She nodded eagerly, and before he could give her further instructions, she went underwater. When Breanna kicked her feet, she lunged forward feeling a surge of accomplishment. She giggled to herself, knowing how a fish must feel. When the water became too shallow for her to swim, she stood up and glanced back at Dakota.
"You did it," he called out. "You learn quickly. Now swim back to me."
Warmed by his praise, she dove under water and paddled toward him. Now she was able to raise her face out of the water. When she reached Dakota, she was so overcome with joy that she jumped up and threw herself into his arms. I did it! I can swim!" she cried.
His laughter was warm against her cheek as he drew her tighter against him. "Yes, you did it. If you aren't careful, someone will mistake you for a mermaid."
She tossed back her wet hair and smiled up at him. Suddenly their eyes locked, and she no longer thought about her accomplishments. She became aware of the hard muscles that were pressed against her and the way his eyes drew all the strength from her body, making her feel like a limp rag. Surely if he had not been supporting her, she would have sunk to the bottom of the ocean.
Primitive feelings of ownership shook Dakota. He held the world in his arms and the law said she belonged to him. Dare he take her? He could easily break down her defenses—she was ripe and so ready for a man to love, her eyes told him that. Shaken by a feeling of protectiveness, he crushed her against his body, molding her curves so they fit against his hard frame. Breathless with wanting and needing her, he ran his hand down her back, pressing her tighter against him.
Breanna felt Dakota's warm breath against her cheek and she arched her neck back, as new and unexplored feelings moved through her body like waves advancing on the shore. The moon and stars merged with the silvery water of the sea and she wasn't sure which way was up, and which was down. Shaken to the very core of her being, she felt his lips move down her arched neck to plant feathery kisses in the hollow of her shoulders.
A whimper escaped her lips when he moved her wet nightgown aside and pressed soft kisses on the tips of her exposed breasts. Her hand slid through his ebony hair and she arched to get closer to the heat of his body. Yes, his body was promising her fulfillment and oneness. She ached to be possessed by him completely.
Breanna had not been aware that Dakota was carrying them both toward the shore until he walked out of the water with her in his arms. Blinded by starlight, she felt him lay her on his shirt that he had earlier thrown on the sand. As he hovered above her, water from his wet hair dripped onto her face and she tasted the saltiness on her tongue. His eyes were asking her a question and her body was begging to respond.
Dakota's hand trembled as he pushed her gown off her shoulders. "Breanna, I gave my word I would not take you against your will. Are you willing now?" he asked in a tight whisper.
"I . . . I . . . surely not here!" Her throat was dry, and she was having difficulty breathing.
With a smile of understanding, he traced a pattern down her neck, across her shoulder to circle a throbbing breast. "There is no one about save the two of us, Breanna. All the servants left hours ago." Shivers of delight danced across her skin when he moved his finger around her nipple.
"Breanna," he murmured, stirred by her sweetness. "Breanna . . ."
Caught up in earth-shattering emotions, she moved forward and clasped her hands behind his neck. With the offer of her parted lips, she felt his mouth touch hers, while her body exploded with urgent needs.
Dakota lips were soft and firm, and his hands moved along her leg and thigh, pushing her wet gown upward. When he pulled away from her to lift her gown over her head, she watched his eyes darken with desire as he stared at her nakedness.
His green eyes reflected the moon as they moved over her body, taking in the long legs, the rounded hips, the tiny waist. Breanna felt no shame as she saw appreciation in his glance.
He watched her firm young breasts sway with her every movement. This time when he lowered his head, his lips parted and he took the rosy tip in his mouth.
"No, Dakota, no," she whispered, beginning to be frightened, not of him, but of the wild abandoned feelings she was experiencing.
Dakota immediately released her and sat up. Taking a deep steadying breath, he wrapped his shirt around her and helped her stand. "I am sorry, Breanna. It would appear I got carried away by my little mermaid."
She stared into his eyes, wishing she could explain how she felt, but unable to reason out her feelings even to herself. "I should go in now," she said in a trembling voice, not really wanting to leave him but needing to be alone to think about what had happened to her tonight.
Dakota tried to beat back his passion and stepped back from her. He stooped to pick up her wet gown and held it out to her.
She had thought he might be angry with her, but he looked at her with a half-smile. "I gather from your reaction to me that you have never before been with a man, Breanna."
"Of course I haven't. You should know that."
"I thought not, but as I told you before, I am unfamiliar with your English customs." He was gladdened by her words because he would be the first with her. Oh, he would have her, he knew that now. Nothing could stop this aching hunger in his body but her.
He realized it would be easy to overcome Her resistance tonight, but the time was wrong. He would not take her in the sand. He would wait until she was driven out of her mind by desire as he was. Their coming together would be like an explosion, and neither of them would have any doubts or hesitations.
Holding her dripping gown in her hands, and trying to look dignified with nothing but his shirt draped about her, Breanna had an answer for him. "Surely you did not think that your grandfather had chosen a woman of soiled reputation to be your wife?"
He turned her toward the house, and as they walked along, he tried to clear his mind. "I had hoped not, but I couldn't be sure until tonight."
She stopped, glancing at him questioningly. "Would it have mattered to you if I had been . . . ?"
"Soiled?" he supplied. "Yes, and no. I would not have abandoned you had you been with another man, but I must confess that I will be honored to be the first to be with you."
Her legs went weak at his sensuous words, and she clung to his arm. She watched the moon trace patterns across his face, and Breanna knew she had to ask the question that was on her mind. "Have you ever loved a woman, Dakota?"
He thought before he answered. "I told you that I would answer all your questions, so you must not be offended by the answers, since the questions are yours.
If you are asking if I have been with a woman, the answer is, of course. But if you are asking if my heart has been engaged, I have to answer that I am not sure what love between a man and a woman feels like. I will tell you that I have not been with a woman since I became your husband."
Breanna didn't want to think about him holding another woman the way he had held her tonight. To keep her hands from trembling, she pulled the shirt across her breasts. Warm color stained her cheeks when she discovered he was watching her with amusement dancing in his eyes.
"Do not distress yourself, Breanna. You have done nothing wrong."
She had the strangest urge to bury her face against his wide chest and have him hold her until her tilted world righted itself. "I know I am your wife, and I am aware of what is expected of me, but I . . . I . . ."
"Do not torment yourself, Breanna. Remember, we struck a bargain, and you have my word that I shall honor that bargain."
As he helped her up the path, she stopped on the edge of the cliff and asked him the question that had bothered her since she discovered he was her husband. "I have not stopped wondering why you did not tell me you were my husband that first afternoon we met?"
He smiled and pushed a damp curl from her forehead. "You said some very unflattering things about your husband that afternoon. I would have been a fool to admit I was he."
A smile lit her eyes. "Yes, I was dreadful,
and I hope you have forgiven me for my blunder"
He raised her hand to his lips and placed a warm kiss there. "You are forgiven, my lady."
They continued on to the lodge, and when they reached the front steps, Breanna hesitated again, unwilling to end their conversation. "Were you surprised to find that I was your wife?"
He laughed aloud, remembering the image he'd had of his wife. "I can say in all honesty that I was overcome with immediate relief when I discovered you were my wife. I had pictured you quite differently."
"Had you?"
"Yes, I can assure you that I had."
He reached around her and opened the door. "After you, my lady wife."
She moved inside, not wanting to go to her room but knowing it was expected of her. "Shall I see you in the morning, Dakota?"
"It's already morning. You swam the night away, Breanna."
"Yes, I suppose I did."
"If you like, we will go riding, say about seven? We can pack a lunch to take along with us."
Excitement laced her words. "Oh, yes. I would like that very much."
He steered her to her bedroom door and opened it for her. "Try to get some sleep. I will see that you are awakened in plenty of time to get ready for our adventure."
Breanna entered her room and closed the door behind her. Leaning against the door, she smiled happily. She wondered if there had ever been a man such as Dakota. He was everything she had ever dreamed of in a husband, and more. She lay on the bed, wrapped in his shirt because she was reluctant to part with it, feeling his nearness in every part of her body.
"Dakota," she whispered, "I know what love feels like, because I believe I love you!"
16
Breanna rode through the thundering waves, her pulse racing, her heart pounding, her red-gold hair flying in the wind.
Dakota pulled up his mount and watched her from a distance. He had never seen a more beautiful sight. There were so many sides to Breanna. He had seen the innocent child, the reluctant wife, and now a bewitching siren.
Nudging his horse in the flanks, he shot forward to join her. For several moments they rode along the shoreline until they came to a cliff that jutted out into the ocean, blocking their forward progress.
Breanna smiled at Dakota. "It would seem our excursion is at an end.0
"If we can't go forward, we will go back. How would you like to explore those caves we saw just beyond the bend?"
"Oh, could we?"
"Yes, but only if we do not venture too far into the interior, and we must retreat before high tide. John told me that people have drowned in those caves."
"We still have several hours until high tide," Breanna reminded him.
He could read the eagerness in her eyes and smiled to himself as they galloped back the way they had come.
Breanna slid from her horse and ran to the mouth of the cavern while Dakota secured their horses.
He took her hand and ushered her inside. They had to step from stone to stone so they wouldn't get their feet wet. Like shining crystal chandeliers, the icicle-shaped stalactites caught the light and shot out brilliant rainbow colors on the cave wall. Several shallow ponds had been formed in the limestone and she could see tiny minnows swimming about.
"This is magnificent," Breanna declared, turning around in a circle. "I have never seen anything like this, have you?"
"I have been in mountain caves, but nothing like these caverns. However, I have read books that tell of such wonders as this."
She sat down on a limestone rock, pondering his words. "It would seem that you have read books on almost every subject"
He dropped down beside her, his clear gaze probing her eyes. "I hope that does not make me a bore."
Breanna picked up a smooth pebble and skipped it across the pond. "I have not found you to be a bore, Dakota. In fact, I find you—" Her face reddened.
"Yes" he said, smiling.
"Was . . . was it very confusing for you having two sets of parents?" she stammered, changing the subject abruptly.
He smiled. "You cannot imagine. But you must understand that I always wanted to be an Arapaho. There was a time when I rebelled against everything that reminded me that I was white."
"Was there an Indian girl you were interested in?"
Long lashes swept over his eyes, and she sensed a hesitation in him. "Yes. Her name was Running Deer. She died in my arms, killed by my Indian brother, Black Otter."
She saw pain in his eyes as he spoke about a tragedy such as she could only imagine. "How awful for you. Did you love her very much?" She dreaded hearing his answer, but she had to know.
"Love wears many different faces, Breanna. There is the love you had for your parents, your brother and his family. There is the love I hope you will have for your husband, and eventually your children. I have always found it difficult to measure love. The Arapaho have a saying. You can fill a jug with love — give a handful to this person —a handful to that person and two handfuls to someone else. Yet when you gaze into the jug, you will find it is still full to the brim with love."
She thought about what he said, realizing he had not answered her at all. She still had no idea how he had felt about Running Deer. Did he suffer because his love had been killed? Did he still grieve because she died in his arms? Breanna wished she had never asked him about the Indian girl, because now she would always wonder if she had to compete with the ghost of a lost love.
"What became of Black Otter?" she asked, moving on to what she thought would be a less painful subject.
"Black Otter was put to death for his crime. You see, Running Deer was the daughter of the chief of my tribe, and she was well loved by all."
"Look," Breanna said, standing up suddenly, not wanting to hear any more about Running Deer. "I believe the tide is rising."
Dakota came to his feet and took Breanna's hand. "Come, it is time for us to leave. In another hour, this cave will be filled with water."
The water was ankle deep by the time Breanna stepped out into the bright sunlight. She moved over to Joya and patted the white mare. "We have not eaten our lunch, Dakota. I have had such a wonderful time that I did not realize it was well after the noon hour."
"Have you enjoyed yourself?"
"Yes, very much."
"How would you like to ride into the village after we have eaten?"
"I would love it."
While they ate, Breanna told Dakota about her life at Kenton. She did not hesitate to explain about her brother's gambling or how he had lost the family fortune.
Dakota's back was braced against a big boulder. "I am told that I have more money and holdings than a family could spend in three generations. Would it please you if I gave your brother enough money so he and his family could live comfortably?"
Breanna was wiping her mouth on a soft white napkin. "No! That is the one thing you must not do. If Fielding is ever to learn a lesson, he must not have things made easy for him."
"Your reasoning is sound. But if the time should come when you wish to help your brother, you have only to ask it of me."
Breanna felt her heart swell with love for this man. He was so caring and thoughtful of others; she only hoped she would one day be worthy to be his wife.
She watched Dakota gain his feet with the agility of a feline. As he flexed his muscles, Breanna felt hot and cold at the same time. Here was a man of sensitivity, yet she knew that he was only a hair's breadth away from reverting to his primitive instincts. She had the feeling that if you took away his gentlemanly garments, his manner would change, and Dakota would become as untamed as the wild land where he had been born, and as fierce and unpredictable as the Indian tribe that had fostered him into manhood.
Dakota offered Breanna his hand and pulled her to her feet. "Shall we ride into the village now?" , "Yes, I'd like that," she said, almost sorry that she would now have to share him with others. She was fascinated by this man. She could listen to him talk all day. She thanked the lucky star that h
ad cast her in the role of Dakota Remington's wife.
***
Breanna could feel the turmoil in the very air she breathed as they entered the small fishing village of Weatherford. At first the only sound that could be heard was their horses' hooves clattering on the cobblestone streets. Old salts stopped mending their nets, women and children came out of their houses, silently staring at Dakota and Breanna.
She was astonished that the whole village was soon following along behind them, but there were no smiles on the villagers' faces.
Breanna and Dakota halted their mounts in front of an old Norman church with its gray steeples and six bell towers. When Dakota helped Breanna to the ground, the crowd closed in around them.
One man, bolder than the others, stepped forward. "Be you the new lord and lady up at the big house?" He spoke in a heavy accent, his dark eyes searching and suspicious.
"Yes," Dakota answered. "I am the Viscount of Remington and this is my Viscountess."
"We heard you was here, my lord. The village's been too long without guidance. We got trouble, and we was wondering if you plan to do anything about it?"
Dakota stared at the man. "What kind of trouble? Tell me what it is, so 111 know if I can help."
The man's lip curled. "That's what your grandfather always said, and he didn't do nothing for us. He hasn't even been here in over ten years"
"Tell me about your trouble," Dakota said again.
"Well it's from the village of Saffron down the way. Since we had no lord to take our part, the Saffron fishermen and their lord forced us out of our private fishing waters and the magistrate won't hear our grievances. Some of our villagers have even been killed trying to get back what belongs to us."
Dakota moved closer to the fisherman and was soon the center of twenty-odd men, while the women moved around Breanna, their bold glances hostile and cold.
Breanna noticed the gaunt faces of the children, the suspicion on the women's faces, and the hostility in the men's eyes.
One of the women, who was wearing a sober black gown, unrelieved except for a narrow white collar, spoke up boldly. "I'm Mary Ouster, the vicar's wife. You aren't from around these parts, are you, my lady?"
Dakota Dreams (Historical Romance) Page 15
