Chapter 7 #2
In due time, he continued to speak. “Perhaps, since now we may talk openly to one another, you might be of assistance to me with this problem. It is good that we may speak of it. Hear me on this. For though you are by rights my wife, and I your husband, until I complete the task set before me, I am not a free man. And perhaps I never will be a free man. Know, therefore, this: a true marriage to me…is impossible.”
She remained mute.
“Thus, so that we both continue to be honorable to each other, let us make a pact between us and pledge to each other from this day forward, no matter how our hearts might tend us, we agree we will not be swayed. To do so could distract me from what I must do. It might do so to you, also.”
Her glance was focused on the ground. “You speak as if we were of long acquaintance and in danger of losing our hearts to one another, Mr. Coyote. And yet we have barely known one another a day.”
“Hau, you speak true. I understand why you say this, and it is possible you do not share the same problem which befalls me. But when I held your hand this day…” He stopped.
Though he realized they needed to speak about and around this subject, this particular line of thought was not one he wished to pursue.
Yet she coaxed, “Yes?”
He swallowed hard. “I cannot state more.”
“Cannot?”
He shrugged, jerking his chin to the left.
“My wife, you are the first white woman I have ever seen, that I have ever known. By the very laws of nature, I should treat you with respect because you are so different from me. I should admire you, should even withhold the trusts my tongue speaks now, for I fear if we are not careful, you could divert me from the mission that rules my life. Possibly this is true for you too. And yet, even knowing this, here I am, telling you that I find you…beautiful.”
She caught her lip between delicate white teeth, and he stared intently at those lips until he realized what he was doing. Quickly, he looked away.
“Thank you,” she said. “That was kind of you to say.”
“Perhaps. But I did not mean it to be kind. I spoke of this because I believe it is true, and because I wish you to be aware of it. Together, if we agree, we can ensure we will keep each other’s honor.”
He brought his gaze back to hers, watching her as she sucked in a quivering breath, as though her emotions were involved. At the thought, his stomach twisted.
All at once she said, “If this be the case, then maybe it would be best if you simply took me straight to the village of St. Louis, rather than risk spending more time with me by going on to the trading post, and then traveling farther to St. Louis.”
“Perhaps. But know that there is another reason why I am choosing the path to the white man’s trading post.”
“And this reason is?”
“The man I seek might be there. And if he is, I must find him.”
“Oh.”
With the firelight throwing her features into shadow and light, he truly thought she was the most exquisite creature of his acquaintance.
“Come now, we have had a good talk, and since we are husband and wife, we are allowed to do this. But I think the time has come for sleep. You should go to sleep now. I have set a buffalo robe toward the back of our lodge for your bed. I will stay here at the front of our abode and keep watch.”
“Yes, yes, of course, you are right. I should sleep. It is late, after all.” She came up onto her knees.
But before she crawled to the back of their tiny hideaway, before she wrapped herself up in the warmth of the buffalo robe, she leaned over and said, “Thank you. I appreciate your consideration,” and then she placed a delicate kiss on his cheek.
All his blood seemed to dive and pool below his navel, so great was his reaction to her.
Don’t do it, he told himself. Don’t indulge. She does not understand what she does, perhaps not even its effect on a man.
But her lips were so close, her scent so intriguing, and he had only to reach out a little, turn his head just so.
No, he mustn’t do it. He mustn’t.
Yet, he wondered if he would be quite male if he did not. Slowly, he turned his head.
As his lips came in contact with hers, he thought his body might burst apart from all the energy flooding through him.
Suddenly a simple touching of lips to lips was not enough.
His hands came up to frame her face, and his mouth slanted hungrily over hers, tasting, licking, kissing, not once, not twice, but over and over again.
He felt her cheeks, then ran his fingers gently down to her neck, over her shoulders. Her skin was an added inducement, for it was as soft as a doe’s, and all at once he yearned to feel every part of her.
But it was too much for him. He felt too much, he desired too much, and the craving tore at him.
Barely able to contain this woman’s effect on him, he broke off the kiss. He knew he must put a stop to what he was doing immediately, or he would have to take back all they had thus far discussed.
Unable to set her away from him completely, he pulled her into his embrace and hugged her, much as he had been dreaming of hugging her all evening. Her head fitted perfectly into the crook of his neck, as though she were made exactly for him.
He couldn’t help but whisper in her ear, “Perhaps now is not the time to tell you that I desire you, and have done so from the moment I first saw you. It is this desire that I fight.”
“Yes,” she said as softly as he. “Perhaps now is not the time.”
He set her away from him, running his fingers over the smoothness of her cheek to her neck, on down toward her chest. “But we should not do anything further. You know this. I know this. We must not. You do agree?”
Again, she nodded. “I know. And yes, I agree. After all, our time together will be short.”
However, no sooner had the words been spoken than they rushed into one another’s arms.
All thought fled. The only consideration in Grey Coyote’s mind was how good it felt. Her arms had entwined themselves around his neck, pulling him down to her. His arms had fastened around her waist, bringing her in so close he feared she might feel the imprint of his passion.
And the sweet scent of her… His head reeled.
It felt good to hug, too good. It felt good to have her arms around him, also.
He whispered, “It is up to the man to think reasonably, to call a halt to the passion of the moment, for a woman, once pushed too far, can be convinced of most anything. Therefore, it is my responsibility to tell you we must stop.” He set her away from him, but he did not relinquish his touch of her.
His hands had dropped to her waist while his throat worked convulsively.
Again, she agreed, nodding. But her gaze was centered on the ground. When she raised her eyes to his, his heart soared, for he recognized the passion that stared back at him. He groaned.
But this was all he did, fearful that if he took any further action, or if he even said another word, he would betray all he had thus far settled. He dropped his hands.
After a moment, she said, “You are right. I should go to bed. I will do so now.” Her attempt seemed halfhearted, and when she made a move to leave, she brushed against him, her breasts rubbing across his own.
He sucked in his breath, and she looked at him. A simple action, yet potent. Their gazes clung together, as though, because they each knew this was all they could share, they would commit the act of love with a look alone.
She swallowed. He did the same. Then she said, “Good night,” touching him on the breast.
And then…rapture.
Suddenly, they were wrapped in each other’s arms, and they kissed and they kissed, in such a way that the action might allow them to crawl into each other’s skin. Neither came up for a breath. Neither had any thought of stopping the assault.
It went on and on. His hands came up to cup her face, then down, down, he felt her, down to her neck, down to her waist.
To his horror, his fingers shook. But luckily, she seemed to be unaware of it. Or perhaps if she did know, she chose to make no mention of it.
Still they kissed, their tongues mating in the time-honored dance of love.
His fingers tangled with the buttons at the back of her dress, although he was unable to undo a single one of them.
Coming up for air, he gasped, and in a last-ditch effort to control himself, said, “If you can stop me, do so, for I appear to have lost my will to do anything but make love to you.”
She made a high-pitched sound, deep in her throat, and whispered, “Mr. Coyote, I fear you cannot depend on me for this. You will have to think for us both.”
He inhaled noisily. “If it be so, then you must know I want to make love to you.”
She swallowed hard, and his heart tripped over itself. When she said “I too,” his body throbbed maddeningly, his spirits soared.
Barely daring to question his good fortune, Grey Coyote forced his stumbling fingers over those material-covered buttons at the back of her dress yet again, and he managed to undo…none of them. It took her steady hands to reach up and undo the buttons herself.
It was over in a few moments, but in that short time period, he had begun to kiss every part of her fragrant skin, there at her neck, at her throat, and he made several daring forays downward to the cloth that covered her breasts.
All the while his hands massaged the sides of her waist, up and down, over and over.
Though the dress fell to her waist, she was still almost fully clothed. Beneath her outer garment was yet another, a white dress. And beneath the white dress, another article of clothing. But her fingers were nimble, and soon it was done.
Her clothing fell forward, exposing her snow-white breasts to the air and to his hungry eyes. For a flash in time, he forgot to breathe.