Dragon Fire

by Linda Ladd

  Stone fought an overpowering desire to reach out and pull her back into his arms. He knew that would be a mistake. Her time of meditation was important to her, so he lay back against the pillows, placing his hands behind his head while he watched her. He could be patient; God knew she was worth waiting for.

  His gaze wandered over her face and body; as always he was caught spellbound by her exquisite beauty. Her Chinese robe covered her, but the front had been left untied, providing him with a veiled glimpse of one curving breast. He drank in her loveliness, vividly aware of how sweet she smelled, of how good she had felt locked in his embrace. The mental images he was harboring were enough to make his loins ache with the need for her.

  Never in his life had he been so consumed with such passion for a woman. Never had he felt the kind of pleasure Windsor was able to arouse in him. Once she had made her decision, she had shared herself eagerly, wanting all he had to give, giving herself to him without shame or regret.

  Suddenly he craved her again, fiercely, wildly, hopelessly. He wanted to press deep into her, bury himself forever in her soft, fragrant flesh. No longer willing to stop himself, he reached out and placed his palm on her knee, then slowly slid it up the inside of her naked thigh.

  Windsor's eyes fluttered open. She stared blankly at him for a moment, as if she were not truly awake yet. Then the spark seemed to reenter her eyes as she returned from a faraway, mysterious journey, coming alive once more right before his eyes. She smiled at him, and Stone's heart lurched when she unfolded her legs and came eagerly to lie atop him.

  "I missed having you in my arms," he whispered, stroking his palm down the length of her blond hair.

  "I had need to search my inner self," she murmured, wrapping both arms around his neck and pressing her lips into his ear.

  "And did you?" Stone put his hands on her waist, lifting her until he could nuzzle inside her open robe and caress the base of her throat with his tongue. He smiled when he felt her pulse jump, then accelerate madly beneath his mouth.

  "Yes," she breathed, shivering from what his roaming hands were doing to her.

  "And?"

  "And my heart is happy. I looked deep into my soul where one sees oneself very clearly. We are truly meant to be one, just as I felt from the first moment I looked into your silver-blue eyes." She paused breathlessly to enjoy the moment his mouth closed over the tautened tip of her breast. "But I didn't know it would be as wonderful as this."

  Stone stroked her back, their lips mingling gently, softly, then gradually becoming an urgent quest for much more. Passion igniting, he rolled with her, capturing her body beneath him. He stared down into the dark blue depths of her eyes, now smoky with desire, and he knew he loved her. Despite his every intention not to become involved with her, he had grown to love her more than any man should let himself love a woman.

  Windsor's gaze seemed to draw him, body and soul, into her spirit, "Make my heart sing with joy, Stone Kincaid," she whispered, sliding her fingers down the hard muscles of his chest, pushing him over onto his back. "Teach me more about this wondrous thing called love." Stone's breath caught as she suddenly sat astraddle him, her hair falling forward over his face as she pressed warm lips into the hollow of his collarbone.

  "You're doing all right at the moment—" he managed, his voice hoarsening as she leaned forward, teasing him by barely brushing his chest with her naked breasts.

  "A novice at the first attempt, an adept at the second. The Old One taught that as well—"

  "Well, my love, you're proving yourself more than adept," Stone muttered, pulling her head down until their lips came together fiercely, possessively, making no other words between them necessary.

  Several hours later, Windsor opened her eyes and gazed sleepily at the candlestand at the end of the bed. The long taper had burned nearly to the base. She lay on her side; Stone Kincaid pressed close behind her, his right arm beneath her cheek, the other holding her around the waist. The long, hard length of him felt nice against her back. She snuggled deeper into his embrace, wanting even more intimacy. His fingers, loosely tangled in her hair, tightened and pulled back her head as his lips sought the base of her neck.

  "I want you again," he mumbled against her shoulder. "I don't think I'll ever stop wanting you."

  Windsor closed her eyes as his hand slid up over her naked flesh to cup her breast. She sighed, her body growing aroused and hot, and she wet her dry lips, trembling as his palm slid downward over the smooth flat plane of her bare stomach, then lower still, fondling her until she pressed against him and moaned with helpless surrender.

  Filled with a need that burned like a flame in her core, she turned quickly in the circle of his arms, overwhelmed to think that such intense pleasure could be sustained for so long, time and again, the mere touch of his hand inflaming her body until she lost control of her own desires. Overcome with the need to join with him, to have him inside her, she groaned and pressed her palms against the sides of his face, seeking his mouth in a frenzied attempt to communicate her feelings of wonder.

  A similar sound came from deep inside his throat, and he gripped the sides of her head with equal passion, his tongue thrusting into her mouth, then out again, in a courtship dance similar to the one she craved their bodies to share.

  "Oh, God, Windsor, I don't think I can ever let go of you again," he said, pushing her onto her back, and Windsor savored the words he uttered so desperately, their limbs entwined, their hearts beating wildly, their bodies joined yet again as they soared into the heavens and rode the dragon of destiny.

  The next morning dawned bright and clear. When a bar of sunlight crept through the opened draperies to fall upon Stone's face, he opened his eyes. Windsor was already up, standing in the middle of the room. Still naked, she was practicing the slow, deliberate moves of her fighting skills. He sat up and smiled at her.

  "You look very pleased with yourself, Stone Kincaid," she observed, slowly raising one leg, then pivoting and kicking out in slow motion, her arms held in a controlled posture of self-defense.

  "No, I'm pleased with you," he disagreed, not exactly unaffected by the sight of her nude body performing the sensual movements. Every motion was graceful, lithe, and agile, but he well knew how lethal she could be.

  "You had better quit doing that, or I'll have to have you all over again."

  "I perform these positions every day for mental and physical strength."

  "I'll teach you new positions."

  "You already have." She turned, one arm straight out, the other bent, her left knee lifted high in front of her body, giving Stone a view he had once been willing to pay a sultan's ransom to have unveiled.

  "I'm warning you, Windsor," he said, already hard with arousal. He rose from the bed. "I think I might want you again, right now."

  She laughed, then spun around and performed a graceful kick, but Stone caught her and pulled her against him.

  "Come back to bed. It's too early to get up."

  "I am not finished with my exercises."

  "Yes, you are."

  Despite her objection, she turned in his arms, and he took her down on the bed with him, lying atop her and staring down into her smiling face. Again he realized how much he cared for her, with some misgiving as to just how vulnerable that made him. Always before, he had had no one but himself to consider, no one to claim his time or his heart, but now he would always have Windsor to care about and protect.

  "Stay here when I go after Clan, Windsor," he whispered, holding her face between his hands so that she would listen. "I want you somewhere safe, where you won't get hurt."

  "We are meant to go together. You must know that by now."

  Stone shook his head. "Listen to me—"

  "If you leave without me, I will follow."

  Windsor's eyes looked into his, tranquil and knowing, and Stone sighed in defeat, well aware that she'd do just what she promised. Tenderly, he brushed back a silken lock of hair from her temples, not sure
he could leave her anyway.

  "If I let you come along, you'll have to promise to do exactly what I say, you hear me? I know Clan better than you do. I know what he's capable of. I make the decisions, is that clear?"

  "When two partners are of one mind," she murmured with a sweet smile, "clay is into gold refined."

  "Stop spouting your Chinese proverbs, dammit. I want your word on this."

  "I will abide by your decisions because I love you."

  Stone smiled in triumph. "Now we're getting somewhere."

  "I am tired of conversing. I want to make love."

  Stone laughed. "You're sure as hell not a novice anymore. What are you trying to do? Wear me out?"

  "There is evidence that you are not worn out."

  A gasp was torn from Stone as she reached out and proved her point.

  "Will every night be like this one, Stone Kincaid?" she asked, smiling up at him. "Is it an acceptable custom to make love so many times?"

  Stone gazed down into her eyes, then lowered his mouth to brush her parted lips. "Yeah, every night I spend with you will probably be just like this."

  "That is very good," she murmured, before her whisper was subjugated by the eager warmth of his kiss.

  17

  From where Sun-On-Wings hunkered down atop the veranda wall at the back of Amelia Cox's home, he had a splendid view of the shining blue waters of San Francisco Bay. His black eyes were riveted on the vast inlet dotted with sailing ships and the great steam-driven vessels that left clouds of smoke hanging over the surface. Low mountains, their barren slopes shadowed to royal blue, rose around the shores, reminding him of his mountain home. Except that the majestic peaks around his village would be white with snow and ice, and the Little Ones would be snug before their lodge fires, wrapped in warm buffalo robes while they listened to the old men recite the legends of their people.

  Nostalgic longings swept over him, tightening around his heart like the wet leather strips with which he wrapped his lance to give it strength. He had wanted to leave his people, to travel to Yellow-Haired-Warrior-Woman's land, to witness her strong medicine and wondrous way of fighting. But now he only yearned to return to the quiet village and his relatives of the Sky Clan. He missed his grandfather the most, but he also hungered to see his best friend, Flat-Nose. He missed the excitement of the buffalo hunt and the honor of being the youngest scout in the war party. He missed the eerie strains of the Dawn Chant when many voices echoed out over the clear cold waters of the lake.

  Living with the white man was more difficult than he had expected. He had seen many marvels in his journey to be a nun. He had bathed in pots of warm water and slept on high soft racks, but more than anything else, he was astounded by the numbers of white men he had seen walking the land.

  Here, in the great village of Yellow-Haired-Warrior-Woman's mother, his eyes had seen more people with white skin than he had ever thought existed. They lived and worked with no hardships to overcome, no need to gather food or protect their lands from enemies. Why, had he not witnessed food being brought along the street in wagons so that people had only to go outside and barter their round coins for it! Even now, outside the high wall, he could hear a woman calling that she had eggs and milk in her basket for any who needed them!

  White-Spotted-Wolf and the other warriors would never dream of the strength of their greatest enemy, the white man. Just as Sun-On-Wings had done, the Little Ones would stare, their tongues struck dumb, to see the night turned into day by strange lamps that burned without bear fat and great stone houses that rose into the sky like the mighty yellow aspens. The magic of the white man frightened even him, Sun-On-Wings, a fierce warrior. How could the Little Ones fight such a powerful foe? He should return to the mountains and warn them of all he had seen, he thought, but he knew he would not.

  More than anything, he wanted to stay near Yellow-Haired-Warrior-Woman. He longed for her to love him in the way he loved her. She was so strange and different from anyone else he had ever known. But in his heart he knew she cared not for him. Although her tongue told him that she did not wish to have her own man, her eyes followed Arrow-Parts-Hair everywhere he went.

  Sun-On-Wings shifted as Jun-li knocked over the bowl of oranges between them. He watched dispassionately as the strange round fruit rolled off the wall and fell to the ground. Despite his own feelings for Yellow-Haired-Warrior-Woman, Sun-On-Wings could not lay blame upon her for wanting the big white warrior. Arrow-Parts-Hair was strong and brave. He had proved his courage many times. He had saved Sun-On-Wings from the claws of the great grizzly.

  Last night he had heard Arrow-Parts-Hair pass his room and enter Yellow-Haired-Warrior-Woman's door. All through the night he had listened and waited for him to leave, but he had not. They had been together, even after Grandfather Sun had risen over the distant hills and called Sun-On-Wings to prayer. He felt lonely because he was by himself while his two friends were together.

  A slight sound broke into his melancholy thoughts. As he did when stalking elk, he turned only his head to listen. Below him at the turn of the garden trail a girl came into sight. He recognized her as the Mexican woman whom Arrow-Parts-Hair had brought back with him, the one he had called Nina. She carried her baby as she had the night before.

  Sun-On-Wings remained motionless as she strolled slowly past below his perch. She did not see him, because she stared at the ground as she walked, as if lost in her own troubles. While he watched, her child began to cry, a thin, muffled wail. Beside him, Jun-li cocked his head with interest, and before Sun-On-Wings could react, the mischievous capuchin had wrapped his tail around a branch and dropped down unexpectedly right in front of the girl. Nina screamed in fright and backed away, clutching her child tightly to her breast.

  Wishing to calm her fears, Sun-On-Wings leapt soundlessly to the ground just behind her. "Jun-li no hurt Nina."

  Nina swung around, and Sun-On-Wings was startled at the terror so evident in her eyes.

  "Don't come any closer!" she cried, her voice high and shrill.

  Sun-On-Wings looked at the black revolver that had suddenly appeared in her hand. Where had the white man's weapon come from? Her hand was shaking so much, the barrel waved back and forth, but it was aimed at his stomach. Battle-hardened warrior though he was, Sun-On-Wings did not know what to do when facing an armed white woman with a baby.

  "Nina, don't. Put my gun down. He's not going to hurt you."

  Sun-On-Wings was very relieved to hear Arrow-Parts-Hair's voice. His words had been uttered very low and soothingly, and Sun-On-Wings stood unmoving, waiting for the fear and indecision to leave the girl's large brown eyes.

  "Sun-On-Wings is my friend, Nina." Arrow-Parts-Hair had now moved up beside Sun-On-Wings. "He's an Osage warrior, but he would never hurt you or Carlos. Clan didn't send him here to get you. He's going to help us find Clan."

  Sun-On-Wings watched Arrow-Parts-Hair inch closer to the girl, then reach out quickly and take the revolver from her hand. "It's all right, Nina," he said, sliding it into his holster and putting his arm around her shoulders, "I know you took the gun out of my room because you're so scared. But you're safe here. We're all your friends. We want to help you."

  Nina didn't answer, hugging her baby close to her face, shutting her eyes, and making a low moan that sounded like a sick coyote. Nina was very weak and full of fears. Sun-On-Wings felt much pity for her as he followed her and Arrow-Parts-Hair toward the house.

  Inside the front parlor, Windsor glanced around to see if anyone was there. When she found herself alone, she fingered one of the fragile white angels lying on the tray of ornaments her mother had left upon the center table. Vaguely, in the murky depths of childhood memories, she recalled another such trinket and how gently she had stroked its gossamer wings with the tip of her finger.

  That memory brought another, the way Stone Kincaid had caressed her bare skin, with both his fingers and his lips. She could almost feel the sensations again, could feel herself becoming
hot and eager with never-ending chills rippling along her flesh from one end of her body to the other. Her mouth dried as she relived the intimacy they had shared, and she moistened her lips with the tip of her tongue, amazed that the mere thought of Stone Kincaid could bring alive the erotic tingling deep inside her woman's core.

  Windsor closed her eyes, desiring to he down with him again, to have him become a part of her, to feel him press his mouth on hers and whisper tender words. Physical love was a precious, wondrous thing that one wanted to experience over and over again. No wonder the Old One had warned her that it might distract her in her pursuit of higher wisdom.

  "Windsor, come and let me introduce you to Nina."

  Windsor turned as Stone led the brown-haired girl into the room. Sun-On-Wings followed close behind them, Jun-li riding on his forearm. A blush rose in a dark stain in Windsor's cheeks when Stone smiled at her. The tickling sensations stirred afresh inside her loins, and she looked away from him and let her attention fall on the Mexican girl.

  "Hello, Nina. I am Windsor."

  The night before, Windsor had not realized how young Nina was. Probably even younger than Sun-On-Wings. Her eyes were widespread and timid, and Windsor could see the haunted expression that hovered in them. Nina didn't look like the kind of woman Windsor would have expected the Evil One to choose. And she didn't look old enough to have borne a baby.

  The girl kept looking from one of them to the other, as if she were scared. Stone led her to a royal-blue-and-white figured wing chair near the fireplace. He motioned Windsor to an identical seat across from her. Windsor sat down, while Sun-On-Wings stood nearby, feet braced apart, arms folded across his chest. The Indian said nothing, but Windsor noticed that he never took his eyes off Nina.