The Gambler (24 page)

“Tired?" he asked.

"Yes."

It seemed to Raven in that instant that this was the first time she had admitted a weakness without blanching, without a second thought. "I'm sorry to make you spend the night here in the woods." He watched her as he spoke, knowing he was a fool to do so, for looking at her had a tendency to weaken his best intentions.

She said nothing, but continued to watch the flames.

“There's a good soft spot beneath that bent pine," he said, nodding toward a gargantuan tree that leaned toward their blaze, sheltering a small alcove beneath. "Years of fallen needles. Fairly dry. Probably the most comfort to be found until we reach Jordan."

She lifted her face to stare at him. For a moment, Raven felt the air trap in his lungs as the firelight illumined and shadowed the fine hollows of her face. "What?"

Realizing that she hadn't been listening, he longed to know what it was she considered so deeply.

"I said, there's a good spot for bedding down beneath that tree," he repeated. "Like a natural..." Why was it that he lost his train of thought when he looked at her? It wasn't right. Wasn't smart and certainly wasn't safe. He lived by his wits. Had for years. "Like a natural tent," he finished abruptly, pulling his gaze quickly from her to unwrap the blankets.

"You sleep there."

Her words surprised him. He foolishly raised his gaze too abruptly, shocking himself with her numbing beauty once again. "I like to think I'm not a completely unredeemable bast... scoundrel," he said, trying to concentrate on his words. "You take that spot."

She was silent, looking very serious and watching him. "I suppose... I mean, we could... share that shelter. After all, it might rain."

But there hadn't been a cloud all day. Raven stared at her, transfixed, knowing he should draw away and find a really first-rate reason why he couldn't share that particular piece of ground. For, in fact, he had one. Lust! Hot, deep burning, and nearly out of control.

"I really think it would be better if we—"

"You might catch a fever," she interrupted quickly, then slowed her words to add, "if you get wet."

Her expression was soft as the night air, as hopeful as a child's. But hopeful for what exactly?

"Charm, I really think..." Raven began again, but paused now. Seeing some vulnerability in her eyes, he pushed his fingers through his hair and fought to remain strong as the silence lengthened.

She bit the inside of her lip and watched him. "I wouldn't molest you, if that's what you're worried about."

Nothing she could have said would have surprised him more. He laughed aloud, startled by her rare show of humor.

"Well..." He lowered his arm slowly. "That surely does ease my mind, Miss Charm."

He couldn't quite tell if the shadow of a smile tilted her lips or if it was merely the natural curve of her bright, delicious mouth. But whatever the case, she continued to watch him, her gaze ultimately steady.

His own smile dropped away. "It's not that I don't appreciate your trust." It was simply that he didn't deserve it. "But I..."

She was holding her breath again. He could tell, even from where he sat. "All right," he heard himself say. How was it that she thwarted all his best intentions?

After dousing the fire, Raven spread a single blanket and sat down upon the cushion of needles he had admired earlier. Then he waited, raising his brows and gazing at Charm. She stood not far away, looking unreasonably shy, considering this had been her idea. Raven leaned back on the heels of his hands, watching her through the slanted boughs of the ancient pine.

"It's all right if you've changed your mind," he said softly.

Apparently those were the words most effective for allaying her fears, Raven realized. But whether that was desirable or not was now debatable. For regardless of his own misgivings, she came. Carrying her bedroll, she bent beneath the leaning branches and sat stiffly near the slanted trunk.

"So tell me, Lucky Charm," Raven said finally, unable to hold back his curiosity. "Do you think you can trust me because I'm too weak to be a threat, or is there another reason?"

The moonlight was refracted by the branches, gently shadowing her face. She said nothing.

Raven waited, watching her as she remained upright and stiff. "Guess you don't trust me enough to remove your shoes," he said finally.

Her gaze lifted, like the startled, wide-eyed stare of a doe.

"Still afraid the sight of your feet might be too much for my shaky self-control?" He considered laughing, but she dropped her eyes nervously away, and he held back his humor. "Take a risk." He hadn't meant to say it, for they were already taking too large a risk, being together as they were.

"What?" The question was breathy.

"Take a risk," he foolishly repeated. "Remove your shoes."

"But..."

"Better yet, let me."

Her mouth fell open, as if he'd asked her to run naked through the pines with him. But he ignored her expression and crept slowly forward to sit near her feet.

"It's just your shoes, Charm," he reminded softly, watching her face and seeing that she was just about ready to scramble away. "I really think I can resist the sight of your feet."

From somewhere far away came the haunting sound of a coyote.

"What do you say?" he asked quietly.

"Why?" The single word sounded very tense.

"Why not?"

She swallowed. "That's no reason."

"Do you need a reason for everything? Don't you ever just..."—he shrugged—"do things?"

"No."

Raven drew a deep breath. "Neither do I. Perhaps we're missing something. You're so serious."

"But I'm still alive."

It was immediately clear she hadn't meant to say those words. He watched a look of regret and confusion cross her face. He fashioned a grin, not moving, trying to make light of the situation. "I don't think it'll kill you if I take off your shoes, Charm."

They sat in silence. Her knees were pulled to her chest and her eyes were like bright emeralds as she watched him.

“Tell you what. I'll take off my boots first. To prove my good faith. If I'm struck dead, you can keep yours on."

He wasn't positive, but he thought he saw a whisper of a smile lift her lips. It intrigued him and somehow made his heart ache. "All right, here goes. Pray for me," he said and placed his hands above the heel of one boot. There he stopped, screwing up his face and closing his eyes, as if fearful lightning would somehow find and sear him to cinders.

"You're teasing me."

Very soft now, her voice didn't seem to hold resentment.

He opened his eyes. "Yes, I am," he said and saw now that she was smiling shyly. The pain that had begun at his heart swept outward, making it difficult to speak. "You are an extremely beautiful woman."

Her expression faltered slightly, leaving the frightened doe look again.

"Now you say, 'Thank you, Joseph,'" Raven coached.

The smile brightened slightly. "The name Joseph seems quite... personal."

"Ah, but you forget." He pulled off his first boot with a flourish and held the thing aloft for a moment. "We are now at a very personal stage in our relationship. The..."—he tugged his other boot free—"shoe removal stage." He raised his brows at her, and, wonder of wonders, she laughed.

"Now you're making fun of me."

"No, I'm not." He set the boots aside and searched her face for fear. It was still there, though mostly hidden by other emotions and shadows. "How do you sit like that?"

"Like what?" She hugged her knees more closely to her chest, so that her chin was just above them.

"Like that." He watched her.

"I just do." She shrugged, looking nervous.

He sighed. "Can't do that," he said, making a feeble attempt before settling back onto one palm. "Men must be made different."

Surprisingly, she responded, though slowly. "Entirely different species, I think."

"You're doing very well here, Charm," he said with a smile. "Carrying on a ridiculously inane conversation and still breathing. I think you could manage the shoe thing."

A long, burnt-cinnamon lock had come loose from her knot of hair. She pushed it back. "You think I'm a dolt."

"Hardly that," he said seriously.

"You think I'm a frightened little mouse."

Raven clenched his teeth, suddenly feeling inexplicably protective of this young beauty before him. "I think I'd like to kill whoever has hurt you."

He had not intended to be so blatantly honest. He found suddenly that they were both silent, waiting.

"All right." She said the words very suddenly, as though she had to chase them out before they became trapped in her throat. "I'll take my shoes off."

"Oh no," he said on a smooth exhalation. "That wasn't the deal. Either I take them off or those things stay on."

Her laughter could light up the night and seemed to do just that.

"Is there something I should know about your strange affinity for feet?"

He laughed now too. Who would have thought the girl had a sense of humor? "Feet? No. But elbows!" he said and shot her left arm a lascivious glance.

She drew her knees in more sharply, as if she might crawl within herself. Raven sighed mentally.

"Tell me who it was who has scared you so, Charm."

Silence settled between them.

"Are you going to take off my shoes or am I going to have to sleep with them on again?"

How did one attempt to breach the emotional wall Charm had so effectively erected? Raven wondered, but now hardly seemed the time to discuss it. Reaching slowly for her lades he tugged the first one free. Her full skirt and petticoats made an effective barrier between him and her legs and fell full-length down to her shoe tops. Still, there was an intimacy somehow that baffled and exhilarated him. Easing the lace loose in its holes, he slipped his hand behind her heel to gently pull the shoe away.

"There." He set it aside and watched her face, wondering if she looked pale. "That wasn't so bad was it?"

"Almost... bearable," she said, and he grinned at her before reaching for her second foot.

This time he made so bold as to touch her ankle as he tugged the shoe free, and now they sat, staring at each other like two errant schoolchildren.

"Well..." He took a deep breath, remembering a time when he had actually touched a woman's bare skin, had felt her move beneath him. Yet somehow it seemed that those times had held no more excitement for him than this. He was a sick man, Raven deduced wryly. "We'd better get some sleep.

"Would you kiss me?"

He was quite certain his heart stopped beating. For a moment he considered giving his chest a good hard rap to start it up again. "No." It was amazing how a person could sometimes force himself to say almost anything. "I won't."

"Why?" Her voice was nothing if not surprised.

"Because you'd hate me. Not to mention the fact that you'd probably kill me."

"What if I promised not to?"

"Not to hate me or not to kill me?"

"Both."

He ran his fingers through his hair, wondering how fast he could saddle his horse and get the hell out of there. But he couldn't decide which was more cowardly, staying or leaving, so he stayed. "You're a very confusing young woman, Charm. First I can't touch your shoes, now you want to be kissed."

He could hear her draw a breath. "You think
I'm
not confused?"

On the contrary, he thought, she was very confused. She was confusing him with someone who had the strength to kiss her and go no further. All he'd bargained for was shoe removal, and that was stretching his limits. "Why?"

She hugged her legs more tightly against her chest, looking very small. "Why what?"

Oh for God's sake! he wanted to yell, but he kept rigid control and asked, "Why do you want me to kiss you?"

"Well..." Her voice was tight. "The usual reasons. You know."

He wanted to laugh, but every fiber in his body felt taut as a bow string, from his throat on down, making it impossible. "No. I don't."

She swallowed. "Neither do I," she finally whispered. "What
are
the usual reasons?"

Why not just kiss her and get it over with? Raven wondered rather wildly, but good sense made him answer instead, for rushing the girl would be a bad bet. "Oh... desire," he breathed. "Lust." He frowned, wondering if she had meant to make him think this hard. "Love maybe. Curiosity."

"How about fear?"

"Fear? No. I'm afraid people don't kiss out of fear."

"I hate being afraid."

"Forgive me for not following your line of reason."

"Maybe I'll get over it... if I kiss you." Raven frowned again, thinking he should, perhaps, be insulted. "So it'd be a kind of experiment?"

"Yes."

"And I'd be nothing more than a sort of lowly, ignorant test animal."

She blinked, looking young and sweet and chagrined. "Well, rather like that, yes." Raven shrugged. "That sounds reasonable."

"But... no hands," Charm said.

She could see Raven watching her in the darkness. "What?" he asked.

"You can't... touch me." She knew she was crazy, and yet, never in her life had she felt it was so possible to overcome her fear of men. "Can you do that?" Her question was little more than a breath of uncertainty to her own ears.

It took him a few seconds to answer. "Of course."

"All right."

Neither one moved.

"How... um..." She felt as if she might faint and half hoped she would. "How do we go about this?"

"Well," he began, raising his brows slightly. "Folks usually trust their instincts in the heat of the moment."

She blinked. "Oh."

"It's not usually discussed to death beforehand. Usually a passionate embrace, that sort of thing."

"Oh. Then you mean we can't—"

"I'm sure we can," he interrupted swiftly, then grinned in that self-deprecating manner she had almost learned to expect from him.

"Then..." Though she tried, she found she could not finish the question.

"Lie down."

"What?" Her tone was panicked and her throat felt tight.