Quicksilver Passion (43 page)

We’re wasting time,” Bill said and opened the door. Cold wind blew in.
It may be morning before we can get back with help, pard.”

Cherokee looked at the swirling snow outside.
If this keeps up, no one will be able to get back through the drifts. This country’s so unpredictable in the early spring.”

By damn, he hated to send them out in this weather!
Maybe her horse will go back to the stable and a search party will start out.”

Bill leaned forward, his hand behind his ear to catch the words.
Phash! You can’t count on that. The horse may find shelter out of the wind and not go home for days. There ain’t no other answer, Cherokee, face it—someone’s got to go for help and it’s got to be us! Now shut the door behind us, you’re wastin’ precious heat!”

The two went out and Cherokee closed the door, walked to the window, and watched. The pair trudged down the trail and out of sight.

The girl whimpered and he went over to her, realizing the room was chilly now. He got more wood and built the fire up. Still she shivered. He got extra blankets off the other beds, covered her, and checked the wound. It looked like it was still bleeding. He held her wrist and her pulse seemed weak to him.
Suppose she was dying? Was her heart still beating?

He slid his hand under the cover and put it on her breast. Her breasts were large and firm and warm. Immediately, she seemed to pull away from him.
No,” she whispered,
please no . . .”

Silver, you’re all right.” He took his hand away.
I won’t hurt you. I would never hurt you.”

He felt guilty as hell. When he had his hand cupping her breast, all he could think of was sucking that nipple until she arched up under him and opened her thighs wide to accept him. He wanted to make love to her, he thought, but he would never hurt her. There was something not quite right about a saloon whore afraid of a man’s touch. Surely she was used to men pawing her breasts when they used her for their pleasure.

Yet she looked so small and defenseless lying here. He brushed her hair away from her bruised forehead.
You’ll be fine, sweet darlin’, sweet Silver,” he murmured.
No one’s going to hurt you. They’d answer to me if they do.”

She shivered again and he remembered that her clothes were damp. He’d never get her warm unless he got those wet things off her. Very gently, he pulled back the covers and got a knife. He wasn’t going to disturb her trying to lift her out of those clothes. He took the knife, cut the shirt and pants away, and bared her body to the firelight.

What a beauty! She was small for a woman, narrow enough in the waist to span with his two big hands, but big breasted and wide-hipped. She was meant to mother a brood of children—or pleasure men.

He felt himself throb with desire just looking at her creamy body, then he chided himself. What kind of man was he that he could look at an injured, unconscious woman and all he could think about was how he would like to make love to her? Her full breasts moved with the effort of breathing and the hollow of her belly looked so inviting, he had to force himself not to lean over and kiss her there.

Silver moaned and thrashed about. Immediately he put out a restraining hand and she jerked away.
Silver, I won’t hurt you; I won’t let anyone hurt you. You’re safe with me. You’ve got my word on that.”