by Karen Kay
“Would you have me get down on my knees and plead with you to return?”
“I—”
“You seek to know about me, about my feelings for you. I have not kept these from you. Tell me, Waste Ho…” he scrutinized her, “…did you ever think of me in these intervening years? Did you ever intend to keep your vow to me?”
“I…”
She hesitated, all her courage deserting her in an instant. Tell him, she demanded of herself. He deserves to know the truth. He is asking for the truth. “I… You should not have come here.”
He didn’t say a word. And his gaze turned from mere survey of her to sulking scowl.
“I…I can’t,” she said. “I… The Earl… The ship… I…” I am married to another, she finished silently, knowing that she would not say it aloud. She couldn’t. If she told him, he would leave. And more than anything, she wanted him to stay, needed him to stay. It was wrong, so very wrong of her to keep him here, but despite her good intentions; she couldn’t help it. “I have remembered our vow, Black Bear. I have thought of you. How could I ever forget my…?” love for you, she admitted to herself. She cleared her throat, saying, “I remember all that was between us, yet it changes nothing,” she said, gazing downward. “I cannot leave this place now. I have responsibilities and a family to find. Black Bear…” she glanced up shyly, “…how did you ever arrange to arrive here in England?”
He shrugged and she held her breath. Would he allow her to change the subject?
She saw the look in his eyes, saw that he understood what she did, observed his frustration. Still, at length, all he said was, “It was not so difficult as it would appear to come here. If the gold bars and powders of the white man are offered to him, and if an Indian has friends, it is easily accomplished.”
She nodded. “I see,” she said. “Then someone helped you to come here?”
“Yes.” He smiled, then voiced, so very gently, “But we leave the subject. Can you tell me, Waste Ho, do you intend to keep your promise to me?”
“I gave the Earl my word that I… Black Bear, did you undress me?”
Anyone else might have snapped at her, at her so obvious evasion of the question. And if Black Bear felt that urge, he certainly suppressed it. For he merely grinned at her. “Yes, I did undress you,” he said. “There was no one else to do it last night.” Then tenderly, he asked, “Did you ever yearn for me these past years?”
“I…yes, maybe, I mean… Black Bear! All of my clothes?”
He nodded, sending her a lopsided grin before asking, “What did you promise the Earl?”
She glanced down. “’Twas between us. The nightgown, too?”
“I had to dress you in something,” he responded. He let his gaze settle in upon her before he finished, “Or risk lying with you—and more.” Again he treated her to a heart-stopping grin, then said, “Tell me, Waste Ho Win, did your heart ever beat faster when your memory brought me to you?”
Estrela shut her eyes; she inhaled sharply. “Black Bear, I…we should not be speaking this way.”
He said nothing in response. Several moments passed before he at last spoke. “This you have said to me many times now. I do not understand it. I have come for you. How else am I to speak to you?” he asked at length, his voice low, revealing none of the tension that she could feel was beginning to enshroud him. “I have come to bring you home. Was I wrong to do this?”
“No. But my life is here now, Black Bear.”
He stared at her, the soft silence of morning at odds with the friction between them. And Black Bear, not one to evade an issue said, “Like the clever coyote, Waste Ho Win has learned in the years separating us to elude the question as the coyote eludes the incautious hunter. And were I not skilled in the hunting and catching of something as tricky as the wily coyote, I might have long since lost all sense of what I ask you. But I learned long ago, Waste Ho, that only the patient hunter will at last catch the animal he stalks. He must, however, wait. And I…” his gaze peered into hers, “…have an abundance of patience.”
Estrela watched Black Bear as he spoke, and as his glance pierced into hers, she closed her eyes, her only means of defense. It didn’t help. She was more than aware of him; she was reacting to him, to the warm caress of his voice, to the logic of his mind, the aesthetics of his language, even to his choice of words. And though her mind, her innate sense of ethics cried out that she must turn him away, her body, as though in protest, begged for his touch. And Estrela grimaced as she felt her nipples harden, the soft peaks standing erect beneath her gown. There was more, too, more that she hoped he could not sense, for that place between her legs most secret, most feminine, felt moist and—
“Waste Ho…”
She gulped. She shouldn’t say anything—nothing at all. She knew it; knew she shouldn’t, and yet, “When my nightgown was off,” she whispered, “and I lay beneath you, did you—?”
He stared at her.
“I…” She stopped. She had to gain control over herself, over her body. She mustn’t do this. She had no right; no right to flirt, no right to—“Touch me again, Black Bear,” she pleaded. “Please.”
It was all the prompting he needed.
He sat forward on his knees, he enfolded her into his arms and as his head drew closer and closer to her own, Estrela felt the air between them spark as though set with lightning until at last his lips touched hers.
Ah, the sensation, the power of the feeling that ran between them. It was right. It had to be right. Nothing this beautiful could be wrong. And as her pulse raced and her head spun, she knew she would do most anything, anything at all if he would only touch her like this forever.
“Waste Ho, do you feel it too?”
“I… Black Bear, I…”
He didn’t wait to hear what she said. He didn’t wait for anything. He swept his tongue inside her mouth, and if Estrela had been awash with feeling before, she was more than swamped with it now. She was alive, alive with the taste of him, the scent of him, the feel of him, and she thought to protest not in the least when he raised her arms one by one, discarding the gown she wore. And as she sat before him, naked, she knew that despite what the world around her might say, what was between them was right—was good. She couldn’t have stopped it if she’d tried.
He felt her everywhere. Her breasts, her flat stomach, his fingers trailing over her moist flesh, dipping lower still.
He set his mouth more fully over hers and pushed her backward on the bed.
She parted her legs for him as naturally as if they’d been married for years.
He moaned and Estrela was uncertain that he even knew it.
“Waste Ho, I want you.”
“I know,” she said. “And I—”
“Shh—” He rose slightly away from her. “Do not say it. For if you do, I will never leave you. And you know that I must. At least, for now.”
It took her awhile to realize that he had pulled himself away, that he stood by the bed and that he stared down at her.
She gazed back at him, unaware that passion still lit her eyes and that her lips, swollen, bore the silent testimony of her sweet surrender. He smiled.
She started to cover herself, but he quickly reached down to still her hands. “No,” he said. “Do not cover yourself. Let me gaze upon you, upon your beauty. For you have made me very happy. Your actions here speak for you when I do not hear the words from you that I wish to hear. By your actions, my dear one, I know your heart. And I am happy to know it. For I have learned something very precious to me.” He reached over to caress the hard nub of one ripened breast. “Your body, Waste Ho, still remembers me, still yearns for me.”
Estrela blushed, yet she couldn’t help her reactions to him. More than anything she wanted him to do more and she marveled at his control. She arched her back, inviting him with the unspoken lure of her response.
But Black Bear was not to be coerced. He straightened away. She looked up into his gaze, seeing the tig
ht control he exhibited there, as he said to her, “Though I am happy with your response, you distract me from my purpose and I am afraid I must bring to an end the passion that has taken me so long to spark to life. For Waste Ho, I must speak to you.”
She didn’t know how to respond. Laid out naked before him, with his glance caressing her every curve, Estrela was beyond speech. And so she did the only thing natural to her. She brought her legs together.
“Hiya. No. Do not move.”
“But I—”
“Do not hide your beauty from me,” he said, kneeling at her bedside. “I have dreamed of this moment for so many years, do not take it from me yet.”
She shut her eyes, but she allowed him to touch her, to mold her body as he wished.
“So beautiful.”
“Black Bear…”
“I have decided to stay here.”
A simple groan as he touched her was her only response.
“I will stay at least a moon, maybe two,” he said. “I have discovered that you need protection.” He raised a corner of his mouth, grinning at her. “I have examined what is occurring in this place called England, and I am not pleased with what I find. You are vulnerable and I cannot find the cause. But this I know. I will find the source of danger to you. I can only hope that I can also discover why you do not intend to keep your vow to me.” He held her hands back when she would have shielded her body from him. “When you are like this, I know that you want me. What I fail to understand is why you do not become my bride.”
She lay absolutely still. What had she done? What was she doing?
Estrela felt truly shamed. She shouldn’t have let him touch her, she shouldn’t have encouraged him, she shouldn’t have…
“What is it, Waste Ho?”
“I’m sorry, Black Bear,” she said, ignoring his hands and pulling the covers over her. “I have let you touch me when I shouldn’t. I have flirted with you when I have no right. I have…”
He held up a hand. “Why do you say this?”
She drew away from him. “There is no reason,” she said, “except that I cannot return to the Americas with you. I must stay here. I have a family to find. I have no future with you—with our—romance. You must return to your home. I must stay here. We cannot—”
“Enough!” He reached for her, drawing the covers away from her. He smiled. “Waste Ho is as prickly as the wild rose. And I wonder why.” And though he smiled at her, his gaze searched over her features.
“Why can’t you realize that I need to find my parents? I—”
He laughed. “Ah, Waste Ho has found her spiteful tongue.” He shook his head. “I will speak of this no more this morning.”
“And if I wish to talk more about it?”
He merely smiled at her before saying, “I am concerned for your safety. I questioned others about you last night. I have spoken to the Duke of Colchester. I am unhappy with what I find. Most here believe you were not shot at yesterday. Most contend that the shots were for someone else.” He shook his head. “It would appear that only I was there to dodge their marksmanship. Only I was there to feel their danger. Only I seem to know that those shots were meant for you, Waste Ho Win. And I discovered, even before I came to your room this night, that no matter what is between us, I cannot let you go unprotected. This house should give more protection than a tepee, yet I find it is of easy access to anyone. I arrived here by your balcony. And so could someone else.”
She didn’t say anything. In truth, his closeness to her kept her silent, making her feel forbidden desires. And so she merely stared up at him.
He smiled. “Perhaps it is because this house is so solidly built that no one feels a sentry must be posted. Or perhaps all others in this household are blind to your danger. I tried to point out that someone tried to kill you. That the same person may seek to do it again. I have tried to communicate this. But no one will listen to my counsel. I am told by your sponsor, the Duke of Colchester, that it was a stray bullet, but he who tells me this forgets there were many bullets fired and that I had to dodge them. I am told that the matter is under investigation by English authorities. I do not know what this investigation is, but I do not like it. It leaves you unprotected when you need it most. And so, Estrela, Waste Ho Win, until I know where the danger lies, until I am assured that you are safe, I cannot stay away. I will have to assure your safety. I will have to sleep here every night—”
“Sleep here?” She sat forward, holding the covers up to her neck. “With me?”
“No, Waste Ho, you misunderstand.” He leered at her. “I have made plans to protect you, not to make love to you. Although after this morning, I may revise my decision.”
“Oh.” It was all she could think to say.
He smiled, a self-conscious gesture that reminded her of the boy she had fallen in love with all those years ago. “Perhaps,” he said, “Waste Ho wishes me to do more than guard her?” He flashed her his lopsided grin. “Perhaps Waste Ho is disappointed I plan to do no more than protect her?”
“I—”
“Do not worry,” he said as he fingered the silken sheet Estrela held to her chin. “You will be safe with me. I only tease. I am not such a young man anymore, inexperienced in the ways of love that I cannot resist your allure. I will have to exert more control. Do not worry. You will be safe with me…until our marriage…”
“Until our…?” Estrela closed her mouth.
She should have corrected him. Truly, she should have. But she couldn’t, not when other things ran through her mind; like how Black Bear gained the sexual experience that he boasted of…and with whom?
She felt his touch upon her through the silken sheet and Estrela thought she had never felt more vulnerable.
“Black Bear.” She looked up at him to find him watching her. She swallowed. “Black Bear, I…am not sure this is the best thing to do.”
“Ho. Yes,” he said, tugging at the sheet, pulling it away from her as her full breasts spilled out into his hands. It was a sensuous thing to do and Estrela arched her back, allowing him the freedom she knew she should deny him. He held each of her breasts before saying, “You are correct to doubt me. There is danger for you with me. The passion between us has never diminished. And I cannot assure you that I will not try to seduce you.” He trailed his fingers over her stomach, lower still. “Ah, so beautiful.”
“Black Bear,” she said, her voice no more than a whisper. “Please.”
He drew a deep breath. “Please, what?”
She didn’t answer and Black Bear, watching her, withdrew his hand.
Estrela immediately felt bereft and experienced an odd disappointment, the feeling of something important remaining unfinished.
“I must go,” Black Bear was saying. “Already the sun is rising and someone will be here soon to awaken you. I will not damage your reputation by being found here with you.”
“No,” she said without thinking. “Don’t go.”
He paused. He smiled down at her. “Come home with me.”
“Black Bear, I can’t.”
“Why?”
“I must find my family.”
He frowned. “I would caution you, Waste Ho. Do not forget what the elders have taught us,” he said. “I think that you believe finding your family will show you who you are. But you may forget that a man is not his name. He is not even his family. These things are as birds are to a tree. The tree can shelter the bird, protect it, but the bird would never mistake itself for the tree. You are not a family—not even a name. You merely have these things. That is all.”
Estrela gazed at Black Bear in the pale glow of dawn, his high cheekbones illuminated in the soft warmth of pinkish light, and she thought she had never seen anyone more handsome, had never known anyone so honest, so understanding or so brave.
And she wished she didn’t have to do what she must. She pulled the covers up to her chin.
“Black Bear,” she said, unable to look at him directly. “I mus
t tell you something you do not wish to hear. I have tried to make excuses, I have tried to tell you in ways that you will understand, and still I fail. Hear me now.” She refused to look at him, didn’t see him frown at her. “I can never return to America. I can never return to the Indian camp.” She drew a steadying breath before saying simply, “Black Bear…I am married.”
Chapter Five
It was several moments before Black Bear regained movement again. And even then he merely shifted his weight from one foot to another.
He stared at the woman he loved, the woman for whom he had risked so much.
The woman he’d been so sure loved him.
“I can explain,” she was saying, but he didn’t even hear, couldn’t hear. Shock kept him still, but anger made him deaf, even to the turmoil of his own thoughts.
“You let me make love to you when you are married?” he asked at last.
“Yes, but I—”
“Where is your husband that he leaves you here unprotected?”
“Black Bear, it’s not what it seems. The Earl on the return voyage—”
“You married the Earl?”
Estrela sighed. “No. I’m trying to tell you that the Earl forced me to—”
“Forced you as I did? Which is not at all? You gave the Earl your favors without marriage? How many others have you treated in such a way?”
She shook her head before replying, “Black Bear, you are making this worse than it is.” She pulled the sheet more closely around her and Black Bear saw that she searched under it for more covering.
It shouldn’t have created such an effect on him. It shouldn’t have. But her movements suddenly infuriated him and Black Bear felt himself shaking under the force of uncontrollable emotion.
He jerked himself away from her and paced to the window, peering outside at the reddish glow of morning, at the sun peaking up through the clouds, at its deceptive beauty. He breathed deeply, cautioning himself to stop and to think.
He felt like thrashing her and he had to hold himself in check long enough to argue the foolishness of such an action if only within his own mind.
