your friends how well you fuck?”
That thumb didn’t even break rhythm. “And here I was thinking I won’t get a wink of sleep watching my wife shiver in her blankets.”
She wrenched her arm from his grip and stomped back to his bedroll. She threw the blankets down atop the saddle. “Do me a favor.”
He came quietly up behind her, but it didn’t matter. The man had too much presence to sneak. The hairs on the back of her neck always warned her when he was around. “What?”
“Don’t try to dress it up prettily.”
“Dress what up?”
She glanced across the fire. Tracker and Sam were staring hard at the flames, pretending not to be aware of what was going on. She lowered her voice. “What’s going to happen here tonight.”
She couldn’t see his eyes under the brim of his hat, but she could see the quirk of his lips. “You got something against sleep?”
She turned and slammed her hands on her hips, anger writhing through her like a living thing. “Stop it. Just stop pretending. If all you were planning to do was sleep, we wouldn’t be over here and—” she kicked the pile of blankets “—we wouldn’t be sharing a bedroll.”
A log popped on the fire. She jumped and spun around. By the time she turned back, Caine was right there, close enough that the edge of his poncho touched her coat. His coat. She swallowed and risked a look at his face. He didn’t look angry, but with him, who could tell? His hand lifted. She flinched. His eyes narrowed. She braced her spine for the blow that was coming. His fingers grazed her jaw, slid along the bone, feather-light, but the drag of the rough callus left no doubt he was strong. His thumb came to rest against her mouth as his fingers cradled her cheek.
“The bedrolls are over here because we thought you might be a bit uncomfortable without privacy. The bedrolls are together because it’s damn cold and you’ve taken enough chill for one day, and also because you’re my wife, and my wife sleeps by me.”
“Why?” It felt strange to speak against his thumb, but she didn’t let that stop her.
“Because it’s my right to protect you.”
She pulled back against his hold. “I don’t need your protection.”
“Too bad. You’ve got it anyway.” He motioned to the right. “You got any business to take care of before we call it a night?”
The blush rose despite her desire to contain it. “No.”
“Good.” He bent, and with a few flicks of his wrists, resettled the blankets. “’Cause I’m beat.”
“Don’t you have to stand guard?”
“It’s my wedding night. Tracker and Sam are giving me the night off as a wedding present.”
Just what she needed. She glared at the two men. “What was my present?”
His lips quirked and he pushed a strand of hair behind her ear. “Me.”
It just burst out. “I got shortchanged.”
Unbelievably, he laughed. “I imagine you see it that way now.”
He sat down on the blankets, sliding his hand down her neck, her shoulder, her arm, hooking her wrist in his grip when he reached the ground and tugging her down. “But you won’t always.”
He had no idea what she thought and what she planned. She fell, more than sat, beside him. He caught her the way he always did, as if nothing ever threw him off guard. He lay back against the saddle, his hand anchoring her wrist. “Lie down. Morning will be here before you know it.”
An owl hooted in the distance. The first she’d heard this spring. Was it a good omen or a bad one? She didn’t know, but looking at the sheer size of the man waiting for her to bed down beside him, she had to pray it was good.
“I don’t have a pillow.”
He patted the broad expanse of his shoulder. “I’ve got your pillow right here.”
He expected her to sleep against him. She bit her lip. The wind blew, rattling the bushes. A cold chill went down her spine. Caine’s smile faded to a frown. He pulled her toward him, lifting her arm over his head, directing her fall
That thumb didn’t even break rhythm. “And here I was thinking I won’t get a wink of sleep watching my wife shiver in her blankets.”
She wrenched her arm from his grip and stomped back to his bedroll. She threw the blankets down atop the saddle. “Do me a favor.”
He came quietly up behind her, but it didn’t matter. The man had too much presence to sneak. The hairs on the back of her neck always warned her when he was around. “What?”
“Don’t try to dress it up prettily.”
“Dress what up?”
She glanced across the fire. Tracker and Sam were staring hard at the flames, pretending not to be aware of what was going on. She lowered her voice. “What’s going to happen here tonight.”
She couldn’t see his eyes under the brim of his hat, but she could see the quirk of his lips. “You got something against sleep?”
She turned and slammed her hands on her hips, anger writhing through her like a living thing. “Stop it. Just stop pretending. If all you were planning to do was sleep, we wouldn’t be over here and—” she kicked the pile of blankets “—we wouldn’t be sharing a bedroll.”
A log popped on the fire. She jumped and spun around. By the time she turned back, Caine was right there, close enough that the edge of his poncho touched her coat. His coat. She swallowed and risked a look at his face. He didn’t look angry, but with him, who could tell? His hand lifted. She flinched. His eyes narrowed. She braced her spine for the blow that was coming. His fingers grazed her jaw, slid along the bone, feather-light, but the drag of the rough callus left no doubt he was strong. His thumb came to rest against her mouth as his fingers cradled her cheek.
“The bedrolls are over here because we thought you might be a bit uncomfortable without privacy. The bedrolls are together because it’s damn cold and you’ve taken enough chill for one day, and also because you’re my wife, and my wife sleeps by me.”
“Why?” It felt strange to speak against his thumb, but she didn’t let that stop her.
“Because it’s my right to protect you.”
She pulled back against his hold. “I don’t need your protection.”
“Too bad. You’ve got it anyway.” He motioned to the right. “You got any business to take care of before we call it a night?”
The blush rose despite her desire to contain it. “No.”
“Good.” He bent, and with a few flicks of his wrists, resettled the blankets. “’Cause I’m beat.”
“Don’t you have to stand guard?”
“It’s my wedding night. Tracker and Sam are giving me the night off as a wedding present.”
Just what she needed. She glared at the two men. “What was my present?”
His lips quirked and he pushed a strand of hair behind her ear. “Me.”
It just burst out. “I got shortchanged.”
Unbelievably, he laughed. “I imagine you see it that way now.”
He sat down on the blankets, sliding his hand down her neck, her shoulder, her arm, hooking her wrist in his grip when he reached the ground and tugging her down. “But you won’t always.”
He had no idea what she thought and what she planned. She fell, more than sat, beside him. He caught her the way he always did, as if nothing ever threw him off guard. He lay back against the saddle, his hand anchoring her wrist. “Lie down. Morning will be here before you know it.”
An owl hooted in the distance. The first she’d heard this spring. Was it a good omen or a bad one? She didn’t know, but looking at the sheer size of the man waiting for her to bed down beside him, she had to pray it was good.
“I don’t have a pillow.”
He patted the broad expanse of his shoulder. “I’ve got your pillow right here.”
He expected her to sleep against him. She bit her lip. The wind blew, rattling the bushes. A cold chill went down her spine. Caine’s smile faded to a frown. He pulled her toward him, lifting her arm over his head, directing her fall
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