She turned her face toward his. "So kiss me." On impulse she leaned forward and brushed her lips against his. "Better yet, I'll kiss you."
She watched his eyes drift shut as she pressed a kiss to his sensual mouth. She was exhilarated as she found this power to make a man feel as he made her feel.
"I've been wanting to do this for days," he murmured.
"So why didn't you?" She traced the line of his jaw with her finger, not knowing what made her so bold. "Why didn't you kiss me, Hunter?"
"Because I don't want to become involved. I don't want to care about you. I can't."
"But you already do," she whispered. "Don't you?"
He slipped his hands around her waist and drew her into his lap. Alexandra let go of her fishing line, too caught up in the moment to care.
"Yes. I do. I do care. But it doesn't make any sense. It would never work. We're too different."
Their lips met again, hungrily. She tugged the leather tie at the nape of his neck and freed his shoulder-length red hair, his magical hair. She ran her fingers through the thick tresses, amazed that a man's hair could be so soft, so sensual, yet so masculine at the same time.
"Things don't always make sense, do they, Hunter?" She was questioning herself as much as she was him. "And things don't always happen the way you think they're going to, either."
He slipped his hand inside her rabbit cloak to cup her breast through the soft doeskin tunic Judith had given her. "Doesn't make sense," she repeated, her thoughts blurring with the sensation of his mouth on hers and the heat of his hand.
Hunter kissed the hollow of her throat as he unlaced the bodice of her doeskin tunic. When his hand touched her bare breast, she groaned, amazed by the sensation. He touched her nipple with his thumb and immediately her nipple puckered against his rough flesh.
His tongue delved deep in her mouth and she strained against him, reveling in the taste of him and the shivers of pleasure he sent through her body.
"Alexandra," he whispered hoarsely in her ear. "Let me make love to you, sweeting. It's what we want, both of us."
Somehow her fingers had found the laces of his tunic. Somehow she had found her way to the crispy hair of his broad muscular chest. "No," she murmured, her hand exploring his hard, male body. "I can't."
"I'll not hurt you. I swear by the Christ, I won't. I just want to touch you. Like this." He rolled her nipple between his thumb and forefinger in a slow, deliciously agonizing way. "I want to kiss you like this." He buried his head between her bare breasts and pressed his hot mouth to her responding flesh.
She shook her head. She was breathless. Her mouth was sore from his kisses. Her mind was a whirl of confused thoughts. She physically ached, but for what, she didn't know. "I can't," she repeated. "I want to, Hunter, but I just can't."
"Why not?" He lifted her breast with his hand. His tongue touched her nipple and she leaned back, awash in glorious sensation. His hand was still touching her in that delicious way, caressing every curve of her body. She could feel herself growing moist between her thighs.
"Why not, Alex?" he repeated, lifting his head to stare directly into her hooded eyes. "Why won't you let me? We've both been hurt. We both need healing. Let us heal each other as only a man and a woman can."
She wanted to say yes. She wanted to make love with Hunter. It was all she'd thought about since the last time he'd touched her. She wanted to know what it was between a man and a woman that men fought wars over, that men killed for, but . . . "I can't," she said again. She buried her face into the hollow of his shoulder, trying to gain control of herself and the situation. "I want to. I don't mean to lead you on. But . . . but I can't, Hunter."
He slid his hand out from her tunic. "Why not?"
"Because . . ." She couldn't look up at him. "You're going to laugh."
"Tell me why."
She forced herself to look him in the eyes. "Because it's all I have to give to my husband someday. If anyone will ever marry me, that is."
He swore softly and looked away.
"No. It's true. Think about it. Try to see it from my point of view. It's all I have, Hunter. It can only be given once."
His muscles suddenly tensed. The tenderness was gone from his voice when he spoke again. "You mean you expect me to marry you?"
"No!" She was completely taken off guard by his words. She held the bodice of the doeskin dress closed with one hand. "No. Of course not. I just meant—"
He pushed her out of his lap and rose. "You're just like all other women, aren't you, Alexandra?"
"No! No, I'm not." She leaped up to stand before him. To face him down. No man would speak to her like this. No man would make her do what she didn't want to do. Not ever again. "I'm not like everyone else. I wouldn't be alone like I am if I was. My papa wouldn't have shipped me off, ashamed of me. If I was like all other women I'd not have been kidnapped, and survived, would I?"
"You're just like the women who try to trap a man into marriage."
"Trap you into marriage!" She laughed at the absurdity of his words. "I'm not trying to trap you into marriage. I'd sooner marry Two Crows than marry you. What makes you think I would want to marry you?"
"You let me touch you. You kissed me like a woman who wanted to be made love to."
"I let you touch me like that because it felt good. Because you made me feel good. That doesn't mean I want to marry you, you stinking, arrogant, jackanapes!"
"This is why I'm never getting involved with another woman," he said hotly, pointing an accusing finger. "This is why! You want the world, but you don't want to give anything in return."
She dropped her hands to her hips, not caring that she was baring her breasts. The night air was cold on her bare skin, but she didn't notice that either. "What are you talking about?" she shouted furiously. "What the hell are you talking about? You're not making any sense. I hate men! They never make any sense."
"Keep your honey lips," Hunter thundered, walking away. "Keep your soft breasts."
"Son of a stinking cur!" she shouted at him. "I hate you. I hope the cap-i-tan does come after you!"
He disappeared around the bend in the stream, putting an infuriatingly abrupt end to the shouting match. "Knave," she murmured to herself, wrapping her arms around her waist to ward off the sudden chill of the evening. "It didn't feel that great anyway!"
Chapter Twelve
"Come on, where's that sense of adventure you're always nagging me about?" Jon prodded. "The fort is barely two hours' walk directly east. It won't put us far behind, and we could get a decent meal and soft cot to sleep on."
Alexandra walked behind the two men listening to their conversation, trying not to appear sulky. After the incident with Hunter last night, he'd been in a foul mood all day. He had argued for hours with Jon over pointless matters. Worse yet, he'd simply ignored Alexandra.
"I don't want a soft bed to sleep in," Hunter snapped. "I want to find this damned Blue-Green Eyes. I've grown tired of the chase. I want to see this through, Jon."
"A good night's sleep and a hearty meal will fortify you." Jon glanced over his shoulder at Alexandra taking up the rear, leading the mule. "Tell him, Alexandra. He looks like hell, doesn't he? The man needs a decent brandy and a hand of cards."
She shook her head. "Don't get me into this. He could care less what I think."
"Lovers' spat," Jon teased. "Nothing more." He turned back to Hunter. "Come on, friend. I'm dying for a brandy and some companionship. Just one night at the fort and we'll be on our way."
"Last time we stopped at Potter's Fort you stayed three weeks," Hunter grumbled. "I haven't got three weeks till the snow flies."
"What can I say? The twins? Vega and Frieda? What man could resist a pair of long-legged blondes?" He ran to catch up with Hunter, who had increased the length of his stride. "But it won't happen again. One night, I swear to God, and I'll go on north with you. We'll find Blue-Green Eyes. I'll kill the murdering pettifogger myself."
Hunte
r looked over his shoulder at Alexandra. "I suppose you'd like a hot bath and a soft tick to sleep in." It was the first civil thing he'd said to her all day.
She shrugged. "It makes no difference to me. Do what you want. I can bathe in a stream and sleep on the ground. I've been doing it this long, haven't I?"
Jon slowed up, letting Alexandra catch him. "Come on! Roasted beef. Pastry tarts. Wine. A bath. I bet they've soap. Bubbly lady's soap. The fort does trading. Their storehouse is enormous. Tell Hunter you want to stop for the night. He couldn't give a lick for my comfort, but he'll stop the night for you, Alexandra."
She looked at Jon. "I said I don't care." Honestly, she didn't. She was so miserable after the fight with Hunter last night that even the prospect of a hot bath and a hearty meal didn't sound inviting. "It's Hunter's decision. It's his quest. I'm just trying to get back to my aunt's in Annapolis with my scalp attached, remember?"
She heard Hunter sigh. "All right," he finally said. "But one night."
"Yes!" Jon leapt in the air, swinging a fist in excitement. "One night of heaven!" He ran to catch up with Hunter again. "One night!" He lowered his voice. "One night with the Swedish twins?" He elbowed him with a cackle of glee.
"One night," Hunter repeated, threatening him with a stern finger. "But then I move on, Jon. I'm warning you. with or without you."
Less than two hours later, Hunter, Alexandra, and Jon arrived at Fort Potter. They were welcomed by two red-uniformed English soldiers and escorted through the gate of the garrisoned wooden fort that jutted up out of the pine-forest floor.
Inside the log and mud-mortared walls, Alexandra was amazed to find a small town. Though it was a military outpost, Jon had explained to her, many of the men had either married Indian women or simply brought Indian women into the fort to help pass the lonely hours. Through the gates was a large open muddy area and then beyond the yard were one- and two-story log cabins attached by a maze of connecting covered walkways. There were several small children running about the compound, along with a pack of yapping dogs, two flocks of geese, and several bleating goats.
The soldiers, who seemed to know both Hunter and Jon, led them through the gates and into the office, the first doorway they came to, in the haphazardly built inner log walls.
Alexandra hung behind Jon and Hunter as they entered the large room that seemed to her more like the common room of a tavern than a military facility. It was sparsely furnished with several battered English pieces and two dozen or so crude wooden stools. Two large dining tables dominated the smoky room. Uniformed men sat at both, some eating, others playing cards. A lone red rooster strutted down the center of one of the plank tables.
At the far wall was a large stone fireplace. A young, mob-capped girl stirred a pot of some sort of soup or stew. A leggy dog ran in its circular cage on the hearth, turning a large hunk of roasting meat on an iron spit.
Alexandra felt her stomach rumble. "Nice place," she murmured sarcastically in Jon's ear. "This was the civilized establishment I walked two hours for?"
He turned back to grin at her. "What did you expect out here? The queen's drawing room?" He shrugged. "The drink isn't sour and the food lacks maggots. What more could a man ask?"
Hunter leaned to whisper in her other ear. "My, how the mighty have fallen. This is civilized to Jon-boy."
Alexandra looked up to see Hunter smiling at her. His anger was gone, the black cloud that had shadowed his face all day, absent. She smiled back. "If this suits you, gentlemen, it suits me."
Hunter was still smiling. "That's the spirit."
Spotting Hunter and Jon in the doorway, one of the officers rose. "Hunter! Jon! How the hell are you two? I heard just last week your scalps were hanging from a Mohawk lodge pole somewhere north of here!" The bearded, blond-haired man slapped Hunter on the back, laughing heartily. "I should have known that lying half-breed Joseph was full of crap. I pay the man to bring me back information and all he does is tell tall tales and drink my whiskey!"
Hunter laid his hand on Alexandra's shoulder. "Joshua, I want you to meet the Lady Alexandra Lambert. Alexandra, Captain Joshua Potter. King's servant and one hell of a soldier. He runs this sorry excuse for an English fort. Carved it out of the forest nearly ten years ago."
The captain took Alexandra's hand, bowed and brushed his lips against it. "A lady. You're the first to grace these humble walls, madame. Pleased to make your acquaintance."
"Pleased to meet you, Captain."
Still holding her hand, he nodded toward Hunter. Jon had beaten a hasty retreat to the far table and had already been dealt into a hand of cards. "So tell me how such a beautiful woman could get caught up with these nitty muck-worms?"
Alexandra looked to Hunter for support. She really didn't want to have to go through the entire tale of her uncle's and cousin's death and her kidnapping by Two Crows. She just wasn't up to it.
As if sensing her thoughts, Hunter took her hand from the captain's. "Long story, Josh. One meant to tell over a hot meal and a cold ale. You think we could find this young lady a bath and a little privacy? We've been traveling hard."
"I'll have Martha see right to it, ma'am." He spoke directly to Alexandra, ignoring Hunter. "But please, promise that once you've been refreshed you'll grace us with your company again. Come and sup with us. It's been a long time since I've enjoyed a lady's supper conversation."
She nodded. "That would be fine. But first a bath."
"And tea," Hunter stipulated. "The lady would like a true cup of English tea."
"Tea it is, then!" Captain Potter turned back toward the fireplace. "Martha!"
The girl dropped her spoon in the cast-iron pot and came running. "Captain?"
She was barely more than a child of ten or twelve, her face still dimpled with the roundness of a girl who was not yet a woman. Alexandra wondered what she was doing out here in the middle of nowhere. What terrible fate had befallen a girl so young? But Martha was clean and appeared to be in good health.
"This is Lady Alexandra. I want you to take her to the guest's quarters and see she has water for a bath and a clean change of clothing. Hot water, Martha. Have Allen haul it up."
Martha nodded with each instruction as she wiped her hands on her apron. "Yes, Captain."
"And, most importantly, a cup of tea. Have Allen fetch the tea chest from my private quarters. The lady will instruct you on how to make it."
She bobbed her head. "Yes, sir. Right away, Captain." The girl turned shyly to Alexandra. "This way, ma'am, if you please."
"Go on," Hunter murmured in Alexandra's ear. "You're safe enough here. I won't be far. I'm going to sit right here with Joshua. You call me, and I'll come."
His voice was strangely affectionate. She just couldn't figure this man out! How could he have been shouting at her the way he had yesterday and now be so sweet. "Thank you," she murmured.
He gave her a little wave as she followed Martha through an inner doorway. As she disappeared from the view of the room down the dark, musty, hallway, she heard Hunter's rich, husky voice and she smiled to herself. When he was kind, like this, when he was laughing, she almost felt as if she was falling in love with him.
Heart's wounds! Wasn't that a ridiculous thought. She, Lady Alexandra Lambert, in love with the Hunter of the Shawnee. Alexandra laughed aloud in the dark hallway and Martha turned around to glance at her suspiciously.
"No, I've not taken leave of my senses," she assured the young girl. "Not yet at least."
Not half an hour later Alexandra lay perfectly still in a large wooden tub, hot water to her chin. With her eyes half closed, she sighed in utter contentment. Never had a bath felt so good. She took a sip from her teacup and then rested her head on the cotton towel again. She'd forgotten how glorious a hot bath, and a hot cup of tea, could be. The only thing that felt better was—
She sat up.
Hunter. There she was, thinking about him again. Remembering what his hands had felt like on her breasts. Remembering the tas
te of him. She groaned aloud. Did all women fall into this wanton trap so easily, or was it just her?
She rose out of the tub and grabbed the towel Martha had left for her. Standing in a puddle of water in the tiny room, she dried herself off. Across the narrow wooden bed lay a plain blue sprigged gown Martha had brought for her. Beside the gown was a pile of ladies' underclothing, including stays and woolen stockings. Martha was cleaning her leather traveling clothes, so she had to put on the gown, but the thought of all those tight undergarments made her shudder. All she wanted to do was to go downstairs and have a bit of supper with Hunter. Then she wanted to crawl onto the goose tick and sleep.
She reached out to finger the soft but sturdy material of the gown. What if she were to skip the underclothing and just go down to supper in the dress, stockings and her moccasins? Who would know? Who would care?
Without another thought to the propriety she had once been so concerned with, she dressed, brushed out her clean hair and tied it back, still damp, with a grosgrain ribbon. After finishing the last sip of tea, she went out the door, down the stairs and down the long dark hallway back the way she and Martha had come. The night air was so cold in the narrow hallway that she wished she'd worn her rabbit cloak, but she knew the common room would be warm from the fireplace and that thought made her hurry.
She stepped through the door into the dining room and Hunter immediately rose and came toward her. "Feel better, sweeting?" When he leaned toward her, she could smell the ale on his breath. There he was, smiling at her again. It was almost as if he was smitten with her. Has to be the strong drink, she thought.
"I feel much better, thank you."
"I had Martha keep you a warm plate." He led her back to the table where he'd been seated. "Hungry? The stew is delicious. A damned sight tastier than Jon's."
She looked up at him, smiling. He'd shed his outer tunic in the heat of the room and now wore his fringed leather leggings and a sleeveless doeskin vest that tied up the front. Here in such a crude setting, so far away from home and all that was once familiar, he seemed shockingly attractive to her with his brilliant red hair pulled back in a queue and in his ear the copper earring that sparkled in the firelight.
His Wild Heart Page 13
