by Jenna Kernan
She used his words against him, calling his bluff, challenging him to prove what he said. He could remain where he was and let her believe all she said was true or he could show her that, to him, she was the most beautiful of all women. His insides froze, cold as the sap in the cottonwoods during the Deep Snow Moon.
Lucie stood, fists bunched, jaw ridged, eyes narrowed, ready to receive anything he threw at her. The woman was magnificent. Her eyes glittered and she sneered.
“I knew it.” Lucie turned away.
Sky grasped her and spun her back to face him.
“Eagle Dancer is my friend. I can’t—”
She cut him off by wrenching free. “Don’t. Don’t you dare give me one more excuse. This is not about him or honor or duty. This is between you and me.”
“Why do you want me to kiss you?”
The hard lines around her mouth eased. He noted her labored breathing and wondered what it was she tried so hard to hold back.
“I just want the truth,” she said at last. “Either you can see past my face or you’re a liar like the rest of them.”
“A kiss will tell you all that?”
She nodded.
He should have walked away, but instead he reached forward, needing her to know what was in his heart. He clasped her neck in his hand and drew her in. He felt unworthy of someone so pure of heart and fully expected her to call a halt to this game. But her grim face made it plain she was going to follow through. Did she think he’d stop?
He wouldn’t. Not now. Not for anything in the world. She’d goaded him into this, but it was exactly where he wanted to be.
Sky gathered her in his arms, still not understanding why she would want him. He held back one moment longer, to brush his thumb over her chin. Her smile was bittersweet.
Lucie allowed him to draw her near. It was hard not to fight the possessiveness of his touch. Over the years, a few men had tried to use her. One man had enslaved her, but none had loved her. She did not expect Sky to love her, but the way he looked at her made her imagine he might be capable of making love to her. It wasn’t enough to fill a lonely life, but it would have to do.
Lucie longed for far more than a kiss—more, perhaps, than any man could give her. She wanted a man who could see the girl she was and the woman she might have become; pretty, normal, whole.
As she stared up into his eyes, she recalled that he had claimed to be the only man alive who might understand her. But understanding and acceptance were distant cousins.
Lucie’s heart pounded a painful rhythm. She could scarcely breathe past the hope welling inside her. He had caressed her chin as if there were nothing damaged about it.
She melted against him, hoping that afterward he would not mock her for her naivete. His arms were strong and his hold tender. He took slow possession of her, cradling her head and pressing her body close to his. He gave her time to draw back, but she was committed. In for a penny, in for a pound, she thought and closed her eyes.
His lips brushed hers in the merest glancing of flesh, yet the light caress sent a shiver of anticipation dancing over her skin. She rested her hands on his hips and slid them upward, until her fingers gripped the taut shoulder muscles. She used her leverage to flatten her breasts to his chest, inhaling at the sensual contact.
His mouth found hers again, only this time the pressure was firm. She opened her lips at his insistence and his tongue stroked hers. Her body seemed ablaze now, the heat melting her against him, but no matter how close she held him it was not close enough. Like Tantalus, her thirst was unquenchable, her need unrelenting.
She was grasping at him now, clawing in a vain effort to remove his clothing, to revel in the pressing of naked flesh to flesh. His shirt was still open. She reached under it now, feeling the luscious play of his muscles as they contracted beneath her questing fingers. But it was not enough. She needed more than this kiss, more, so much more.
Lucie knew what she wanted, what she would take if she could.
She released him and unfastened her blouse. Deftly she released the white shell buttons at her wrists and then the invisible closures at her throat. One by one she opened the hooks and her blouse fell from her shoulders. He stood back, releasing her with everything but his eyes. As she opened the garment, his gaze shifted to her neck and he fingered the small indentation about her collarbone, his thumb falling into the hollow at her throat. Then he pressed his lips to the cording muscle beneath her jaw and worked upward, capturing the lobe of her ear in his mouth.
This caused Lucie to release a long, tortured moan of pleasure. He did this to her. He made her whisper his name between clenched teeth. If she could just keep him kissing her neck for a moment longer, she might keep him from noticing the other tattoos that ringed her arms like some hideous bracelet of ink. She dropped the shirt, feeling exposed in a way she rarely allowed. Not even her family saw her bare arms. For her this was more private than any other part of her. She might rather walk down the thoroughfare bare-breasted, than without her shirt-sleeves. But for him she allowed it, praying she had not underestimated him. It was a simple matter to unfasten her skirt, petticoat and bloomers, allowing them to pool about her ankles.
Now only the thin white veil of cotton covered her torso. His hands were on her waist, stroking, caressing and moving steadily upward toward her aching breasts. And still he had not seen the tattoos, for his mouth remained on her neck. His teeth scored the flesh, leaving a cool trail of moisture on the hot surface of her throat.
She drew the shiny ribbon that threaded through the eyelets of her camisole, pulled loose the tiny row of buttons and released the last barrier that shielded her. She needed Sky to see her now, accept her with all her scars. If he could only do that, even for one night, she would know there was hope of finding another who could do the same. It would mean it was possible. So she gently eased back. His grip tightened, and for an instant she thought he meant to hold her captive. But his grip relaxed and he allowed her to draw back.
If he accepted her, loved her even for one night, he might unwittingly give her the proof of one night’s devotion. Lucie trembled with the possibility. She might still have a child of her own, to love and raise. Up until this moment she had been playing house, first in her parents’ home, where she pretended that her brothers and sisters were her own children. She had come to teach for the same reason, to fill this ache she could no longer ignore. And now fate had given her Sky, handsome, troubled and physically perfect. If Sky was willing to look past her imperfections, she might still have this one great joy.
She stood stiffly, waiting for him to see her as she was.
Chapter Eleven
Sky looked at her, naked, gilded by the firelight. Lucie stood before him waiting. He had only meant to kiss her, just once. He was a fool to think he could be satisfied with that. A lifetime of kisses from this woman would never be enough. She had stripped off her clothing, exposed herself to his eyes. She must know what such a sight would do to him.
But why, then, did she pull back?
His need for her pulsed in the most obvious of places. He took a step forward. She did not retreat. Instead she looked to the tattoo ringing her upper arm. He glanced at the row of even spikes bisecting her slim bicep. And then he stared at the lovely curve of her breasts. They were full and round and he knew her skin smelled so sweet. He reached for her, his fingers encircling her arms. He forced his gaze back up to her face and saw she bit her lower lip. Her expression reminded him of something, but he couldn’t place it. Not fear exactly, but neither was it desire.
He looked to her for guidance, unsure what game she thought she was playing, but knowing that he would very shortly lose his ability to think coherently. He’d never been so tempted. He prayed silently that this was not some horrible trick, a test of his honor, for he knew he would fail.
“Lucie?”
“Do you still want me?”
Did she really think it possible that after seeing the perfection of
her form, the beauty of her face, the courage of her spirit, that he wouldn’t want her? He shook his head, positive that he did not understand women.
Her breath caught and he realized by her shattered expression that he had sent her a signal of rejection. He tried not to laugh at the idiocy of this situation.
“No, Lucie, wait. Of course I want you. That’s why I couldn’t even speak to you back at the school. You take my breath away.”
She closed her eyes then and drew a deep breath, as if preparing to dive into water.
“Prove it.” She held her arms out to him.
He dragged her forward, pressing her naked torso to his bare chest. His eyes closed as well as he offered a prayer of thanks to the Great Spirit for placing Lucie on the earth. Then he nuzzled her earlobe, gradually traveling south, over the pulsing vessel at her throat to nibble along her collarbone. She sighed and made a tiny humming sound.
Sky kissed the upper curve of her bosom. Her head fell back and she pressed herself more tightly to his mouth. His hands splayed about her waist holding her captive for his sensual assault. She trembled and quivered, but he did not hesitate. His tongue flicked over her rosy nipple, sending the flesh into a hard little nub which he took in his mouth and sucked. She cried out his name at this and clung tight, forcing him still closer to the soft bud of flesh. He trailed one hand over the tempting swell of her bottom and down the satin of her thighs. When he lifted her she only fell back into his arms in complete surrender.
He carried her to the blankets, wishing he had a fine robe of rabbit skins on which to lay her. It was the only thing he could think of that was softer than her skin. He knelt beside her and looked at the bounty she offered. Her hair fanned out about her in a red storm. Her skin glowed golden in the fire. He trailed two fingers over her lips and chin, down the column of her throat, veering to sweep around the outer orb of one breast and then the other. He continued along the center of her flat stomach, wanting to place his seed within this fertile field and watch it grow. She could give him strong sons and daughters and he wanted them. He, who had resigned himself to live and die alone, had found a woman who could give him—everything, everything that was, except absolution. He clenched his jaw and buried his face in the warm satin of her hair.
Sky’s fingers delved into the tight mat of curls at the juncture of her thighs. She opened her legs, letting them fall to the blanket in an invitation.
But she did not stop there. She reached out and lay a hand on him, low at the juncture of his bare stomach and the jeans. Then her palm stroked the ridge of flesh, barely restrained by denim. She rolled to her side and released the rivet, peeling away the fabric, releasing his erection. When her fingers encircled him, he closed his eyes at the rush of pleasure. She stroked him once and then released him to strip his trousers off his hips.
Sky sat to remove his moccasins and toss aside his dungarees. Then he knelt beside her. Lucie slipped one foot behind his legs and pulled. He allowed himself to fall forward, catching his weight on his outstretched arms. Lucie wiggled beneath him, aligning their bodies, and stared up at him, her face as serious as a deacon’s. She stroked his shoulders and then used her nails to rake across his flesh in an action that was painful and arousing as hell.
He gripped a hank of hair and pulled, forcing her head back so he could kiss her exposed throat, taking what he wanted. Her breathing came fast now and she could not keep her hips still. She called to him, with upward thrusts, pressing his engorged flesh between his belly and hers. He reached between her legs and found her honey-wet and ready.
Sky kissed her lips as he drove inside her and still it was not close enough. Their tongues warred, greedy and frantic to have each other. Lucie locked her strong legs about his back and lifted up so he could drive more deeply into her. They rocked in opposition, striking each other in a pounding motion that reminded Sky of the waves on the Great Lakes during a winter gale. She clutched his shoulders now, throwing back her head. His Lakota name issued from her lips in a long tortured cry. Now she threw herself away from him, her arms flung wide. Her body slackened as she surrendered to the internal storm that shook her. He had given her pleasure, but he knew he did not deserve his own. He must be careful or she might conceive.
His heart ached as longing obliterated desire and he realized that he wanted that, wanted for Lucie to carry his child. Wouldn’t it be amazing to have a baby with Lucie?
Sky’s mind flashed an image of Sacred Cloud, dying in his arms. His friend would never have a woman, never smell the sweet musty odor of sex. Guilt consumed him. How could he enjoy such bliss after taking everything from Sacred Cloud?
He wasn’t worthy of Lucie. And she deserved a man of honor, someone better than him.
He pulled out.
But his orgasm was already coming. He tore himself from her just in time, clenching his erection as his ejaculation spilled onto the blanket.
“What are you doing?” she cried.
Then he fell like a bull charging off the cliff of a buffalo drop, but instead of landing broken on the rocks, he landed on the soft mounds of her breasts. He did not want to crush her, so he tried to roll to his back. Lucie pounded his chest. He stared up in astonishment at her flailing fists.
“What did you do?” she cried.
“Lucie.” He raised his hands to deflect the blows that rained down on him. “Stop now.”
She pressed her hands to her face. Kneeling now, she curled in on herself as she began to weep.
Sky reached. “I’m sorry, I never meant to…to…”
She threw her hands down and glared at him. “To what—love me?”
She stood and yanked the blanket about herself.
“You are just like all men! Worse,” she hissed. “Be cause you made me believe you were different. I hate you! And I hate him for sending you to me.”
He filled with self-loathing at her words. “You can tell him so tomorrow.”
She glared.
He could not meet her eyes past the shame that welled inside him like poison.
“I never want to see you again.” The venom in her words pierced him like the fangs of a rattler.
He nodded his acceptance. “You’ll have your wish tomorrow, when we reach the fort.”
Lucie did not see Sky for the rest of the night, but felt he was near. When he returned, the stars were still out. She rose when she realized he was saddling Falcon. He did not speak to her as he offered her a hand up. But once she was mounted he lifted his gaze and stared up at her.
“I’m sorry, Lucie, for what happened last night.”
“Of course you are.” Humiliation burned her cheeks and the chunk of regret in her throat choked out her words.
He regretted it. Still his regret made that tiny diamond crystal of hope go dark.
“I never meant to hurt you.”
It took all her resolve not to cry again so she nodded her understanding.
Sky swung up before her and lifted the reins. When the sun burst free of the land to the east, they were loping through the tall grass as if Sky could not wait to be rid of her. She felt stupid and used. Of course he’d taken her. After she’d stripped down and offered herself to him like a soiled dove, what had she expected him to do? She had become exactly what some men had called her.
She had gotten what she’d asked for, just once she had lain with a man who excited her, felt him moving inside her. But instead of making her life complete, it filled her with a longing. The knowledge of what would never be hers. And he was so disgusted with her that he had pulled himself from inside her before spilling his seed.
She closed her eyes at that final humiliation. After her escape from the Sioux she had thought that nothing could ever shame her like that again. How wrong she had been.
Had she really thought he might share her desire to create a baby? For one moment last night, she entertained the fantasy that he was trying to spare her from a pregnancy. But she could not delude herself any longer. Perhaps they
were all right and she was unfit as a mother, ruined as so many had called her.
She scowled as the rays of light set the prairie ablaze with color. The sooner he left her, the better, for she could not even look at him without feeling the hot rush of humiliation and fury.
Even though they left before dawn, they did not arrive until after midday. Fort Sully sat on the east bank of the Missouri. Unlike Fort Laramie, Sully had no surrounding battlements. From a distance it appeared to be a low, squat collection of stone houses stretched along the wide flat bank of the river. The opposite shore was some one hundred feet higher, which made Lucie wonder why they would choose the lower ground.
They checked in at the guardhouse and were escorted to the commanding officer’s residence, just beyond the officer’s two-story residence and across from the barracks. Lucie’s appearance caused quite a stir among the enlisted men. Sky had dismounted and now led Lucie, still seated on Falcon, across the open parade grounds. She now wore her hair in twin braids. Her skinning knife hung from about her neck and her moccasins were clearly visible from her seat astride his horse. Her skirts had worked themselves up to her knee, but she did nothing to adjust them. It was not her legs that drew the soldiers’ stares, but what always made her the center of attention—the facial tattoos.
Sky was shocked to see the men whispering behind their hands like young girls. Some even pointed at Lucie in a manner he found offensive. Sky’s dark mood turned black as he glared at the men.
Lucie rode with her chin up and eyes forward as if she were a condemned prisoner. He admired her courage. Lucie had the heart of a warrior inside her. Sky dismounted at the gate and now led Ceta to the hitching post before the commander’s quarters.
He met them out front, having been alerted by a runner of their arrival.
“Welcome to Fort Sully. William Reilly here.” He extended his hand to Sky, who took it for the briefest time possible. “And you are?”
