The Passionate Lover Read online

  His mouth quirked. 'The last time I did that I landed up in the snow.'

  'This is hardly the same situation!'

  'No?'

  'No!' She struggled to get to her feet on her own, her face paling as she did so, beads of perspiration dampening her brow. But not for anything would she cry out at the pain in her ankle. She moistened her lips, biting down into the softness of her lower one, knowing that she was soon going to have to earn the scorn of the autocratic man who towered over her, because she simply couldn't get up on her own.

  Kyle seemed to sense some of her discomfort at that moment, frowning heavily. 'What is it?'

  'I—Oh!' she gasped as she moved too quickly and the pain in her ankle became excruciating. 'It's my ankle,' she admitted as Kyle bent down on his haunches beside her. 'I—I think it could be broken.'

  He couldn't hide the look of irritation that crossed his face, and he didn't even try to, impatience etched into his face as he swung her up in his arms, turning abruptly in the direction of the cabin, seeming too angry to even speak.

  'I couldn't help it,' Shelby finally felt compelled to mutter, her arms up about his neck as he carried her, uncomplaining of the pain the latter caused to her ankle.

  Kyle's jaw was rigid as he walked on. 'It seems you never can,' he bit out.

  She flushed at the derisive rebuke. 'I was only trying to get us help!'

  'And instead you've brought us even more trouble,' he rasped grimly as he deposited her on her bed without preamble, going towards the kitchen area to come back with a knife. 'It's to cut off your boot,' came his exasperated explanation as her eyes widened fearfully.

  She could have cried at her foolishness. Of course it was to cut off her boot, what else had she thought it was for! She may be a pain in the neck as far as Kyle was concerned but she didn't think even he would resort to cutting it. 'Isn't cutting my boot off a little drastic?' she pleaded as he moved threateningly towards the fitted leather.

  'Can you get it off without it?'

  In truth her ankle did feel swollen, and the already fashionably fitted boot was difficult enough to get on and off without that. But she gritted her teeth and pulled at it, determined Kyle shouldn't cut it from her foot and so render her shoeless. The last thing she wanted was to be confined to the cabin indefinitely, although the pain and swelling in her ankle seemed to imply she wouldn't be going very far for a while.

  Kyle came down on his haunches beside her to peel off the sock and look at the swollen flesh, hurting her despite the gentleness of his hands. 'I don't think anything is broken,' he said grimly as he tightly bandaged the injured area. 'But you'll have to stay off it until we get back to the ranch and it can be X-rayed.'

  Shelby was very pale from the effort it had taken not to cry out as he manipulated her ankle, and as a result she felt irritable and moody. 'And when do you think that will be?' she asked in a disgruntled voice. 'Now that the only chance of rescue we've had has disappeared over the horizon!' she added accusingly.

  Kyle straightened, shrugging out of his thick outer clothing. 'If the weather holds off—and by that I mean we don't get any more snow,' he drawled, 'I think we should be picked up some time tomorrow.'

  'That's all right for you to say, but— Did you say tomorrow?' she gasped in realisation.

  He nodded. 'All being well.'

  'But—I—You—How can you be so certain?' she demanded disbelievingly.

  'I can't be certain,' he dismissed, filling the kettle and putting it on the boil. 'No one ever can in this climate. The blizzard might start up again tonight and delay things for a few days. But at least they know where we are now, so—'

  'They do?' Shelby frowned.

  He gave her an impatient look. 'You surely don't think I spent the entire day just looking around?' he derided.

  'Well I— You said—' She gave up trying to argue with him, knowing that out here he had all the advantages. God, what she wouldn't give to have him in London for a few weeks, on her own territory, and see how he coped out of his depth in London society. Just the thought of it cheered her up, although she knew it would never happen. According to Kenny most of his cousin's travelling was done within America. 'How did you spend the day?' she asked resignedly.

  'Building a marker out on the lake for the plane to see.'

  'What lake?' she looked even more puzzled.

  'The one just out there.'

  Shelby tried to recall a mental picture of the terrain in the direction he pointed, the wide expense of flat white snow at the back of the cabin now taking on more meaning. 'That's a lake?' she realised.

  'In the summer it is,' Kyle answered with amusement, handing her the mug of hot coffee. 'In the winter it should make a good helicopter pad.'

  She swallowed hard. 'Is it strong enough?' She had a horrifying vision of their rescuers being sucked down to the bottom of the lake as the ice cracked beneath them.

  'The ice is feet thick. It will hold,' he nodded confidently.

  'Then why couldn't you have told me that earlier?' she snapped her anger.

  'Maybe I should have done,' he scowled. 'Then you wouldn't have tried to play the heroine and ended up immobile!'

  She flushed at his scorn. 'You can't be sure they saw your marker,' she flashed.

  'They saw it,' he nodded. 'They dipped the wings of the plane in acknowledgement.'

  No wonder he had looked so unconcerned when the plane flew off, while she had felt all the despair of a near-rescue without a word of comfort from him. Kyle Whitney was not only the most insensitive man she had ever known, he was also the cruellest. But she didn't intend giving him the satisfaction of breaking down in front of him again. 'Then let's hope that the snow holds off for one more day at least,' she said waspishly. 'I can't wait to get away from here!' And you, her tone implied.

  He raised dark brows at her vehemence. 'You didn't feel that way a few minutes ago.'

  She met his gaze coolly, not pretending to misunderstand him. 'At that time I had no idea how long we were going to be stranded here.'

  His mouth tightened. 'And you didn't see any point in antagonising the only other person around when I so obviously wanted to kiss you.'

  'Exactly!'

  He turned away abruptly. 'I'll get dinner.'

  Shelby couldn't tell whether she had angered him or just annoyed him, but she felt elated that she had managed to elicit some reaction. He too often managed to make her feel foolish and inadequate, it felt good to turn the tables on him for once, even if only temporarily.

  But her brief moment of elation couldn't make up for the fact that Kyle spoke little throughout the remainder of the evening, picking out one of the paperbacks after dinner and becoming immersed in what was a typical Western tale of shootouts and betrayal, judging by the lurid cover depicting a gun-fight in the middle of a sleepy town's street.

  She did her own washing this evening, hopping over to the sink once she had changed into the unbecoming blanket, giving Kyle a grateful smile as he wordlessly pushed a chair in behind her.

  'Er—I'll do your things too—if you like,' she offered a few minutes later.

  'No, thanks,' he drawled.

  'It's no trouble,' she assured him awkwardly. 'I didn't think it would be,' he dismissed. 'But you've been on that ankle long enough for one night, it's time you laid down and rested it.'

  She was, in fact, feeling quite tired, but having Kyle more or less order her to bed rankled. She had never let a man make her decisions for her, not even Gavin, and she certainly wasn't about to let the forceful Kyle Whitney be the first to do so. 'I think I'll have another cup of coffee first,' she told him stubbornly. 'Would you like some?'

  He eyed her reprovingly over the top of his book, seeming to know the coffee was only a bid for independence and not really something she wanted or needed. 'No, thanks. But you go ahead,' he added uninterestedly.

  Shelby flushed her resentment. By giving his permission in that way he had taken all the independence out of the
action. 'I don't think I'll bother,' she muttered, hobbling back to her bed. 'Good night, Kyle,' she called softly once she was warmly beneath the quilt.

  ' 'Night,' he replied abruptly. 'Can I go on reading for a while or will the light disturb you?'

  'No. I mean—please continue to read,' she invited. 'The light doesn't bother me.'

  But the man sitting in the lamp-light did! What was it about the night hours that made her view him in this dangerous way? Anyone would think she really was a love-starved widow who needed a man to fulfil her. Which was ridiculous. She had never been that interested in the physical side of a relationship, and although her nights with Gavin had been enjoyable they certainly hadn't left her aching for a man in her bed since his death.

  There was something about Kyle that induced this longing within her, a yearning for the burning kisses of this afternoon, and with a self-disgusted groan she turned away from him towards the wall. She wasn't a very sensually aware woman, no matter what he might believe to the contrary, and whatever it was she felt for him she would fight it at all costs. How scornful he would feel if he realised her need of him!

  He was still reading when she finally fell into a restless sleep, her dreams consisting of erotic fantasies, all of them involving Kyle. They became so real, so very real, that she finally woke up in a cold sweat, her breathing unsteady as she turned to look at the man who tormented her. He seemed deeply asleep, the dark hair ruffled, the quilt covering his shoulders tonight, the cabin more chill than it had previously been.

  And the reason for that soon became patently obvious; the fire had burnt down to a few glowing ashes. Shelby felt a sudden warmth for the man across the room from her at that moment, knowing that he had been too tired tonight to maintain the fire as he had been doing. It somehow made him seem more human, and with an understanding smile in his direction she moved awkwardly across the room to quietly build up the fire, the flames leaping high among the logs within a few minutes.

  'Shelby?'

  She turned so suddenly at the sound of his voice that she twisted her injured ankle beneath her and went down on the ground with a pained cry.

  'What the—!' Kyle came fully awake as he realised her predicament, bounding out of bed to come towards her.

  Even in her discomfort Shelby was aware of his masculinity, struggling to get to her feet alone, knowing that in her already vulnerable emotional state that she couldn't bear it right now if he touched her. In her efforts to stand up she dislodged the quilt she had temporarily wrapped around herself, feeling it fall to the floor at her feet even as she straightened.

  Kyle suddenly stood very still, his body leaping in response to her golden nakedness, her breasts pert and upstanding, the nipples deeply brown, her waist slender, her hips narrow and provocative. He drew in a ragged breath. 'This time I'm not going to be able to say no,' he warned softly.

  She didn't want him to, sinking down on to the quilt with him even as his lips claimed hers. It seemed as if she had been waiting for this moment all her life, eagerly caressing the tan broadness of his shoulders and back, knowing that although Gavin had always kept himself physically fit he had never attained the lean fitness that came from working out on a land that made rugged individualists of any men brave enough to challenge it. Kyle Whitney was such a man.

  Kyle looked down at her as if suddenly sensing another man partly held her attention. 'Do you want me to stop?' he rasped.

  She knew that if she said yes then he would end this right now, but she didn't say yes, her answer much more tangible as she curved one hand about his nape and brought his mouth down to hers.

  Kyle's hands touched her everywhere, the curve of her breasts, the slope of her waist, the soft mound of her womanhood, pushing one of his legs between hers to allow him greater access to the latter, caressing her until she gasped for fulfilment.

  He was a master in the art of a woman's body, sought out pleasure spots she hadn't even guessed that she had, the curve of her spine knowing the rasp of his tongue as she squirmed beneath him in ecstasy, their bodies glowing deeply in the glow from the fire, the injury to Shelby's ankle forgotten—by both of them.

  But she wanted to touch him too, wanted to know what gave him pleasure, pushing him down beneath her to explore every muscled sinew of his body, feeling elated satisfaction as he shuddered and groaned his own pleasure in her touch.

  He could stand her torment no longer, pulling her on top of him, moving her hips erotically over his but still not making that final thrust that would join them together in total unity.

  Shelby felt a heady sense of power in her dominant position, teasing him with the promise of her mouth but denying him more than fleeting butterfly kisses that gave him no satisfaction at all, her hands light on his body as she caressed him, her breasts temptingly only inches from his face.

  It was so easy to forget who they were and where they were as Kyle lay her beneath him, his hair-roughened thighs between hers as he probed the intimacy of her body with unerring accuracy. He filled and possessed her completely, adjusting to the demand of her body before moving slowly inside her, each thrust deeper than the last, an unfamiliar warmth invading Shelby's lower body, spreading outwards and inwards, spiralling out of control as Kyle touched her hardened nipples with the warmth of his mouth at the same time.

  Her gasp of surprised pleasure was quickly followed by Kyle's throaty groan as he joined her on the plateau of ecstasy before they both floated slowly back to earth.

  Shelby had never known such true oneness, wanting to share her heady pleasure with Kyle.

  But he moved away from her to lie at her side, his arm still about her as he put her head on his shoulder, seeming disinclined to talk as she turned to look at him, all passion gone from his face as he stared sightlessly up at the ceiling.

  Her joyous words of a shared intimacy died in her throat at his remote expression, resting her head back on his shoulder to blink back her tears. Kyle couldn't have told her any more clearly that although he had enjoyed what had just happened he would have wished it had been with any other woman but her.

  She gave a pained cry of protest as he got up to leave her, unknowingly provocative as she leant up on one elbow to watch him, her breasts aroused and inviting even now.

  'So we don't freeze to death,' he told her dryly as he placed his own quilt on top of them before joining her again.

  Shelby snuggled up against him once more. 'Kyle—'

  'It's late,' he interrupted abruptly. 'I think you should go to sleep.'

  'But—'

  'It happened, Shelby,' he rasped. 'We can't undo that now.'

  She didn't want to, but he didn't seem to feel the same way. Obviously he hadn't felt the same uniqueness to their lovemaking that she had. Not even with Gavin, the man she had been married to for three years, had she known that mindless giving in to the senses. Maybe for Kyle she had just confirmed what he had always thought of her anyway, that any male body would do when she was in the mood for loving.

  But if he did feel that way it didn't stop him wanting her again in the night, waking her with the arousing caress of his mouth on her breasts, their coming together swifter this time if no less satisfying to them both.

  Shelby felt very cold when she woke the next morning, despite the warmth of the fire and the two quilts, her teeth chattering as she sat up to look about her with eyes that couldn't quite seem to focus. She was once again alone, and her efforts to get up and dress herself only resulted in her falling back against the quilts in heated exhaustion, her legs feeling like jelly.

  She was still lying there when Kyle came back into the cabin, his eyes narrowing on her flushed and tousled appearance. 'Shelby…?' he queried slowly.

  She blinked dazedly. 'I can't seem to get up,' her voice—if it were her voice!—came out rough and raspy, and her throat felt like sandpaper. She swallowed hard, looking up at him with pleading eyes. 'I think I'm going to be ill, Kyle,' she admitted shakily.

  He came dow
n on his haunches beside her, his hand resting briefly on her forehead. 'I would say that's an understatement,' he sighed. 'You're burning up!'

  'But I feel so cold,' she complained, her teeth starting to chatter again.

  He pulled the top quilt up to her throat. 'You have a temperature,' he scowled. 'At a guess I would say you're in for 'flu.'

  'I'm sorry,' she quivered, feeling tearful.

  His expression softened slightly. 'I'm not annoyed with you, Shelby,' his hand was gentle against her cheek. 'Only with the conditions we find ourselves in that make it impossible for me to get medical help for you.'

  'But you said they would come for us today,' she said agitatedly, turning to try and see out of the window. 'It hasn't snowed again?' she groaned her despair, feeling iller by the minute.

  'No, it hasn't snowed,' Kyle's mouth was tight. 'With any luck we'll be out of here soon.'

  She closed her eyes in relief. 'Thank God,' she sighed.

  'Yes,' he agreed harshly. 'I think you should try and get some more sleep now, and maybe you'll feel a little better afterwards.'

  She didn't seem to be having any choice in the matter, her lids remaining heavily closed.

  'Preferably in the bed,' she heard Kyle say as if from a great distance. 'Shelby? Shelby!' his voice sharpened with concern as he received no answer.

  She felt too comfortable to move, too sleepy to answer him, nestling down even further among the downy quilts. She heard him curse, knowing she should make an effort to listen to him if she didn't want him to get angrier than ever. But she couldn't make the effort, groaning her protest as the top quilt was turned back and a cold blast of air hit her body.

  'It's all right, Shelby,' Kyle's voice assured her softly as she made a half-hearted attempt to retrieve the quilt. 'I'm going to carry you to the bed now, you'll be more comfortable there.'

  She clung to him as he carried her across the room, shivering uncontrollably; sighing her satisfaction as he placed her down on the soft bed and covered her up warmly, asleep almost immediately.

  She knew nothing of the rest of the morning, not her delirious ramblings, nor the way that she threw off the covers completely as her body seemed to be on fire. She wasn't aware of Kyle's gentle comforting, or the way he constantly sponged down her body to bring down her temperature. And most of all she wasn't aware of the helicopter circling overhead before it landed.