Captive Bride

by Carol Finch

  "I owe the woman my life." Hawk broke in before Chumani stirred up too many memories. He had a tender place in his heart for this Crow maiden he had known since childhood, but everything had changed now. Hawk's life was entangled with Rozalyn's, and only time could sort out the mess he had made of things. "I cannot easily forget my debt."

  "I wish I were the one who had such a strong hold on your heart, Maishu," she murmured. She leaned toward him, her dark eyes intently focused on his sensuous lips. "I have missed you these past months. . . ."

  Her soft body brushed against Hawk's bare chest, and her lips opened in silent invitation. But it was not the same, Hawk thought miserably. There was no fire in her kiss, no breathless urgency compelling him to pull this shapely maiden into his arms. Hawk cursed himself a hundred times in that moment, for he knew only the blue-eyed spitfire made him burn with desire. Damn her! She had taken his freedom. Hawk could no longer touch another woman without comparing her to Rozalyn.

  The feisty witch had cast a spell on him. He had once enjoyed the charms of many woman, but the feel of Chumani's skin and her feminine scent no longer tempted him. He wished he had not returned to the fort. He should have stayed in the wilderness, away from any female who might remind him that it was Rozalyn he wanted.

  When the creaking of the door made Hawk and Chumani draw apart, Hawk cursed the intruders, not for interrupting their embrace, but simply because of who they were. There stood Rozalyn, her eyes blue fires. She looked as hostile as a Blackfoot war party. Behind her, Chief Zitkatanka was grinning at Hawk's uncomfortable predicament.

  "So this is the real reason you traded me to the Sioux," Rozalyn hissed venomously.

  Try as she might, she could not overcome her jealousy. She had spent the past week wondering if Hawk had met up with Half-Head and if the lout was still alive. But here he was, at the fort, camped in the room of an Indian woman, holding her in the very arms that had held Rozalyn not so long ago.

  Hawk overlooked Rozalyn's stormy remark to fling an annoyed comment at Zitkatanka. "I thought you were my friend. You promised to keep the woman until I came to retrieve her," he snapped.

  "If you were truly a friend of the Sioux you would not have forced this woman upon our people," the chief countered. "She has been shouting her anger since we took her from you."

  "The great chief of the Sioux cannot control this mere wisp of a woman?" Hawk eased upright on the cot, his mouth twisting in a mocking smile. "Could it be that your trophies from battle were stolen from a worthier brave? How is it that you cannot keep one white woman in your midst without meeting with trouble when you have led your warriors into battle against fierce enemies and emerged the victor?"

  The insult stung like the barb of an arrow, wounding the chief's male pride. He puffed up indignantly, his dark eyes glistening with anger. "This is no ordinary woman. She does not behave like a squaw and she is very determined to have her way. But her way is not that of our people. She is trouble—yours. . . ." Zitkatanka pointed a tanned finger at Hawk. "I did not bring this woman to this land. It was your doing. Soon, my people will journey to our winter village. I wish to gather our belongings on the travois before this woman tears our camp apart." His dark eyes narrowed on Hawk and he paused a moment before delivering his ultimatum. "If Hawk-that-Soars wishes to trap beaver in the Sioux nation he will take charge of his woman and let the red man live in peace."

  Rozalyn wanted to scream out her frustration, but she somehow managed to keep silent while Hawk and Zitkatanka argued in the Sioux dialect. How she wished i she could speak the Indian tongue. Nothing would please her more than to shout curses at Hawk in that language. Her gaze drifted to the shapely Indian maiden who was garbed in a beaded doehide dress. The expression on her young face assured Rozalyn that Hawk had stolen her heart as well. But why should that come as a surprise, she asked herself bitterly. Hawk had a unique way about him, a masculine charisma that no woman could resist. Except for me, Rozalyn told herself proudly. This was the last time she would ever lay eyes on Hawk. The man had hurt her too many times, in too many ways. The only way to salvage her sanity was to put a world between them.

  Tilting a proud chin, Rozalyn marched up to Chumani and forced the semblance of a smile. "Perhaps you cannot understand my words, but I will speak them just the same. You can have your lover translate since he is well versed in many languages." Her eyes took on a mutinous gleam when they momentarily swung to the bare-chested Hawk. "Since you seem to greatly prize this"—Rozalyn searched her vocabulary for a single word to describe a conniving, two-timing, insensitive brute, but a succinct description of Hawk escaped her—"this man ... if one can call him that," she added in a reasonably civil tone, "he is yours for the taking. What little respect I once had for him has vanished." A sugar-coated smile grazed her lips when her gaze focused on Chumani. "And you can tell your lover to go straight to hell. I never want to see him again."

  Chumani had picked up a few words of English during her stay at the fort, but she could not keep up with Rozalyn's rapid-fire remarks. Although she returned Rozalyn's sticky smile, she didn't have the foggiest notion what the white woman was babbling about.

  "Dammit, Roz, what you think was going on here, wasn't," Hawk protested. "Chumani was only tending my wound."

  Rozalyn refused to speak directly to Hawk or even to acknowledge his presence. As a matter of fact, she would have preferred him to drop off the edge of the earth. She continued to speak to Chumani, who didn't have the faintest idea what she was saying.

  "Tell the miserable bastard that I was unaware his lying lips had sustained an injury. My eyes did not deceive me. When I opened the door, the two of you were kissing. Since Hawk has made his bed here, he can damned well sleep in it. I want no more association with him. And you can also tell him that he was right about one thing—there can be nothing but fire and ice between us, not friendship. He has spoiled any chance of that."

  Hawk's temper got the best of him. The Sioux chief had refused to provide protection for the troublesome witch who refused to look at him when she spoke. Roughly, he grabbed Rozalyn by the arm, spinning her around to meet his perturbed glare. "You seem to forget that you are my hostage, minx. You will go where I tell you, when I tell you. Must I remind you that you gave me your word that you would cause no trouble until I deliver you to the summer rendezvous?"

  Rozalyn glowered at the hand that held her captive; then she focused her menacing stare on a pair of smoldering green eyes. "Kindly give me back my arm. If you have need of one, why not take Chumani's? She seems eager to offer that and anything else that might pleasure you." Rozalyn's tone was very sarcastic. "As far as my word is concerned, I feel no obligation to you or to the Sioux chief. My word is only as binding as your loyalty." Snapping blue eyes pinned Hawk against the adobe wall. "Your loyalty is no deeper than the benefit you can derive for yourself." With that, Rozalyn jerked her arm free and stormed toward the door.

  "What do you intend to do? Set out alone for St. Louis? Half-Head might still be running loose. I would hate to venture a guess about how you would fare with him." Hawk snorted. "The truth is, you need me as much as I need you."

  Rozalyn pivoted about, and her eyes raked over Hawk disdainfully. "I have decided to find myself a scout who can protect me from the hazards of the wild. That shouldn't be too difficult. The stockade is swarming with hunters and trappers. I am certain one of them will accommodate me in any manner I so choose."

  A devilish smile crept to the corners of Hawk's lips. "It won't be the same, cherie. You will find yourself comparing your future lover to me. His kiss and caress will only serve to help you recall how it was between us."

  Rozalyn fought an urge to shake the stuffing out of him for voicing that arrogant remark. Did he think he was the only man on earth who could stir her? The conceited ogre. Oh, why had she sought Hawk's help in her dealings with Lenore? If she had selected another man, she would still be at home.

  "We shall just see about that," Rozalyn
parried spitefully. "I intend to try your philosophy. I will sleep with every man in the stockade until I find one who suits me and you will quickly be forgotten."

  When Rozalyn stalked off, the Sioux braves moved aside to let her pass, but they quickly closed in around the door when Hawk charged after her. A muddled frown plowed Hawk's brow when he confronted Zitkatanka who refused to move from the exit. Why the devil was the Sioux chief protecting that fire-breathing witch? Not ten minutes ago, the chief had sworn the woman was worth her weight in trouble.

  "I do not think it wise to approach your woman until she has gained control of her temper," Zitkatanka advised. A wry smile worked its way across his lips. "She wreaked havoc in our camp. In her present mood, I fear you and this trading post will fare no better."

  Hawk could not argue with the chiefs sound logic, but neither could he turn Rozalyn loose in a stockade brimming with men. The thought that she might escape annoyed him, but the thought of her surrendering to another man turned him wrong side out. Dammit, why couldn't that stubborn wench listen to reason? He hadn't invited Chumani to kiss him! But Rozalyn would never believe that. She was so stubborn and defiant that he could declare the sky was blue and she would deny it.

  "Whatever else the woman is, she is my responsibility," Hawk grumbled as he bodily removed the Sioux chief from his path. "I have to find her."

  Zitkatanka grasped Hawk's arm to detain him, a slow smile drifting onto his weather-beaten features. "You have also fought bravely in battle, Hawk-that-Soars. But I do not think even you can control the woman with blue fire flickering in her eyes." He inclined his head toward the gentle Crow maiden who had never raised her voice to a man and who would never dare to do so. "The other woman is obedient. She would make you a good wife. But this one is as free and wild as an eagle. Force cannot tame the woman with sky-blue eyes. Take heed to my warning and do not chase impossible dreams."

  Although Hawk knew the wise chief was right, that didn't change the way of things. He couldn't allow Rozalyn to escape him, not if he hoped to deal with Aubrey DuBois. Rozalyn was Hawk's only weapon. Muttering under his breath, he elbowed his way through the congregated Sioux warriors, and his keen gaze circled the adobe huts that lined the stockade, searching for some sign of the woman who had kept his life in constant turmoil.

  Chapter 17

  After storming out of Chumani's shack, Rozalyn marched across the compound to approach a group of trappers. She requested a volunteer to take her back to St. Louis, and although some of the men leered at her, she firmly stood her ground. Jonas Adler offered to serve as her guide, so Rozalyn followed him to his shack to discuss the details of their journey.

  When Jonas closed the door and shoved the wooden bolt against the lock, Rozalyn frowned warily. She was in no mood for a tete-a-tete after her confrontation with Hawk. She was too raw inside to turn to another man when it was Hawk she wanted.

  But he doesn't want you, Rozalyn reminded herself harshly. She had found Hawk with another woman— twice. First, Molly Perkins and now the lovely Indian maid, Chumani. Why had she allowed herself to believe that, in time, Hawk might feel some emotional attachment to her? It was obvious that he preferred to take his pleasure wherever he found it. Rozalyn had only been convenient for a time. Hawk was a man with animal lusts and indiscriminate tastes. He could never refuse the temptation of a woman, any woman.

  Rozalyn's contemplative musings were interrupted when Jonas strolled up in front of her. He was sporting a rakish grin that left her with the uneasy feeling that he expected some physical form of payment for becoming her escort to St. Louis. Isn't that just like a man? she thought cynically.

  "What's your name, pretty lady?" Jonas inquired, his all-consuming gaze flooding over her curvaceous figure and hovering overly long on the full swells of her breasts. "If we are to spend the next few weeks together, I think we should be on a first-name basis."

  "Rozalyn," She took a step back, causing Jonas to chuckle at her obvious mistrust of his intentions.

  "If you don't mind my asking, Rozalyn, what are you doing so far from home?"

  Rozalyn thoughtfully chewed on her bottom lip, wondering whether to tell the truth or concoct a lie. She was mindful of the catastrophe that had befallen her the last time she'd allowed her tongue to outdistance her brain. While she was contemplating her reply, the door rattled beneath a fierce, impatient knock.

  "Roz. open this door!" Hawk commanded gruffly.

  "Go away," she shouted back at him. "I never want to lay eyes on you again."

  Hawk's response was as loud and angry as hers. "I have something to say and I am not leaving until I have said it!" he thundered.

  "Go tell it to someone who cares. I'm sure Chumani will hang on your every word!" Rozalyn all but screamed.

  "She is a long-time friend."

  "At least you have one to your credit."

  A wary frown was now on Jonas' brow. "Who the hell is that?"

  "Rozalyn, I am dangerously close to losing my temper," Hawk warned.

  "Then why don't you run along and retrieve it before it completely escapes you." She sniffed. Although she had heard the faintly dangerous undertone of Hawk voice, she didn't care how furious he became. She could never make him as angry as he had made her. "Please r. on your way. I am not alone. I am entertaining gentleman at the moment, and I have no wish to h disturbed."

  "Open this door!" Hawk bellowed, emphasizing each word.

  "Only when hell freezes ov—"

  Rozalyn flinched when the door crashed against the wall, the lock broken to bits, the leather hinges sagging The scant moonlight framed Hawk's ominous figure which cast a long, threatening shadow. The furious gleam in his eyes would have made a panther cower, but it did not intimidate Rozalyn. She was just as angry as Hawk was, even more so. After all, she was the woman scorned and hell had no fury . . .

  Like a noble knight coming to a damsel's defense Jonas sheltered Rozalyn's body with his own. "Now hold on, Hawk." Jonas flung up a hand to forestall the fuming intruder who barreled into the room. "The lady and I were discussing business."

  "Like hell you were," Hawk growled mockingly. Hi glistening green eyes cut into Jonas like an eagle's sharp talons. "Take my advice, Adler. Leave while you can stil walk away on your own strength."

  "I don't want to fight you," Jonas managed to say in a civil tone. "The lady has shown her preference so why don't you accept that and leave us alone." It was difficult to remain calm when Hawk's flaming green eye were boring right through him. Jonas knew of Hawk' reputation as a fighter, and he was not looking for a brawl, not with Hawk. "If you will walk quietly away, we will forget the incident happened."

  "The lady belongs to me," Hawk gritted out, glaring around Jonas's broad shoulders to give Rozalyn the evil eye.

  Jonas swiveled his head around to cast a quizzical glance at the dark-haired beauty. "Did you come to the fort with Hawk?"

  "No."

  "Yes." Hawk contradicted her. "All the way from St. Louis." When Jonas' gaze swung back around, a sly smile rippled across Hawk's lips. "The lady and I have become very well acquainted during our long journey together."

  The implication hung heavily in the air. Jonas had no difficulty deciphering what Hawk meant. He also knew better than to battle with the man when he had his mind set on something. Rozalyn, breathtaking as she was, could not be worth having his body rearranged by the awesome mountaineer breathing down his neck. Jonas decided it best to bow out while he was physically able to do so.

  "Sorry, miss." Jonas veered around Hawk, leaving Rozalyn with no protection from her nemesis. "Hawk is a friend of mine. In this country a man needs as many friends as he can get."

  When Jonas pulled the wobbly door shut behind him, Rozalyn glared at the haughty smirk plastered on Hawk's handsome features. How she detested that arrogant smile. Her temper, which had been sorely put upon several times in the course of the evening, exploded.

  "How dare you boast of your conquest!" Rozalyn railed.
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  But words did not wound this big brute, and fuming glares bounced off him. Rozalyn was furious, so furious that she had an urge to throw something. She ached to strike out and hurt him, just as she had been hurt. Snatching up the porcelain pitcher from the crude commode, she hurled it at Hawk. He grunted uncomfortably when the makeshift weapon slammed into his belly, and before he could recover from the first assault or wipe the water from his eyes, a flying night stand collided with his shin.

  Frantically, Rozalyn's eyes darted around the room, searching for another weapon to hurl. The only object within reach was the cot. She upended it, but before she could shove it at Hawk, he lunged at her. Roughly he caught her to him, and she went into a frenzy. God, how she detested being restrained. Lately someone was always holding her down or tying her up. As his lean fingers dug into her waist Rozalyn reacted instinctively, desperately fighting for her freedom.

  Hawk swore he had latched on to an enraged wildcat. Rozalyn fought him with every ounce of strength she possessed, clawing at his face, pounding on his chest, leveling blows to his tender shoulder. When he finally managed to restrain her, he jerked her full length against him, restricting all movement.

  The feel of his heart thudding against her shoulder, of his muscled torso crushing into her, played havoc with her sanity. Rozalyn was on the verge of hysteria. She hated herself for allowing Hawk to upset her so.

  "Let me go! I detest your touch," she choked out, finding it virtually impossible to fight back her tears. She wanted to be anywhere except in the confining circle of Hawk's arms. She despised him for suppressing her with his superior strength.

  "I am not releasing you until you calm down." Hawk clamped his arms more tightly about her when she writhed for freedom.

  "And I will not calm down until you let me go!" Rozalyn hissed back at him.

  Again tears threatened. Hawk's manhandling was the last straw, and suddenly she was sobbing, frustration causing her to shudder uncontrollably. Rozalyn didn't want Hawk to see her cry, but she couldn't help herself.