Twilight Crossing. Susan Krinard

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      But then there was Cahill.

      Timon looked forward to where the Senator was riding near the head of the column as if he himself were leading it. He hadn’t quite figured out the Senator’s relationship with Jamie. Most of the time Cahill left her alone, but every so often he would ride back and lecture her as if she was obligated to listen to and obey every word he spoke. Cahill told her, wrongly, that she held the reins incorrectly; he chastised her for falling behind when she dropped back to the middle of the column. And there was an air of possessiveness about him that had aroused Timon’s immediate dislike, though he shouldn’t care one way or another what the humans did among themselves as long as it didn’t endanger the party.

      Realizing that he’d been glaring at Cahill’s erect back, he looked toward Jamie again. The horse was still there, walking placidly beside the wagon, but the rider had vanished.

      Timon reined Lazarus behind the wagon and rode around it, coming up beside Jamie’s mount. She wasn’t with the animal. He continued toward the rear of the column and Ajax, the Brother riding drag, searching for Jamie with a vague sense of alarm.

      He found her crouched at the side of the track, her fingers picking through the green spring grass. She plucked a golden poppy and examined it with great concentration, then set it aside and made a quick sketch of it in her notebook.

      With a whispered command to his horse, Timon slid out of the saddle. Jamie looked up as his shadow fell over her, scrambled backward and landed squarely on her rump. A deep red flush tinted her creamy skin.

      “What is it?” she asked. “What’s wrong?”

      It took a moment for Timon to realize that he had been frowning. “It isn’t wise for you to fall behind the column,” he said, offering his hand.

      She stared at it as if it were a striking rattlesnake. “I haven’t fallen behind,” she said. “I was only—” Her bright gaze flashed toward the last wagon, pulling away at a steady pace. “Oh.”

      He relaxed. “Being absentminded is an indulgence you can’t afford,” he said. “No matter how fascinating you find the local flora.”

      Ignoring his offer of help, she jumped to her feet. “I didn’t intend to be so long.”

      “Are you always so caught up in your work?”

      “I’m not really a botanist,” she said, her voice rising with enthusiasm, “but there are only two in the entire Enclave, and they’ll want to know—” She bit her lip and scooped up her notebook. “I won’t let it happen again.”

      He wanted to laugh at her grave pronouncement, but he knew it would sound too much like mockery. “The only way we can protect you is if you stay together,” he said.

      “I understand.” She brushed off her pants. “I tied my horse to the wagon. It won’t take me long to catch up.”

      “Let’s walk,” Timon said. He gave a short whistle through his teeth, and Lazarus stepped up to thrust his head between Timon and Jamie. He nibbled on Jamie’s hair, and she made a little sound of surprise.

      “Lazarus likes you,” Timon said. “That’s quite a compliment.”

      “Oh?” she asked with a smile that caught him utterly off guard. “Is he so fearsome, then?”

      “Only to enemies.”

      She cupped her hand over the horse’s nose. “He’s a very fine horse.”

      “Is that your vast experience talking?”

      Her smile faded. “Are you teasing me again?”

      “I know that you’ve spent your entire life in the Enclave, curing human diseases.”

      “Looking for cures, yes.” She began to walk after the last wagon. “It’s a very slow process.”

      “And you’ve been happy inside your laboratory?” Timon asked, falling in behind her with Lazarus in tow.

      She stopped abruptly and met his gaze. “We don’t know each other very well, Mr. Timon, but I don’t imagine that my happiness can be of much concern to you.”

      “You value learning for its own sake.”

      She pushed her hair away from her face, leaving a smudge of dirt across her temple. It only enhanced her beauty. “You speak as if the desire to learn is a freakish aberration,” she said.

      He raised his hands in a gesture of surrender. “Easy,” he said. “I didn’t mean to offend you.”

      “You didn’t,” she said in an offhand manner that was far from convincing.

      He brought Lazarus to stand beside her. “We’re falling farther behind.” He stretched out his hand. “Ride with me.”

      High color flooded her cheeks again, but when he looked into her eyes, he knew it wasn’t from fear. He felt a jolt of awareness spark between them.

      The feeling passed in an instant, but Timon knew in that instant everything had changed. Now he could hear the rapid beat of her heart, sense the blood pumping through veins and arteries; he felt drawn to her in a way he never had before, not even when he’d first met her. And she stared at him as if she had never seen his face, her tongue darting out to wet her lips, her eyes wide with sudden realization.

      He was certain Jamie had never been with any man. But she was overwhelmed by feelings her rational mind clearly didn’t comprehend. Yet her body knew the truth, on a very primal level that had nothing to do with logic. She was just beginning to grasp what it told her.

      And she was fighting that knowledge with every scrap of determination she possessed.

      Perhaps that was why she took his hand, let him pull her up behind him into the saddle and put her arms around his waist as he urged Lazarus into a gentle canter. She had something to prove to herself.

      Timon could guess what it was. She had set herself the task of observing, of remaining objective. Any strong emotion—fear, anger, desire most of all—interfered with that task.

      As they rode, Timon felt her breath on the nape of his neck, the press of her breasts against his back, the roundness of her thighs rocking behind his. He could smell her hair and her skin and her clothing, a rich mélange of intoxicating scents it was impossible to ignore.

      He slowed Lazarus as they caught up to Jamie’s mount, who nickered and tossed his head in greeting. Timon helped Jamie dismount and watched her climb into the saddle.

      “You do that very well,” he said.

      “Thank you,” she said, her voice perfectly steady. “The technique isn’t so difficult to learn, once you understand it.”

      “And what do you do when you can’t understand something?”

      “I keep working until I do.”

      Timon wondered if she’d put so much effort into learning the joys of lovemaking. It would be another new world for her to explore, and the man who guided СКАЧАТЬ