Nan Ryan (25 page)

Teasing kisses. Caring kisses. Permission-seeking kisses.

The effect was overwhelming.

But sobering.

This powerfully sexual savage was much more than just a powerfully sexual savage. He was also cunning and clever. Intelligent and sensitive. He was not going to force her. Diane knew the reason. This wise Indian refused to allow her the guiltless luxury of “not being able to stop him.” He was making it very clear that he wanted her, that his body yearned for hers. That he longed to make love to her, that he would make love to her. If she wanted it. But not unless she was totally willing. She did
not
have to submit to him. He was letting—making—her be the one to decide just how far this dangerously delightful love play would go. The choice was entirely hers.

Damn him to hell!

Diane sighed with frustration and turned her face away. Starkeeper kissed her flushed cheek, his lips sliding beguilingly to the sensitive spot just below her ear.

“No, don’t. Stop,” she murmured breathlessly, torn between meaning it and wishing he’d never, ever stop. “Please. Let me go, Beast.” She said it with as much conviction as she could manage.

Starkeeper’s moving lips stilled; his dark head lifted. Diane slowly turned her head to look at him. In his beautiful dark eyes was an appealing blend of passion and puzzlement.

Strangely a lump rose in Diane’s throat. She wanted—needed—to cry. Why, she didn’t know. Confused, she looked into those eyes and steeled herself against their magnetic power. Mentally reminding herself that those compelling eyes promised as much punishment as pleasure, she felt her frustration and anger returning.

And it was his fault. All his fault. He was beautiful and tender and dangerous all at the same time. So very appealing.

“You’re nothing at all like the big cat,” Diane said. She pushed at his smooth, sculpted shoulders, urging him to move.

“No, Beauty?” His tone was cool, but his breath was labored. He levered himself up, sat down on the grassy bank, and pulled her into a sitting position. He reached for her discarded satin chemise. She snatched it from him.

Anxiously placing it over her bare, hard-nippled breasts, Diane repeated, “No. No, you’re not. I freed the big cat, and he was grateful. He remembered my kindness, so he didn’t hurt me.” She narrowed her violet eyes at him. “But you. I freed you when no one else would, and what thanks do I get? You kidnap me! You frighten me half to death. You carry me off to God knows where. Then—then you throw me down here and try to—to … You take advantage of—of … you kiss—kiss …” Her words trailed away.

“Beauty, I don’t believe the man’s been born who could take advantage of you,” he said in that low, quiet monotone. He paused and added, “Don’t worry. I won’t touch you again.”

Hopefully she asked, “Will you let me go?”

“Soon.” He rose to his feet, looked down at her, a muscle working furiously in his bronzed jaw. “Soon you’ll be free and back with your own people.”

Diane nodded. But she suspected she would never be totally free again.

*   *   *  

The journey continued.

Up and through Milner Pass they rode. Then down to follow the Canadian River northward, riding in the shadow of the Medicine Bow Mountains. Eventually they turned more westward, angling toward the emerald green Sierra Madre rising in the near distance.

Skirting the rugged foothills of the Sierras, they crossed over the Wyoming border, moved through Bridger Pass and down into the Great Divide Basin. Desolate, treeless, endless, the basin was a hot, semiarid desert of sagebrush and sun.

Dotted by an occasional lonely-looking ranch house, wide open rangelands stretched in every direction. Straight ahead in the distance, snow-draped mountain peaks rose to meet a blue Wyoming sky. Diane, staring up at those cool, inviting peaks from beneath the brim of the stolen Stetson, had no need to ask. She knew they had to be in the Wind River Range.

They were almost to their destination.

There had been little conversation and absolutely no physical contact between Diane and her enigmatic captor since the incident at the alpine pool. It seemed that his aloof behavior went a bit further than was needed to reassure her he had no intention of harming her.

He was distant, almost sullen, insisting they push on up the trail at a steady pace as if he couldn’t wait to get her to the reservation. And out of his sight.

So Diane was thoroughly surprised when right in the middle of the hot afternoon he asked quietly, “How would you like to go for a swim?”

Diane answered without hesitation. “Lord, I’d love it.”

Starkeeper said no more. He neck-reined the big stallion a little more westward, and in half an hour the hot, tired Diane felt as if she were surely seeing a mirage.

A large body of water cut through the bleak sage land, a wide stream with beautifully clear waters and wonderfully sandy beaches.

“The Green River,” Starkeeper announced flatly, swung down off the horse, and reached for Diane.

Her wide violet eyes were on the tempting water lapping lazily at the smooth, sandy banks. She clutched at Starkeeper’s wide, bare shoulders, and as soon as her feet touched the ground, she smiled up at him and said, “Are you as anxious as I am to feel that cold, clean water close over your head?”

He clung to her small waist a second longer. “I’m allowed to enjoy the water, too?”

Her eyes met his. “I’m not that big a bitch.”

She stepped away from him, hurried toward the water, ripping off the Stetson as she ran. She wasn’t the least bit uneasy when she pulled her purple dress up over her head. He’d said he wouldn’t touch her, and she believed him. She dropped the dress, kicked off her shoes, and raced eagerly across the hot sand and out into the icy water, yipping and squealing like a delighted child.

On the sandy banks Starkeeper watched her with half-hooded eyes as he unstrapped the shotgun chaps at the back of his waist and behind his knees. He stepped out of his moccasins, dropped the sheathed knife, and headed to the water’s edge. He waded out and stopped when the river’s cold, bracing water lapped at his hard thighs.

Diane, treading water in the middle of the river, saw him hesitate and called to him. “What are you waiting for? It’s wonderful! Come on in!”

Starkeeper looked straight at her, hooked a thumb under the thin leather string of his breechcloth, and said, “Your satin underwear will be dry ten minutes after you get out. It will take hours for this leather to dry.”

Diane cocked her head thoughtfully. What he said was true. She was sympathetic to his predicament.

“Take it off,” she called, and quickly turned away.

Starkeeper yanked at the leather string knotted atop his hip, pulled the tiny leather apron up and away from his body, and sailed it back to the sandy beach. He immediately dived under the river’s surface and swam underwater with his eyes open until he reached Diane.

She was still turned away from him, her feet busily churning the water, her hands splashing on the top. He couldn’t resist. He plunged down, reached out, and tugged playfully on a cute toe.

His tightly closed mouth stretched into a grin when he heard her squeal of laughter. Kicking fiercely, she spun about and peered down into the water. Starkeeper heard her shout of glee when she spotted him. She promptly grabbed double handfuls of his flowing black hair. Diane gave his hair a firm yank, pulling him up.

His dark head broke the surface a foot from her. Laughing, she released his hair, kicked at his wet smooth chest, intending to push rapidly away and swim backward. But when her foot touched his slippery chest, Starkeeper’s quick fingers locked around her slender ankle.

Diane shrieked and giggled as he reeled her to him, capturing the other ankle despite her wild splashing and kicking. Starkeeper was still smiling as he effortlessly hauled her in to him, drew her long, slender legs around his waist, and pulled her close.

He locked his wrists firmly beneath her bottom and said, “Got you.”

“No, you haven’t,” she said, struggling against him, unlocking her legs from around him, lowering her feet to dig her toes into his shins.

“Hey, that silver bracelet is cutting into my—my … it’s hurting me,” she said.

His wrists came unlocked at once, and Diane hooted with laughter because he had fallen for the ruse. She hurriedly pushed him away, but he was swifter than she. Realizing she had tricked him, he wrapped a hand around the nape of her neck and jerked her back in place.

The amusing game soon came to an abrupt end.

They had laughed and played together in the water for only a brief, lovely moment before into their midst came an uninvited guest whose name was desire.

Her wet, tangled hair falling into her sparkling violet eyes, her gay laughter warming Starkeeper’s heart, Diane squirmed and bucked and shimmied up and down his lean body in a fun-loving attempt to escape the powerful bronzed arms imprisoning her. He played along, enjoying the frolic as much as she.

The laughing Diane had managed to climb up Starkeeper’s sleek body until her arms were wrapped around his dark head. His smiling face was pressed into the curve of her neck and shoulder. She was rocking against him in an attempt to break the locked wrists beneath her bottom.

Starkeeper’s wrists did come unlocked, but he grabbed for her firm bottom, his long fingers spreading on the twin cheeks. His hands pressed her soft, wiggling body against his hard, ungiving frame. Diane’s hugging arms forced his dark head against the bare swell of her breasts.

Diane’s laughter died and Starkeeper’s indulgent smile vanished simultaneously. For an instant more he pressed her body intimately close to him, all his muscles hard and straining. Diane, tightly pressing his dark head to her breasts, felt his lips against her wet flesh not an inch above her taut nipple.

His touch made her shiver and involuntarily take in air. Starkeeper’s fingers reflexively tightened on her rounded buttocks; he urged her closer, then slowly slid her down his rigid body. Diane unwrapped her arms from around his head, her legs from around his body.

Her feet touched bottom; she avoided his eyes. Starkeeper released her, his tall, tensed body as still as a statue.

Overhead dark clouds suddenly obscured the sun.

Diane trembled from the cold and emotion. She turned and without a word swam away from him. Starkeeper stayed where he was, the hands that had cupped her satin-clad bottom balling into tight fists at his sides.

He waited until she was fully dressed and sitting on the sandy banks hugging her knees, facing away from him. He came out of the river as a bolt of heat lightning flashed over the distant Wind River Mountains.

The first large drops of rain peppered his bare back. A breeze kicked up from out of the east, blowing fine grains of sand against his wet, chilled body.

He stopped and, standing naked behind Diane, reached for his loincloth. Holding the tiny scrap of leather in his right hand, he said softly, “By nightfall we’ll be at Wind River.”

Her bare arms covered with gooseflesh, Diane said, “How can we be? It’s starting to rain.”

“A summer shower, nothing more.” As anxious as she to get to the reservation, knowing it was highly dangerous for the two of them to be alone any longer, he added as he drew the leather apron over his nakedness, “We’ll ride on through the rain.” He paused and added, “We won’t have to spend another night on the trail, Beauty.”

Diane sighed with relief. “Thank God.”

Chapter 24

The summer shower was sporadic and brief. Minutes after the first drops started falling, the rain stopped and the dark, ominous clouds quickly dissipated. The sun came out again, higher and hotter than before.

The silent pair riding a stolen stallion steadily northward were not overly bothered by the hot, dry heat. They took little notice of the fierce Wyoming sun beating down with a vengeance. They were much too preoccupied with a heat of a different kind. A far more potent heat. A highly dangerous heat.

A heat that would not go away with the setting of the sun. The old earth would cool pleasantly with the coming of the night, but the all-encompassing heat torturing the solemn pair would not release its hold on them even in the darkest of midnights.

Starkeeper no longer kidded himself.

This beautiful pale-skinned, raven-haired woman was not safe alone with him. Or was it the other way around?
He
was not safe alone with
her
. Either way, something had to be done and soon before it became impossible to keep his hands off her.

Diane, clutching the saddle horn to avoid any physical contact with her unsmiling captor, gazed down at the firm fingers loosely holding the leather reins, noted the pull and play of muscles in Starkeeper’s bronzed forearm. An icy heat swept over her as she confronted a terrible truth.

She yearned for those strong arms to hold her fast. Longed to have those beautifully tapered fingers touching her. All over.

She was not safe alone with this strange dark man who was not conventionally handsome yet was extraordinarily attractive. Or was it the other way around?
He
wasn’t safe with
her
. It made no difference. Something had to be done. And soon.