Naked Edge by Pamela Clare
"Oh, that was just Julian. He said to let you know Sophie's having a girl."
Kat smiled. "I know. Kara and Holly sent me text messages, but I'm supposed to act surprised when Sophie calls because they think she wants to tell me herself."
Gabe shook his head. Women.
"I'M GOING TOO fast!" Breathless, Kat looked to Gabe, who skied down the hill backward in front of her, coaching her. How he managed to do that when she couldn't even ski forward without falling she couldn't say.
"You're fine! Go into the snow plough if you need to slow down, or turn your skis away from the fall line. There you go. You've got it. Now point and turn left."
And just like that, her feet seemed to take off without her, landing her on her butt in fluffy powder. It didn't hurt, of course. But the snow was cold, and getting up with big, slippery planks strapped to her feet wasn't easy.
She didn't know what had gotten into him that he'd suddenly decided to teach her to ski. She'd spent what was left of the morning going over her notes from her interview with Julian's Interpol contact and reviewing the documents she'd read in the Mesa Butte file. She'd promised Tom an article tomorrow by deadline, and with everything that had happened, she felt completely out of touch with the investigation.
But Gabe had made it impossible for her to concentrate just by being in the room with her. He'd taken the documents away from her, kissed her silly, then made long slow love to her, every bit as caring and tender as he'd been last night, making her climax three times with him inside her before he'd finally let himself go. And though he'd worried about hurting her again, it wasn't nearly as painful is it had been last night.
"A woman ought to be tough enough to take a little pain for the sake of her man's pleasure," she'd said, echoing his words.
"For her man's pleasure?" he'd teased, arching a brow. "Who came three times? And have you seen the scratches on my back?"
Then he'd declared it time for the two of them to get a bit of fresh air. "Leave the work for tomorrow. You deserve a damn break."
And because she really just wanted to spend time with him, she'd let him talk her out of the cabin and into a pair of boots and skis.
It was a beautiful day. The sky overhead was big and clear and blue, the sunlight striking diamonds off the snow, the air fresh as only mountain air could be. And more than once she'd caught sight of bald eagles soaring above a nearby cliff, their wings broad and dark, their heads snowy white.
If only she could stay upright on skis...
A broad grin on his face, Gabe turned sideways and sidestepped up the hill toward her, his boots creaking, his skis crunching in the snow. He reached down and helped her to stand. "Up you go. Dust yourself off."
"Every time I fall and have to get up ... I get so out of breath!"
"That's just the altitude. We're above nine thousand feet here. You'll get used to it." He brushed snow off her jeans as if she were a child. "You almost had it there. Don't let speed psyche you out. This hill isn't very steep so you can't get up that much speed anyway. And you can slow down anytime you want by turning and cutting across the fall line or going into your snow plough."
Kat looked down the tree-strewn hillside. "It looks steep to me. I'm from the Arizona desert, remember?"
"No excuses, rez girl. You can do it."
A part of her wanted to say she'd had enough and hike back up the hill to the cabin. But she refused to give up so easily. She knew how much Gabe loved the outdoors. That's one of the things that had drawn him to Jill--she'd loved outdoor sports as much as he did.
Every guy who climbs fantasizes about meeting a woman who loves the sport as much as he does. Rock climbing, alpine climbing, ice climbing, rafting, mountain biking, skiing-Jill loved it all, and she was good at it.
There was no way that Kat would ever be able to equal Jill in that respect. But she could at least learn to ski. Or at least she hoped she could.
She drew a deep breath. "When we're done with today's lesson, can you give me a demonstration? I'd like to see you ski."
His grin widened. "Okay, honey, you've got yourself a deal."
AN HOUR LATER, Kat sat outside the cabin, bundled in a blanket and dressed in a warm, dry skirt, feeling exhilarated by her success on the slope. She'd made it to the bottom of the hill three times without falling. Somewhere along the way she'd decided Gabe was right--skiing was fun. The smile he'd given her when she'd told him this had made her heart ache. It was the same bright smile he'd worn in those photos.
Now he was keeping his end of the bargain. She watched through binoculars as he trekked, skis on his shoulder, up the side of the nearest mountain in search of what he called "sick terrain." He disappeared behind a large outcropping of rock and emerged a short time later some distance above it near the timberline. How he managed to move so quickly on such steep terrain and at this altitude with the weight of the skis on his back she couldn't say. Maybe it had something to do with all that muscle.
Soon he stood at the base of the cliff where she'd seen the eagles soaring. She watched through the binoculars as he stepped into his skis, tied the snowshoes onto his backpack, and drew a pair of goggles over his eyes. With a glance in her direction and a smile on his face, he turned his skis downhill--and was off.
At first she thought he was falling, snow spraying in all directions around him, obscuring her view, moving down the steep slope like a mini-avalanche. Then he turned, and she saw that he hadn't fallen at all. He was in complete control, a man at the center of a whirling cloud of powder.
It was like watching poetry. His body seemed almost still, and yet it wasn't, his legs shifting subtly, his weight leaning slightly from side to side as he made small turns, adapting to the terrain, his poles and the top of his head the most visible parts of him. Then he reached timberline, shooting through glades of pine and bare aspen with such speed that it left her breathless.
And then Kat saw.
He must have forgotten about the rocks. He must have forgotten about the rock outcropping, because he was headed straight toward it. He didn't seem to realize it was there, didn't seem to know that if he kept skiing in that direction, he'd have a drop of at least fifty feet to the snow below.
"Gabe!" Kat ran forward, screamed to warn him, but he couldn't hear her.
He skied right over the top of the rocks--and shot into the air.
Her legs gave out, and she sank to her knees in the snow, binoculars landing in her lap. Unable to breathe, her pulse tripping, she grabbed them and watched as he landed in a spray of powder and shot down the mountainside, a wide grin on his face.
Only then did she realize he'd done that deliberately.
FEELING MORE ALIVE than he had in years, Gabe skied up to the cabin and knew he was in deep shit the moment he saw Kat's face. She glared at him, a wool blanket wrapped around her shoulders, binoculars dangling from one hand.
"You should have warned me about those rocks." She didn't yell, but her voice shook with anger, her accent stronger than usual. "What would have happened if you'd broken your leg or died? How could I have helped you out here?"
"You were afraid for me?" He jammed his poles into the snow and stepped out of his skis, setting them upright against the cabin wall.
"Yaadila!" She muttered something beneath her breath, glowering at him, and he wondered if he'd just heard her swear for the first time. "Of course I was afraid! I saw you heading for the rocks, and I thought you were going to break your neck!"
"Believe me, I've skied much hairier things than that." He reached for her, ducked down, and kissed her on the mouth--only to have her plant her hands in the middle of his chest and give him a shove.
Surprised, he laughed, rocking back on his heels. "Come on, Kat! I didn't mean to scare you. I know what I can handle."
She stood there glaring at him for a moment--then she jumped into his arms and kissed him hard on the mouth.
He caught her, the two of them falling backward into the snow. She didn't seem to c
So watching him ski had scared her--and turned her on.
Adrenaline from his run down the slope mixed with testosterone in his blood, the volatile combo blanking out his brain. He undid his parka, ripped his shirt out of his ski pants, and pushed his shoulder holster to the side, giving her easier access to his chest. And then his hands were beneath the blanket, lifting her skirt in fistfuls, cupping the sweet curves of her ass, slipping beneath her panties to caress her clit. She was slick, hot, ready for him.
She moaned, her thighs parting to make room for him, her hands sliding all over him. "Now!"
He drew out his cock, and, forgetting she was sore, pushed the crotch of her panties aside and thrust upward, impaling her. "Oh, gee-zus!"
She gasped, then moaned, biting her lip, her head falling back.
He grasped her hips to guide her, but she'd already begun to find a rhythm, her slick inner muscles stroking him as she rode him to within an inch of his life, the two of them coming hard and fast, his groan mingling with her cries.
THEY LAY THERE for a while, both of them regaining their breath, Gabe stroking Kat's hair, her head resting on his chest. "I'm sorry I scared you."
"I've never seen anyone do anything like that. Even if you did scare me, you're amazing, Gabe Rossiter."
He held her, waiting until his cock slid out of her on its own, the contact so precious he didn't want to end it, even if he was freezing his ass off--literally. This was the third time he'd come inside her without wearing a condom and he wasn't sure he could get used to wearing latex ever again. "Let's get indoors. The temp's dropping."
Or maybe that was just all the snow in the back of his pants. He sat up, steadied her while she got to her feet, then rose, adjusting his shoulder holster and grabbing handfuls of packed powder and slush out of his ass crack, icy chunks sliding down his legs inside his pants.
He looked up to see Kat covering her mouth with her hand, clearly on the brink of laughter. She pointed to the snowy ground.
Gabe looked down to see the vague outline of a man with a very clear imprint of an ass. He chuckled. "Well, that's one way to make a snow angel."
CHAPTER 27
KIMIMILA !
The Ma'ii called to her with Grandpa Red Crow's voice again and again, sending shivers up her spine. She walked in her moccasins to the door, opened it, and saw the coyote pacing back and forth in front of the hogaan. Bigger than any coyote she'd ever seen, it saw her, stopped pacing, then threw back its head and howled.
It was trying to warn her.
She took her pouch of corn pollen from her woolen sash belt and held it out with trembling hands, an offering. "What is it? Tell me! Please!"
Gabe appeared at her side. He pushed past her to stand between her and the coyote. Then the ground gave way from beneath him, and he fell out of sight.
Kat screamed ...
And found herself sitting up in bed in the cabin covered in cold sweat.
Then, Gabe was there, drawing her against his bare chest, holding her tight. "Shh, honey. It's okay. It's all right. It can't hurt you."
And then she heard the howl.
Caught between sleep and wakefulness, it took her a moment to realize that it wasn't a dream. The coyote was there. Outside the cabin door.
"Nidaaga!" No! Feeling almost sick, she stared at the door, part of her wanting to close her eyes and go back to believing it was a nightmare. But it was real, and she couldn't hide beneath the covers. She knew what she needed to do.
She drew away from Gabe, pushed aside the covers, and walked to the cupboard where she'd placed her pouch of corn pollen. Then she walked to the door, her pulse thrumming in her ears.
"What are you doing?" Gabe got out of bed, reached for his handgun. "You're not thinking of opening the door are you?"
The coyote howled again.
"Wh-when the Ma'ii comes to your home and calls to you, it's a warning from the spirits. I-I must--"
"Whatever you have to do, can you at least put something on? It's four degrees out there." He tossed her a blanket, and only then did she realize she was naked.
She wrapped herself in the blanket, unlocked the door, and slowly opened it.
The coyote sat not ten feet from the doorway, its thick coat covered with snow, its breath a light mist on the cold night air. The moon gleamed in its dark eyes like starlight on black ice. When it saw her, it tipped back its head and howled again, the sound sending shivers down her spine.
Just like her dream.
Praying in Dine, she stepped outside, snow beneath her bare feet, a bit of corn pollen between her fingers.
"Kat ... It's a wild animal. Don't get too close." Gabe came to stand beside her, rifle still in his hands.
But Kat barely heard him, the words of her prayer helping to calm her as she moved closer, thanking Brother Coyote for being a messenger tonight.
The coyote shifted its front paws, stood, howled once more, then trotted away.
She watched until it disappeared down the hillside, then hurried forward and sprinkled corn pollen in its footprints, moving clockwise. Next, she put a pinch of corn pollen on her tongue and on her head, speaking the sacred words. Then, she turned to Gabe, who had followed her out of the cabin, and held a pinch of corn pollen to his lips. Though he clearly had no idea what she was doing, he opened his mouth and accepted it, bowing his head so she could sprinkle some on his head, as well.
Then the tension drained from her body all at once, leaving her weak and shaking.
"Let's get you back inside. You're freezing." He wrapped his arm around her shoulder and guided her back inside. "Get back in bed."
Shivering, she did as he asked, watching as he lit one of the lamps, then filled the coffeepot with cold water and set it on the woodstove to boil.
"I wish I could do something so you wouldn't feel afraid," he said at last. "You've been dreaming about coyotes almost every night, did you know that?"
She shook her head. "I'm sorry if I woke you."
"I don't give a damn about that. What does the coyote mean to you? You said something about not crossing its path when we saw that one at Mesa Butte. Does crossing its path bring bad luck?"
"Not exactly. When a coyote crosses your path, you have to show respect. If you don't, your life can be thrown out of balance, and that can bring bad things. But sometimes a coyote can be sent by the spirits to warn you." She shivered, the plaintive howl echoing in her mind.
Gabe slid in bed beside her, drew the covers closer around her, kissed her hair.
She wanted to explain, to make him understand. "I crossed a coyote's path the day I fell. I wasn't able to stop and make an offering. And then the day we found Grandpa Red Crow, just as I was leaving home to meet you, I saw a coyote was standing at the end of my driveway, watching me. I made an offering, said the sacred words but ... Then at the butte, we both crossed the coyote's path. I didn't have my corn pollen, and we were almost shot. I know it probably sounds silly and superstitious to you, but I can't get past the feeling that something terrible is going to happen."
He stroked her hair. "It doesn't sound silly and superstitious. It sounds like post-traumatic stress. You've been through hell. But just in case, the door is bolted, and I've got a loaded rifle and a forty-five semiauto right here where I can grab them on a moment's notice. Anyone who tries to hurt you is going to have to get through me first."
But that might have been what terrified Kat the most.
WHILE GABE CHOPPED wood outside, Kat peeled and sliced potatoes to add to the beef stew she had bubbling on the stove. She was used to making mutton stew, so she wasn't sure about the flavoring. She needed to make dough for frybread, too, because no one ate stew without frybread. But dough could wait a little while.
She sat down at the table and opened the Mesa Butte file, feeling a sense of urgency that wouldn't le
She'd already met today's news deadline and was hoping to get a jump on tomorrow's article. The story she'd turned in today had been more a feature story than hard news, offering the reader an overview of how the international black market for American Indian artifacts worked and attempting to explain how looting hurt the Native community. She'd made the most of her interview with the Interpol agent and had taken time to interview several Indian leaders, including Uncle Allen.
It had given her an excuse to check in and hear how everyone was doing--Uncle Allen with his new responsibilities as leader of their tiyospaye, or spiritual family, Glenna with her chemotherapy, Pauline with studying for her GED. They were all very worried about her, of course. Uncle Allen had asked if he could come see her. When she'd told him that she was in protective custody and couldn't even tell him where she was, much less welcome him for a visit, he'd seemed to understand.
"We've been holding sweats up in Conifer every weekend, and we've been praying for you and your ranger, Kimimila. I hope he's keeping you safe and happy."
"He is, Uncle Allen. He is."
And he was. If it hadn't been for the sense of foreboding she couldn't seem to shake and the circumstances that had brought them here, these past three days would have been the happiest of her life.
Oh, how she loved Gabe! She loved that he was at home in the wild, that he knew how to survive and thrive. She loved that he was strong and courageous, every inch the warrior. She loved that he was passionate in bed and that he brought out the passionate side of her. Now that she knew what she'd been missing where sex was concerned, it was hard to imagine living without it. But it wasn't just sex--it was sex with Gabe.