He reached toward her shadow-shape and found her arm. A small shock went through him when he touched her, felt her warmth and substance, smooth soft skin over firm muscle, nerves jumping and pulse racing against his fingertips. He felt a strange sense of recognition, and of pleasure, and longing.

“Can you see well enough to follow me?” he asked hoarsely.

There was a pause; he thought she nodded. Then she said, “Yeah, I think so.”

“Okay, then-stay close.” And he started up the zigzagging trail he knew would take them to the mouth of a cave about halfway up the canyon wall.

He had no trouble finding it. In a way it seemed like only yesterday, the last time he’d been here, though in reality it had probably been more like fifteen years. That was the thing about natural landmarks, he thought; in the short term mountains and canyons and rock formations didn’t change much. He went in first, just to make sure nothing-or nobody-had taken up residence there in the past dozen or so years. It felt unoccupied-nothing rustled or scuttled away into deeper shadows at his intrusion-and smelled like all caves do, just vaguely dank and fusty.

“Okay, you can bed down here,” he said gruffly, and turning, found that, instead of staying out on the edge where he’d left her, Lauren had followed him into the cave and was right there beside him. So close her clothing brushed his. He heard her breathing, rapidly after the climb, and felt her body heat.

His heart swelled and bumped against his throat. All at once he knew that he didn’t dare touch her. Not even to take her hand.

“There’s food in there,” he mumbled, dumping the saddlebags onto the floor of the cave at her feet. “If you’re hungry. I’ve got to go see to the horses. Be right back.” He didn’t wait for her reply, but lunged for the mouth of the cave and out into the cool starry night like a suffocating man craving air.

Down on the floor of the canyon, he unsaddled Red and rubbed him down, then took off his bridle and turned him loose to graze. But instead of immediately testing his freedom, the stallion turned his head and nibbled at Bronco’s shoulder, then gave a low-pitched nicker of concern.

Can he feel it? Bronco wondered. There was a strange vibration in his muscles, a quivering down deep in his insides, but whether of fear, excitement or some kind of warning he couldn’t have said. He’d never felt such a thing before.

“Go on, boy,” he murmured, sending the horse off with a wave. “You’ve earned a good roll…” He hoped ol’ Red wouldn’t go too far away. He’d probably have to go looking for him in the morning, but this was cougar country. A healthy horse could outrun a lion, but not when he was hobbled or tied.

He carried the saddle to a rock pile and heaved it onto a good-size boulder. Then, taking the bridle with him, he climbed back up to the cave.

Even before he went inside he could hear the soft even sound of her breathing. “Lauren?” he called in a whisper, already sure that she was asleep. A wave of emotion rippled through him, almost like a shudder. Again he wasn’t sure what name to give it-relief or disappointment.

The moon was just lifting above the clouds when Bronco settled himself with his back against the wall near the mouth of the cave. The cool gray light reached into the cave and across the floor to touch the head of the woman who slept there with her head pillowed on saddlebags. Like a spotlight, it shone on the fall of hair that cascaded over dark leather to pool on the sandy floor, and turned it into a river of silver.

Bronco stared at that pale hair until his vision blurred, and when he closed his eyes the image remained, as though it had been branded on his retinas.

Chapter 10

Lauren awoke with her body in a sweaty throbbing fever, and in her mind the fading memory of erotic dreams.

She wasn’t sure what had woken her until it came again-a high blood-stirring scream-and she recognized it instantly as a stallion’s bugling challenge, a clarion call to battle.

A quick glance around confirmed that she was alone in the cave, that whatever it was that had Cochise Red so excited, Bronco had already gone to investigate. She hoped it was relief that made her, with rapidly thumping heart, exhale a long slow breath and for a moment close her eyes.

It must be relief, relief that he wasn’t there to see her while her cheeks still burned, her body’s secret places still throbbed and every nerve felt supersensitized by the dream-caresses of a lover whose face she couldn’t quite remember. But-oh, be honest-there was something else, too, a vague sense of disappointment, of longing, of need.

She sat up and saw sunlight pouring into the mouth of the cave. Wobbly as a toddler woken too soon from a nap, she started to throw aside the blanket she’d slept in- Bronco’s blanket, the same one he’d placed around her last night just before he’d wrapped her in his arms. Then she paused, moving her fingers slowly in the blanket’s folds, feeling its coarse weave, the slight scratchiness of wool. She almost-almost-lifted it to her face; the impulse was there, in her nerves and muscles, ligaments and tendons. But she stopped herself in time. There was no need to do such a thing, when his scent was all around her, permeating the very source of her warmth and comfort.

When the stallion’s scream came again, she scrambled to her feet and lurched to the cave entrance. Dazzled by the sun’s brightness, it was a moment before she saw Bronco. He was climbing toward her up the trail, wearing just his jeans and white Stetson, with his hair tightly clubbed at the nape of his neck. A sheen of moisture gave his skin the look of oiled wood and made of his body a classic sculpture rendered in mahogany.

Her heart gave a terrifying lurch and she uttered a small but distinct gasp, which Bronco heard and mistook for alarm. He shook his head in reassurance as he offered her a succinct explanation. “Wild horses.”

This time Lauren’s gasp was of excitement and delight. “Really? Oh, my God. I didn’t know there were wild horses around here. Where? Are they…?” She was about to go plunging headlong down the trail to see for herself when he stopped her with another shake of his head.

“Can’t see ’em, but they’re out there somewhere. Red knows. He’s invaded another stallion’s territory.” Bronco grinned, which Lauren thought made him look rather endearingly like a proud father. “He’s ready to challenge the local chief for his brood mares. Did you hear him?”

“Woke me up.” She smiled back at him. And then felt vaguely foolish, standing there with the sun in her eyes, overheated and inexplicably breathless. She’d almost forgotten how potent that smile of his could be.

“I tied him up-the mares, too,” he said as he joined her on the ledge, which suddenly seemed too small and very crowded. “Don’t want to take a chance they might run off with the wild herd. It’s a long walk out of here on foot.” He offered her the canteen, cool and dripping, freshly filled from the stream on the canyon floor.

She took it from him, opened it and drank deeply. When she paused to catch the dribbles that had escaped down her chin, she discovered that Bronco was watching her narrowly. In response, her heart lurched…and quickened.

He frowned as he turned away. “I expect you’re hungry.”

She followed him into the cave, where he knelt and scooped up the saddlebags that had been her pillow. She wondered, as she watched him open one of the pouches, where he had slept-or if he’d slept at all. She wondered other things as she watched the elegant ripple and flow of muscle beneath glistening skin, such as what his skin would taste like, how it might feel on her tongue.

He glanced up as he handed her a vacuum-sealed pouch filled with some sort of liquid and, misinterpreting her expression, smiled wryly. “Doesn’t look like much, but it’ll fill your belly. It’s a protein drink designed for armies on the move.”

She nodded and took it from him, not trusting herself to speak even a single word. Her stomach growled as if mocking her; she didn’t feel as though she’d be capable of swallowing.

Bronco, meanwhile, was tearing open a package of tortillas with his teeth. He offered it to her and she took one, then ripped off a piece of the flat unleavened bread and put it in her mouth. Chewed mechanically and swallowed hard. Following Bronco’s example, she twisted off the seal on the plastic pouch and took a tentative drink. It tasted rather like a tepid vanilla malt.

“I’ve always wanted to try one of those milk shake diet plans,” she muttered. He laughed, and she felt incomprehensibly pleased.

But while he made himself comfortable, half leaning, half sitting on a sloping boulder, Lauren found herself suddenly a bundle of nerves, self-conscious and ill at ease in a way that brought back painful memories of her first boy-girl party.

Turning away from the disturbing sight of Bronco’s smooth chest and broad shoulders gleaming in reflected sunlight, she wandered slowly, nibbling tortilla and sipping protein drink with feigned nonchalance, exploring the cave’s cool shadows.

Though there wasn’t a lot to explore-the portion of the cave with a ceiling high enough to allow her to stand extended no more than eight feet from the entrance. Beyond that, smooth stone sloped unevenly down to meet the boulder-strewn floor, although there seemed to be narrow fissures that extended deeply into the canyon wall. It was while she was crouched down to investigate one of these fissures that Lauren made a wondrous discovery.

“Bronco,” she cried, “come look at this! Is this what I think it is?” Getting no immediate response, she turned and saw that he was sitting where she’d left him, silhouetted against the sunlit opening. He’d taken off his hat and turned his head to watch her.