, muscular body.

Immediately she averted her gaze. It didn’t help her peace of mind to hear his husky chuckle.

“It’s a little late to turn shy, honey.”

She felt his shadow cover her and knew he was standing in front of her. “Now that I’ve satisfied my curiosity, there’s no need for me to view you further.”

Oh, Lord, she was in deep trouble. Why had she given in to the temptation to gaze upon his nude form?

“Give me your hand, Victoria.”

“Why would I want to do that?” she asked, striving for calm. Belatedly it occurred to her that she was in a delicate situation. Just how did she plan on getting out of the steep edged pool? She doubted she had the strength to haul herself directly upward and out of the five-foot hole, as Logan had done.

“It should be obvious to you, honey, that you’re going to need my help getting out of there.”

She raised her lashes. Planted squarely before her were two overly large male feet, supporting twin columns of wet hairy legs.

“I can see that. Now,” she muttered, vexed by her own lack of foresight, “may I suggest that you get dressed before assisting me from the pool?”

Surely it would be better if at least one of them was clothed. That way her naked skin wouldn’t brush against his, and a modicum of decency would be preserved.

“Yeah, you can suggest it,” he told her, with the satisfaction of a man who was in a superior bargaining position.

Odious creature. Odious, magnificently formed, breathstoppingly virile creature.

“Stop tormenting me,” she said firmly, striving for an air of authority, which wasn’t easy, as he was dripping puddles of water within scant inches of her. Not to mention the fact that from his vantage point he had a clear view of her. Naturally, her crossed arms shielded her bosom, but she suspected his gaze might be focussed elsewhere. And
elsewhere
was pulsing with disheartening enthusiasm. “Put your pants on!”

He hunkered down instead. Valiantly she exercised the resolve necessary to keep her gaze from drifting to that manly part of him which he apparently suffered no compunctions about displaying. Clearly, modesty and Logan Youngblood were strangers.

“I want to look at you. All of you. And I want you to look at me. All of me.”

“You know it wouldn’t stop at looking,” she said around the fullness that constricted her throat.

“I want to touch you, too. Wouldn’t you like to touch me?”

Why not ask whether she wanted to take her next breath? The answer would be the same.