Each Time We Love

by Shirlee Busbee

  Savanna arched up against him in violent reaction to his bold movement, and despite the frantic leap of her pulse and the melting sensation at his touch, for just a moment cold reality washed over her. She shoved hard against his broad shoulders and, tearing her lips from his, pleaded huskily, "Adam! Please! I don't want... Please, stop! Please..."

  The sapphire-blue eyes glittered down into hers, a lock of black hair lay fallen across his dark forehead and Savanna's heart twisted in her breast as she stared up at him. His features were flushed with passion and there was a sensuous curve to his mouth that made her belly clench with desire. As they stared intently at each other, Savanna's breathing almost stopped as the sapphire-blue eyes darkened with some nameless emotion, and then his head dropped and he pressed a butterfly-soft kiss to the corner of her mouth and murmured, "Oh, I definitely intend to please, sweetheart."

  Savanna didn't doubt it—she feared that he would please her far too much, but before she could offer further resistance, his mouth covered hers, his lips hungry and urgent against hers, his tongue forcing itself between her teeth, penetrating the new territory it had won. His kiss was drugging, and helplessly her hands caressed his dark head, her yearning body heedless of anything but the spell he was weaving around her. She ached in places she had never known could ache, and when his knowing hand began to explore the soft flesh between her thighs, she shuddered with the force of the pleasure he evoked. Savanna writhed under the carnal onslaught that Adam lavished upon her, her mouth was full of him, her swollen breasts were crushed against his hard chest and her untried body accepted the seeking thrust of his fingers as he brought her to the very edge of ecstasy.

  Moaning with delight, she slid her arms around him, her hands gliding over his broad back, her fingers digging into the warm skin as the tight, unbearable ache in her loins spread throughout her body. His lips left hers, blazing a trail of fire to her breasts, where his tongue curled around her hard nipples, his teeth grazing the tender tips until Savanna thought she would go mad from the sensations he aroused. He gave her no succor from his plundering lips and hands and she became frantic for relief from the hungry, mindless need that increased with every second. Powerless against the demands of her body, she thrashed beneath him, desperate to reach some dim, only-guessed-at pinnacle. Obsessed by the elemental emotions that beset her, Savanna was hardly aware when Adam shifted, nudging her thighs apart to make room for his big body between her legs.

  Adam was certain that he would indeed die if he didn't soon sink into the slick warmth he knew awaited him. There had never been a woman like Savanna—she was fire and silk in his arms; the taste of her, the feel of her soft flesh against his and her wild undulations so befuddling his brain that nothing existed in this world but the wanton creature twisting in his arms. The demands of his body had him groaning half in pain, half in pleasure when he slipped between her legs, and he was fearful that simply entering her would unman him. He fought to slow the pace, to gain control of his emotions, but it was useless, Savanna's abandoned movements shattering his resolve. She pushed up against his swollen manhood, the soft brush of those red-gold curls between her thighs making him curse softly at his helplessness. Contenting himself with one last, hungry tug of her nipple, he found her mouth and kissed her with all the pent-up hunger within him, his hand slipping beneath her hips to lift her to receive him. Trembling from the power of his need, he slid slowly into her silken sheath, only half aware of the incredible tightness, too lost in his own pleasure to realize that something was different. It was only when he broached that final frail barrier and her muscles clenched in instinctive rejection that the truth exploded in his brain, but by then it was far too late, far, far too late....

  Savanna was adrift with intense sensations; the seductive awareness of him sinking into her flesh and the amazement as her body had stretched to accept the fullness of him filled her with pleasure. The pain, when it came, was unexpected and helplessly she arched up against him, suddenly frantic to escape from him and what he was doing to her. But there was no escape. Adam's hard body was pressing hers into the soft grass, his chest was crushed against her breasts and his flesh was joined with hers. They lay there locked together for a dazed moment and then, muttering something against her mouth, Adam moved, thrusting deeply, urgently into her again and again. In stunned disbelief, Savanna was swept along with him, every frenzied stroke of his body lessening her pain until there was only wonder. Deep within her the coils of pleasure tightened with every powerful thrust he made, and then, without warning, just as Adam groaned aloud at his own explosive release, a pleasurable sensation rippled through Savanna, leaving her feeling languid and faintly astonished. So this was what drove men and women to behave so incomprehensibly at times, she thought stupidly, her heartbeat slowing, her body at peace.

  There was silence between them, Adam's warm body still atop hers, his flesh still joined with hers, and it was only gradually that the enormity of what had transpired between them began to dawn on Savanna. She stiffened in horrified denial, her eyes flying open to meet Adam's hard blue gaze.

  He shifted, resting the bulk of his weight on his forearms, but he made no move to lessen the contact between their bodies. His breathing and sanity had returned and with it came the unwelcome knowledge that he had held one major misconception about Savanna O'Rourke. Furious at the situation, but unable to tear himself away from her soft, clinging warmth, he stared down at her flushed, lovely face, rage and resentment and barely slaked desire stirring within him. Clever, manipulative, seductive little bitch, he thought savagely. She had tricked him with a lure as old as time and he, besotted fool that he was, had fallen, nay, rushed headlong into her silken trap.

  Despite the odd and irrational feeling of satisfaction he had that he was her first lover, Adam's main feelings were those of betrayal and fury. Women who looked like and lived as Savanna did were not supposed to be virgins. Hell. He'd been certain that Micajah had been her lover. He'd have sworn that it was true and yet... His mouth twisted. He had always made it a point, no matter what their station in life, to give innocent maids a wide berth—sexual congress with that type of woman invariably created problems, one of them being that it usually led to marriage. He was, without a doubt, a rascal with women, but he did have scruples, and those scruples forbade what had just happened. If he'd known, if he'd had the slightest inkling, he thought viciously, he would not have touched her with a barge pole.The contrary notion slyly occurred to him—that, virginity or not, nothing would have stopped him from taking her. Even now his body tingled with remembered pleasure and he was gallingly aware that it would take little effort on her part to bring him fully erect and eager to lose himself again in her intoxicatingly sweet heat....

  Adam wrenched himself away from the path his thoughts and body seemed intent on taking, his blue eyes darkening with temper. "Why the bloody hell didn't you say something? Christ! A damned virgin!" Staring suspiciously at her, he muttered, "Well? Isn't this when you name your price? Or are you waiting for me to make some sort of offer to recompense you? Isn't that usually the way it is?"

  Whatever Savanna had expected him to say, it certainly hadn't been that, nor in such an infuriating tone of voice, and she gazed up at him in stupefaction. He had been the one who had forced himself upon her, not the other way around, and if anyone had a right to be outraged, it was her. Recompense, indeed!

  Her mouth tight, she spat, "It was my body that was violated, not yours—I think you have insulted me enough."

  "Insult!" he snarled, irrationally angry that she dared to call what they had just shared insulting, and he lashed out at her. "Sweetheart, believe me, I haven't even started insulting you. Women like you have been laying clever snares for men like me for centuries, but I'll be damned if you're going to trap me so easily." Sending her an unfriendly look, he growled again, "A virgin! Just tell me one thing—why did you hide that interesting fact until it was too late for me to do anything about it?"

 
Her eyes a furious, glittering blue-green, she snapped, "Would it have made any difference? Would you have stopped? I asked you to, if you will remember."

  Adam winced and his mouth thinned. Her words, instead of making him feel ashamed, only fed his rage at the situation, his anger growing with every second as he felt his body beginning to respond to their compromising positions. Furious at what was happening to him, he tore himself away from her all-too-seductive flesh, and lying on his back beside her, he stared up at the blue sky. Grimly he replied, "Lady, you wanted me as much as I wanted you, and don't try to tell me that you didn't enjoy what we just shared."

  Savanna couldn't believe his words. Lifting herself up on her elbows, she glared at his recumbent form, hating him at that moment more than she had ever hated anyone in her life. "Why, you obnoxious, conceited, ass-eared son of a bitch! You kidnap me and terrorize me!" Her voice rose almost to a shriek. "Then you rape me and I'm supposed to have enjoyed it."

  Driven by devils he barely understood, infuriated that she could dismiss what they had just shared with such an ugly word, Adam, perhaps for the first time in his life, lost his temper. "Rape?" he demanded with wrathful incredulity, suddenly looming up over her like an avenging god. "I'll show you rape, my dear."

  His mouth came down with hungry brutality on hers and he took her with few preliminaries, his body mating fiercely with hers. Savanna fought him, but it was no use, and while there was no pain, there was little pleasure, either, in this hostile taking and she endured his possession. It was over quickly, Adam rolling away from her as soon as he was finished.

  Aghast and disgusted with himself, he leaped upright and with his back to her, as if he were ashamed to look at her, he jerked on his breeches. Despite the sick fury in his soul, he could not bring himself to comfort her or attempt to apologize for what he had done and, his voice cold, he said, "That, sweetheart, was rape. I'm sure in the future you'll be able to tell the difference."

  Blind rage shook Savanna and she was hardly aware of what she was doing as her fingers curled around a tree branch lying on the ground near her. Rising up from the grass like a feral tigress springing after her prey, she swung the branch with all her might, striking Adam a blow to the back of his head. With a groan, he slumped to the ground in front of her. Paralyzed with astonishment, she stared dumbly at his fallen body, hardly able to believe what she had done.

  Her paralysis lasted only a moment, and acting on instinct, heedless of her nakedness, in a matter of seconds she had him securely bound. Satisfied that he would be helpless upon regaining his wits, sitting on her haunches beside him, she studied him for a timeless moment, surprised to find that despite what had happened, she could still find him attractive. Against her will, her gaze traced those arrogantly handsome features, his lashes incredibly long and dark against his high cheekbones, his nose bold and well-shaped, before lingering on the sensuous fullness of his lower lip....

  She tore her eyes away from him and rose determinedly to her feet, pulling on the hotly contested breeches and shirt he had tossed at her what seemed like hours ago. Finding the boots, she dragged them on and then, with a wary glance in his direction, moved with feverish haste about their camp, scrupulously dividing all their supplies, packing what she would take with her, not letting herself feel or think at all.

  Savanna hadn't considered what she was doing, the instinct to escape, to put as many miles between herself and the man on the ground, the driving force behind her actions. When she was ready, seated on her horse, she stared down at Adam's unmoving form, her expression uneasy. Shouldn't he be stirring by now? She had tied his hands in front of him and had left the knife nearby so that, when he came to, he should be able to free himself—, she didn't want to leave him to die, even if was what he deserved, she thought savagely. She had left him the other horse and a fair amount of their food—she should have no regrets about leaving him. He was a murderer and—her mouth tightened—he had treated her despicably—she should have no compunction about leaving him, should experience no heaviness of spirit, should have no feelings for him except hatred and disgust. Except that even as she swung her horse around and left Adam lying there still and oddly vulnerable on the ground, she was painfully aware of a strong sensation of despair and regret, almost as if her heart were breaking....

  Chapter 10

  For several miles, Savanna rode blindly, her thoughts, much against her will, dwelling on the man she had left lying helpless by the deceptively tranquil waters of that forest pond. What if an alligator attacked him? Or, she thought with a shudder, a water moccasin? Or even some wild beast. Remembering the way Adam had rushed to save her from the snakes earlier, Savanna was smitten by a wave of guilt. He had saved her life and she had left him vulnerable to the very fate that he had helped her escape. Feeling guilty and miserable, she tried to justify her actions.

  It was, she knew, unlikely for either a gator or a snake to attack him where he lay, but the possibility of attack by other, equally deadly predators couldn't be dismissed. She told herself that she didn't care, that he would deserve whatever grisly fate awaited him, and forced herself to dismiss him from her mind. She had other, more important things to think about than the man who had killed her father and raped her.

  She pulled her horse to a stop and looked around her in dismay. There was nothing to see but endless forest, mottled tree trunks, green-hued rampant vines and verdant bushes. She sat there for some time, her mind racing furiously. She was not an inadequate woodsman, but the idea of leading herself out of this maze was daunting. Then she shrugged. All she had to do was keep riding in a southeasterly direction and sooner or later she would come to a recognizable landmark—even if she didn't see anything familiar until she reached the Mississippi River.

  It was then that she realized that she had abandoned any notion of seeking the Aztec gold. Savanna had never hungered after riches in the first place, and although it would have been pleasant to shower Elizabeth with all the elegancies of life if the gold had been found, she and her mother would be fine without it. Besides, she admitted ruefully, without a map or someone to guide her to it, finding the gold would be a hopeless task. No amount of gold in the world was worth the danger she would face if she were insane enough to continue on the fool's quest that had ultimately killed her father. Rejoining Micajah was not an option, and it was only now that she was free that she realized how incredibly lucky she had been that Micajah hadn't used her far more badly than what she had just suffered at Adam's hands. She tried to tell herself that she'd been horribly abused by Adam, but didn't quite ring true. If she dwelt on that final, angry taking, she could convince herself that Adam was no better than Micajah; unfortunately, her mind wouldn't let her forget that first, wondrous joining and the powerful attraction he aroused within her.

  Angry that thoughts of Adam had entered her mind again, she kicked her horse into movement. She was going home. She wasn't going to allow herself to think about anything that had happened to her since the first moment she had looked up into Micajah's grinning face. She might have allowed herself to be convinced that she had a right to the gold; she might even have allowed herself to think that it was only right and just to kidnap and force the man who had killed her father to lead them to the gold, but no longer. The gold didn't mean anything to her, and she would content herself with the knowledge that in the end, Davalos had shown his real feelings—that he had truly loved her and her mother. As for Micajah's threats to spread the truth about Elizabeth's true circumstances... Savanna's eyes narrowed. She wasn't certain how she was going to do it, but between now and the next time she saw Micajah, if she ever saw Micajah again, she would think of something—she had to, if her mother's respectable life was to continue. With that decision made, she felt her heart lighten. She would go home, pick up the threads of her life and forget that she had ever laid eyes on a blue-eyed devil named Adam.

  Which was easier said than done, Savanna decided disgustedly as the memory of him lying inert a
nd half naked on the forest floor slipped through her mind again. She should have made certain that he had come to his senses before she left him. She still could have escaped—it would take him some time to fight free of his bonds, and she didn't believe that he would trouble himself to come after her. He would no doubt go back to Terre du Coeur and never give her another thought. The fact that he would be going back to a wife and family suddenly occurred to her, and she was bewildered by the knife-pain in her heart such knowledge gave her.

  The fact that he was married was something she had forgotten, but now, in view of what had transpired between them, she was painfully aware of it and she closed her eyes in anguish. How could she have forgotten who he was and what he was and allowed herself to have been so shamelessly fascinated by him? How could she have been willing, when all was said and done, to lie in his arms and allow him the freedoms which no man had ever had from her? She cared nothing for him. She hated him! Thoroughly ashamed that she had felt such pleasure in his embrace, disgusted that she allowed herself to be beguiled by a man so unworthy of her, Savanna stared dully between the ears of her horse, wishing she had never laid eyes on him.

  Well, my girl, she finally told herself firmly, stop dwelling on it; put it behind you and think about how you're going to find your way home. Her rousing little speech worked for a while, and she concentrated on where she was going and considered various means to supplement her meager supplies, but insidiously, images of Adam's still form kept darting in and out of her thoughts. What if he couldn't escape those bonds and starved to death? If some wild animal didn't discover him first. Suppose Micajah found him? Micajah would torture him to death.

  Cursing, Savanna gave up resisting the urge to leave him to his justly deserved fate, whatever it might be, and turned her horse around. She would have to go back, make certain that he had regained his wits, and she wouldn't think at all how she would feel if he hadn't; if he were awake, she would have to figure out some sort of plan that would allow her to leave, confident that he could free himself and wouldn't be hot on her trail. She wanted him, she told herself savagely, out of her life, not dead.