He shook his head. “That is obvious.” He ducked as I playfully tossed my hat at him. “ Yalta wants you to stop messing around with Veronica.”

He had my attention now. “What?”

A wide grin spread across his face. “It will sap your strength.” He punctuated his less-than-great news with a shrug.

“Oh. I see.” And I did. It was a typical requirement made of fighters in all types of disciplines, from boxing to martial arts. The idea was that sex before a fight took away your aggression, making you weak.

“No problem,” I said, rising to my feet. “Tell my zazul not to worry.”

Chudruk laughed as he walked away. He laughed even harder as he passed a very red-faced Ronnie as she came toward me.

“You’ll never guess what Odgerel just told me!”

“That we had to cool it on the sex until after the naadam?” I answered casually, as if I was asking for the time.

You know, I didn’t think it was possible for a person to turn purple with embarrassment. Huh. I guess you really do learn something new every day.

“How…how…” the poor thing attempted.

“Because I just had the same conversation with Chudruk.”

Veronica turned to look at the retreating man. “So that’s why he laughed.” She turned back to me. “Cy, this is humiliating! You mean to tell me they all know?”

Now it was my turn to laugh. “Really, Ronnie. We’re not in high school. This is hardly scandalous information here.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means we are adults. And in most cultures around the world, sex is a natural and casual thing.” I felt a spike of pain in my shoulder and started to rub it.

Veronica walked around me and rubbed my shoulder for me. “Are you saying I’m a prude?”

“Yes.” Uh-oh. The massage stopped. “And no.” It started up again. “You certainly have no problem getting in the mood. But I think your experience with the way other cultures see sex is somewhat limited.”

She said nothing, so I continued. “Remember your reaction to hearing about my sexual past?”

“Yes. I was shocked by the fact that you were some sort of gigolo.”

That made me laugh. “A gigolo? I never accepted money. I think of it more as a rock star with groupies.”

I couldn’t see her, but I knew she was rolling her eyes behind me.

“Oh, yeah. A carney is just the same thing as a rock star.” Was it possible to actually see sarcasm as it floated past you in the air?

“Well, something like that. Anyway, you just have to get past those Midwestern morals and loosen up.”

She slapped me on the shoulder. It took everything I had not to wince. “I admit I’m a bit conservative about sex. And I admit that the romance of this place had its way with my mind…and body.” She walked around to face me. “But I will certainly have no problem with celibacy over the next few days.” Ronnie stuck her tongue out at me and walked away, swaying her hips as she went.

Somehow, I had the feeling that the gauntlet had been thrown. And I was going to lose.

Chapter Sixteen

Zolbin, Zerleg and I wrestled the rest of the afternoon. My shoulder burned with pain, but I blocked it out mentally. After a few hours I was favoring my good shoulder, and the boys were exploiting my injury to their advantage. Not that I could blame them. As Yalta had explained, any opponent would do the same thing.

After soaking in the ice-cold stream for a while, I wet a T-shirt and wrapped it around my joint. All the way back to my ger, I thought of nothing but the extra-strength aspirin I had smuggled in for something just like this. In combination with some hot tea and rest, I should be better in the morning.

I stepped into my tent and shut the door. Ronnie was playing with Sartre on a blanket on the floor. My mind was absorbed with finding the painkillers, and once I swallowed them, I sank down on my cot and unwrapped the rag from my shoulder. It was swollen and sore. But the meds would take care of that. I turned my attention to my tentmate and stopped cold.

Ronnie smiled seductively. How I’d failed to notice she was naked was beyond comprehension. The woman was actually nude on a blanket in front of me. I started toward her.

She held up her hand to stop me. “No sex, remember?”

I started to peel off my shorts. “Oh, I’m not worried about that superstition.”

“But I am. And no means no.”

“Then why are you laid out like a flesh buffet?” I loosened the stays on the shuudag.

“Me?” Her eyes grew wide in feigned innocence. “I was just overly warm.” Her hardened nipples and goose bumps said otherwise. I sat down on the floor next to her.

“Now who is thinking like a puritan? Nudity is not as important in other cultures, Cy.”

I was one breath away from her. The scent from her skin made not touching her unbearable. I pulled her onto my lap, her breasts pressing against my chest. If she was still serious about celibacy after feeling my cock against her, then I would-

“No.” Veronica pushed off me and giggled as she scooped up Sartre and moved to her cot.

I sat there in complete confusion, not to mention sexual frustration. Was she for real? Apparently, the game was afoot. Ronnie was taking her vow of celibacy until the match was over to new heights by throwing in torture…just for fun.

You know those commercials for erectile dysfunction where they warn you about calling a doctor immediately if you have an erection that lasts more than four hours? Well, mine lasted for a lot longer than that. And the nearest doctor was too far away to visit. I was beginning to wonder if Ronnie had switched my aspirin with Viagra. At one point that night I was pretty sure I was hallucinating. Either that or there really was a telephone pole attached to my groin with seven bluebirds and a turkey buzzard sitting on it.

I would like to say that I could have justified her playful behavior. But every time I saw that sweet little ass or her bare shoulders (hell, even a naked elbow was driving me mad), I began to think I knew absolutely nothing about women.

In addition to my constant state of arousal, almost the entire camp was readying for the move to the outskirts of Ulaanbaatar for the national naadam. From rounding up the animals to taking down the gers, everything was a flurry of activity. Even Veronica was too busy helping Odgerel to spend much time naked in our ger-a fact that made me eternally grateful. Yalta had stopped training to allow us to help.

Ronnie and I were to take down our own ger. And to my surprise, she was very excited about it. The hardest part for us was removing the felt cover. But once we had it off, collapsing the lattice frame and packing everything was fairly easy. We worked very well together. And that surprised me too.

Most of the women who’d wandered through my life over the past decade were mere sexual nomads at best. They joined me in my bed, then left. I was used to that. But none of them ever hung out with me, did chores with me, or even engaged in everyday conversations with me. Sure, there were one or two women on the carney circuit. But I never really worked with them directly, nor did I get involved with them physically. I wondered why that was now, but I never did at the time.

There was something so simple, yet amazing about spending time this way with Veronica Gale. On this trip, we could be working on chores side by side one moment, then committing all sorts of carnal delights in bed the next. And we were together all the time. There was nowhere to go on a proper date. No movie theaters, no fine dining, no computers, television or radio even. Just two people in the wilderness.