Chapter 21 #2
Her hair was as soft as silk against his chest as she nodded.
She wasn’t all right. She was as strong as steel. She would defend herself to the death, he knew, but even steel could be bent.
“Thank God!” he murmured, urging Tor in a steady walk along the trail. He drew the backs of his fingers over her cheeks. “You’ve got to be all right tonight. I don’t want you to miss the sight of me on my knees when I know you’ll enjoy it so much.”
She jerked slightly away from him and turned around to look at him. Her face was smudged. The beautiful doeskin dress was a mess. She had put up quite a fight. He drew a line over one of the smudges on her face, smiling.
“Earth Woman admitted to the pepper.”
Her eyes widened. “Why, that—bitch!” she exclaimed.
He smiled. “I’m sorry.”
“Not good enough.”
“Really sorry.”
“Still not good enough.”
“Then you’ll just have to wait a bit,” he said gruffly. “But then, you owe me an apology as well.”
“I owe you—”
“For this morning. I was never with Earth Woman.” When she said nothing, he prompted, “Well?”
“I’m sorry, too.”
“You didn’t believe in me.”
“You certainly didn’t believe in me regarding the pepper!”
“I already promised you a better apology, but I think life will go a little bit more smoothly if we both start believing in each other. What do you say?”
She nodded.
He nudged Tor to a quicker gait. The others rode behind them now. When they returned to the camp by the river, though the hour was late, other warriors, old men, young men, women, and children rushed out to greet them. Squaws took the scalps.
The camp came alive with activity.
But Hawk evaded it, leaving Sloan to make any apologies for him. He carried his wife into their tipi and set her down, studying her from head to toe for injury as he had done once before.
“I’m all right,” she insisted. “Well, my ankle is a bit sore because I tripped and bit my lip when that Crow warrior clamped his hand down on my mouth, but—”
“No one hurt you.”
She frowned suddenly. “Hawk, one man spoke English.”
“Sloan said he was a mixed blood he’d seen around one of the army forts,” Hawk said.
“He said he’d just as soon kill me sooner than later if I didn’t shut up, but one of the others shouted at him, and he shut up. Are such attacks common?”
“Yes and no. The Crow and the Sioux have been enemies forever. We have fought forever, we take coup upon one another, steal horses…but this…this is the strangest damned thing I’ve ever seen, even if you do have spectacular hair.”
“Do I?” she inquired, almost smiling. Hawk breathed a sigh of relief. She was going to be all right.
“I’m waiting to see you on your knees,” she told him.
She was definitely going to be all right, he thought as he went down upon a knee. “I’m sorry. I am really, truly, honestly sorry. I kneel humbly before you in apology. Will that suffice?”
“With a little more pure humility in your voice it won’t be half bad.”
“I’m humble.”
“The hell you are.”
“But I really am sorry. You did work hard all day, and you did intend to appear to be a perfect Sioux wife.”
“I always pay my debts.”
“Your debts? Ah. Your sister, right?”
“Yes.”
“Well, it seems you’ve found monsters here, but apparently, you’ve known a few monsters in the past. I wouldn’t want her under attack by any monsters either. But then, perhaps you’d like to tell me a little bit more about the monsters in your past?”
Skylar shook her head. “Not tonight, please. The past, please God, is behind me,” she said softly. She wasn’t about to give him anything more. And tonight it didn’t matter. Nothing else mattered. Right now, it was too good just to hold her.
“Am I forgiven?” he asked her.
She nodded, then shivered fiercely. “I have to forgive you. You came for me again. You were alive. You saved my life.”
“They wouldn’t have killed you.”
“I think that they did mean to kill me. Eventually.”
Hawk stood, shaking his head. “You’re safe,” he said huskily. “And very beautiful. Maybe you’re not so safe. I’m shaking, needing to hold you again.”
“I’m a mess, covered with dirt.”
“You’re very beautiful, and I can understand why any man would want to ravish you.”
“I think you’ve already done some ravishing tonight.”
“I thought you were doing the ravishing there.”
She smiled. A real smile, sweet and warm. She shrugged.
“I was so afraid that you were dead. And at the same time, I couldn’t believe that you could have possibly been killed.”
“If I’d been killed, you know, Mayfair would have been yours. And you would have been the widowed Lady Douglas.”
“I never wanted to take anything from your father—or you,” she told him. “And I—”
“What?”
She shrugged. “I don’t want to be the widowed Lady Douglas.”
He smiled, nodding his head. “Do you know what?”
“What?”
“I’m actually rather glad to have a wife.”
“Are you?”
“Very much so at times like this.”
There was a definite insinuation in his voice. “I was frightened by what happened tonight,” she reminded him, “but you were injured. Your head—”
“I had a headache, but it’s gone. Now that I have dutifully groveled, I could perhaps use a little gentle care myself.”
“Hawk, they knocked you out. You were hurt—”
“Nothing that you can’t make better.”
“But—”
“Lady Douglas!” he groaned. “Must I state it plainly? You’ll not get me on my knees again, I’m not in any pain, and I want my wife. Come here, woman,” he demanded with a wry grin.
Skylar lowered her head, a half-smile playing upon her lips. She looked up at him. “I know that we’re in Sioux country, but could you possibly come here, man? Meet me in the middle?”
He arched a brow. “Hmm. What an invitation.”
Skylar took a step forward. She reached down for the hem of the buckskin dress and drew the garment over her head, tossing it carefully aside.
She was smudged with dirt and dust, just as he was, but he just didn’t give a damn right now.
Passion simmered slowly. Provocatively. He needed to hold her now. Touch her.
Shivering just slightly, she stared at him, waiting.
“What an invitation!” he repeated in a husky whisper.
Her smile deepened. Her eyes glittered, and she cocked her head just slightly.
“Want to bet I can’t get you on your knees again?” she teased him.
But then she gasped because he had moved so quickly, sweeping her up.
Then she was on the ground, lying upon a bed of furs, his body on top of hers.
What remained of the red blaze from the cooking fire warmed them, just as the silver fire that exuded from her eyes seared into him, building new heat, slow, simmering warmth.
Everything slow, everything savored, so careful…
So tender.
She did get him on his knees again.
And magically, a night that had begun in fear and bloodshed and fury became…
Eden.