LeClerc 01 - Autumn Ecstasy (13 page)

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Authors: Pamela K Forrest

BOOK: LeClerc 01 - Autumn Ecstasy
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Carefully setting the brush and comb on the table, Linsey walked to the bed and laid a hand against his cheek. His skin was cool.

When she touched him, Bear had to bite back another moan, his hand clenching and unclenching the fur beneath it. His body felt out of control, his thoughts only on satisfying the need his body demanded.

“Are you in pain?” Linsey watched his hand open and close on the fur. She lightly ran her hand down his buckskin-covered back. “Can I help?”

Bear’s knuckles turned white from the force of his grip. He wanted to laugh — or cry — with frustration. She was the only one who could help, but he knew she’d be horrified and frightened if he were to tell her exactly what kind of help he needed.

Since Snow’s death almost five years before, Bear had been celibate. It was by choice that he took no other woman to his bed. He had loved his gentle wife and had met no other woman who made his blood burn with desire … until now.

“I’m tired of being in this bed.” He forced his hand to ease its hold and rolled over, sitting up. He rested his elbows on his knees and supported his head in his hands.

Linsey understood his restlessness. Her father had been a terrible patient the few times she could remember him being sick. After a couple of days in bed, he became extremely irritable, complaining about the simplest thing.

“I need to start dinner.” Linsey stood and nonchalantly smoothed her dress, repressing a smile at the nearly muffled moan from him. “Why don’t you come sit at the table? Maybe you can make some suggestions that will improve my cooking.”

Bear watched her walk away and shuddered. He’d do more than make suggestions. He’d watch like a hawk surveying its dinner and make sure of each ingredient she put into the pot. His tongue nearly curled at the remembered taste of her last attempt.

An hour later a large kettle boiled, filled with carrots and potatoes. Bear sat at the table, carefully sharpening his knife.

“Do you have any idea how long it takes to sharpen a knife?” he asked, sending accusing looks in her direction.

“Not nearly as long as it took to dull it,” she replied sassily. “How was I supposed to know that scraping it across the salt would dull it?”

“You could have asked.”

“Who? You?” Her eyes began to glow with building temper. “You certainly didn’t complain when it spent three days stuck in the wall!”

“I’m surprised it didn’t just bounce off!”

Linsey picked up a log to add to the fire and momentarily considered hitting him with it. Wouldn’t be fair to the log, she decided, placing it in the blazing coals.

“We need more firewood,” she stated, looking at the depleted pile.

“‘Round the side of the cabin.” Bear carefully tested the blade, then returned to sharpening it. He had several other knives, one of which he decided to give to her. It would be for her sole use. She could scrape all the salt or sand or anything else she wanted to scrape with it, just as long as she left this knife alone.

A muffled scream interrupted his thoughts. Moving with cautious speed, Bear reached for his rifle beside the open door, loaded it and stepped out into the snow. The setting sun turned the snow to a glittering pink. Looking carefully to the right and then left, he quickly realized there was no danger. The snow was unbroken except for the trail left by the arrival and departure of Wolf … and the path leading around the side of the cabin.

Another muffled scream came from that direction, and Bear followed the trail. In places the snow had blown into drifts nearly waist high, and he wondered how Linsey had managed to wade through it. His greater weight sunk him ankle deep with each step.

When he rounded the cabin, he was greeted by a sight that brought a smile to his lips. Two bare legs protruded from the snowbank. A bare foot waved frantically. Another muffled scream broke him from his amused trance, and he grabbed a handful of her dress and easily pulled her free.

Linsey spit and sputtered, wiping the cold wetness from her face with one hand while holding firmly onto him with the other. When she could see again, her temper flared from the humor dancing in his eyes.

“It … is … not… funny!” She stamped her foot, and snow fell from her hair, some of it going down the back of her dress.

“I was just thinking I had never seen a more attractive snow … ah … woman.”

“I want to go home … now!” Linsey turned from his grinning face to return to the cabin. Her battered dignity was further tested when her foot slipped and she would have fallen again had he not reached out and grabbed her.

“In the spring,” Bear replied with a chuckle. “Surely you can see the grave dangers we would face should we begin the journey now.” His gaze traveled from the top of her wet head to her foot … her bare foot. “I would spend too much of my time pulling you out of snowbanks. We’d never get to our destination.”

Raising her nose haughtily, Linsey stamped away, careful where she stepped so that she did not fall. Each time her bare foot stepped into the snow, she quickly lifted it, so that her usual graceful glide became reminiscent of a hop-step movement.

“You did not gather the firewood,” Bear reminded her needlessly, retrieving her moccasin from several feet away.

Stepping into the doorway, she turned disdainfully. “You’re outside. You get it.”

His grin widened as he walked past her to the other side of the cabin. Linsey realized that the snow was not nearly as deep there. He walked only half the distance she had covered on the far side of the cabin and stopped before a place where the snow was mound nearly to the roof. Working quickly, he brushed it away, revealing a neatly stacked woodpile covered by a heavy canvas tar p.

“The snow always piles up higher on the other side because there are no trees to cause a wind break.” He loaded his arms with logs and turned back to her. “I put the woodpile here so that it would stay drier.” He passed her in the doorway, a grin teasing the dimple in his cheek. “And so that I wouldn’t have to worry about falling down the slope on that side of the cabin.”

“I’m going home!” Linsey slammed the door, testing the newly repaired hinge. “The divil take ye and yon snowbank. If I canna walk or float, then it’s wings I’ll sprout and fly myself home!”

 

CHAPTER SIX

 

 

An hour after going to bed, Linsey was still awake, wiggling on her make-shift bed. Finding a comfortable position on the hard table was impossible, she decided with a huff as she rolled from her back to her side. The remembered softness of the bed taunted her as she pulled a heavy fur up to her chin. Each time she moved, one of the furs or blankets started sliding to the floor, and she had to make a quick grab for it, which usually dislodged others.

The discomfort did nothing toward improving her already frayed temper. The dip in the snowbank still rankled, and all evening she had searched for a way to release some of her frustration. Bear had given her no opposition when she tried picking an argument with him, thwarting her simply by being patient. Now, as she searched for sleep, unable to relax, she blamed it on the table … and the man who refused to be a gentleman and offer her the bed.

Across the room, snug and warm in his massive bed, Bear listened to Linsey tossing and turning. Occasionally a muffled word reached him, and he judged her building temper as the unintelligible murmurs became distinct curses. He wondered how long her anger would burn before it either exploded or faded away. At the rate she was going, it would still be white hot in the morning!

Bear rolled to his side so that he could watch her in the glow of the banked fire. In a short span of time, he watched as she turned from one side to the other and back again, grumbling each time she moved. His quiet sigh was one of resignation. If either of them was to get any sleep, she would have to find a release from her agitation.

Had Linsey been able to see his eyes, she would have found a gleam of anticipation in them.

The tranquil quiet in the small cabin held the promise of the calm before a storm, disturbed only as Linsey again changed positions. The fury of the storm broke over Bear’s head with his quiet words.

“Take care, Wiggle Worm, or you will fall off your bed.”

Worm? Linsey threw off the heavy fur, swung her legs over the side of the table and sat up. She stared into the corner and through the darkness could see a vague outline of his massive body. All evening she had waited for him to say something, anything, that would give her an excuse to unleash her anger. Worm wasn’t much, but it would do!

She jumped down and began pacing the room, Gaelic curses flowing freely from her tongue. She had learned them from her father during one of his frequent bursts of temper. When she began repeating herself, she switched to English, easily remembering the flowery curses she had overheard at various times in her life.

Bear waited patiently for a lull. He recognized the Gaelic for what it was but was unfamiliar with the language. However, her English was bruisingly clear, and he raised an eyebrow, a smile crossing his face at her colorful rantings.

Linsey began to feel rather sheepish as the towering rage washed away.

“Do you get angry very often?” Bear asked quietly. Linsey found herself at the foot of the bed and leaned against one of its tall posts. “I didn’t even know I had a temper until I was kidnapped.”

“That is hard to believe, little one,” Bear replied with a chuckle.

“One of the few things I can remember about my mother was her temper.” Linsey smiled, the memories happy ones. “My father seemed to enjoy her outbursts, and they always ended with both of them smiling at each other.” She pushed her tangled hair away from her face. “My father’s temper is almost legend in Philadelphia. But I really thought I hadn’t inherited it from either of them. I’ve never been angry until the afternoon Jeb and Zeke stopped our carriage.”

The horror of that afternoon quickly erased the smile from her face. Sensing her change of mood, Bear sat up and held his hand out to her. “Come here,
petit chat.”

“Petit chat?”
Linsey moved slowly toward him, her hand reaching for his.

His big hand engulfed hers, and he pulled her to the edge of the bed. “You were hissing and spitting like a little kitten.”

Once more, simply touching him brought a feeling of security to her. “I was angry,” she finally replied.

“That is an understatement.” Bear chuckled. “What were you saying in … Gaelic, I believe?”

She nodded affirmation as a roguish smile dimpled her cheeks. “I’m not sure exactly what I said. My father would never translate those particular words for me, though he did turn an attractive shade of red when I repeated them to him and asked their meaning.”

Bear threw back his head and roared with laughter. Linsey joined in, her sense of humor quickly restored. He released her hand and wrapped an arm around her shoulders, hugging her tightly as they shared their amusement. Finding her face turned up to his, Bear bent and lightly kissed her lips. It was a natural reaction, without conscious thought. He meant it to go no further. But when his lips met hers, laughter was wiped from their faces. He raised his head, and their eyes met; and as he watched, the sparkle in hers was replaced by a startled, wary expression. His gaze lowered to her slightly parted Ups, and he was drawn to them by a force as powerful as life itself.

Linsey raised her hands defensively to his bare chest, but any thought of resistance was drained away as her lips met his. It began as gently as a spring shower, his lips softly teasing hers, barely touching as they rubbed lightly back and forth. He deepened the kiss gradually as her lips parted. He nibbled lightly at her Ups, the tip of his tongue soothing the sensuous bites.

The softness of his lips against hers and the warmth of his breath against her cheek made Linsey feel as if she were floating. It came as a shock when she realized he had picked her up and set her on his lap. It seemed natural for her hands to slide up his chest until her arms wrapped around his neck. Her fingers found their way into the long hair on his nape and teased at the thick strands.

Taking care not to alarm her, wanting the magic to go on and on, Bear deepened the kiss further, carefully introducing her to the sensation of his tongue sampling the sweetness of her mouth.

Linsey hesitantly met it with the tip of hers, feeling his startled reaction in the tightening of the muscles in his shoulders. She began to withdraw when his hand moved to the back of her head and lightly, but firmly, held her in place.

Her long hair spread around her like a cape, and Bear tangled his hands in the silken curls. His moan was lost in her mouth when she innocently moved and her breasts flattened against his chest. Only the thickness of her deerhide dress separated their bodies — a fact that offered its own torment to Bear’s whirling thoughts.

Linsey’s mind reeled at the new sensations running wild fire hot through her body. Touching him had always brought a feeling of security to her. Now it brought a different kind of feeling altogether as she lightly traced the tight muscles of his shoulders.

She had grown accustomed to touching his scarred face and felt no hesitation in moving her hand from his neck to gently cup his cheek. He moaned softly at the touch and covered her hand with his, holding her palm against his cheek.

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