Savage Destiny (The Hearts of Liberty Series, Book 1) (47 page)

"Hunter, please wait," she called.

Intending to tell her to leave him be, Hunter turned back, but Alanna had also gotten to her feet, and as she hurried toward him, the hem of her dress swung dangerously close to the fire. "Be careful!" he shouted, but startled by the harshness of his tone Alanna drew back, sending her hem directly into the flames.

Dampened from her stay out on the rocks while fishing, rather than igniting, the fire-kissed fabric sent up a small cloud of steam and smoke that instantly caught Alanna's attention. Fearing her gown would burn as brightly as a torch, she moved back so quickly, she tripped and fell. Seeing her trapped in her still-steaming garment, Hunter rushed forward and threw himself across her feet to smother what he mistook for the first hint of flames.

Pinned to the ground, Alanna knew exactly what Hunter was doing, but she was terrified he might be the one to get burned in the process. She struggled to sit up and push him away, but realizing the danger to her had been slight and was now over, Hunter moved forward rather than away. His momentum again forced Alanna back against the ground, and when he grabbed her hands, that's where she had to stay.

"Even a wood sprite can get burned. Why weren't you more careful?"

He was so close, Alanna had no time to reply before his lips found hers. He had shown her both passion and sweetness, but this time his kiss held more than a hint of anger, and she rebelled rather than respond. She shoved against him, but he held her too tightly for her to gain any leverage. She tried using her legs, then, fearing she would reopen his wound, she ceased to struggle. To be scolded with brutal kisses felt strange indeed, but it wasn't until she relaxed and lay perfectly still, that Hunter ended what she considered curiously inappropriate punishment.

"Answer me," he ordered.

Alanna regarded him with a blank stare. He had pressed himself against her just like this the morning she had awakened him in the barn, and now that she knew him better, the experience was even more affecting. She was fully clothed, but he wasn't, and looking up at his bare shoulders, her only thought was how much she wanted to touch him.

"I can't recall the question," she finally admitted in a breathless whisper.

Hunter would have repeated it, but distracted by his own reflection in her bright green eyes, he could not remember it either. He leaned down to kiss her again with teasing nibbles, and when he released her hands, she untied the leather thong at his nape, spilling his hair down over his shoulders. While the gesture brought a familiar ache to his heart, Alanna was the only woman on his mind.

Chapter 21

Hunter's kisses turned soft and sweet, lulling Alanna into a blissful euphoria where painful memories ceased to exist and only the rapture of the moment mattered. No longer feverish, his skin held a delicious warmth, and she ran her fingertips down his spine, then wrapped her arms around his waist to hold him close. He felt so good to her, so right. There was none of the awkwardness she felt with other men, but only a magical allure that made her cling to him with undisguised longing.

Without a pause in his ever-deepening kisses, Hunter unfastened the row of buttons that ran down her bodice, then slipped his hand inside. The top of her sheer cotton chemise was as heavily decorated with lace as the hem had been, and he pushed it aside to expose the creamy smoothness of her breasts. She was so fair her nipples remained a delicate pink, even after he had teased them into firm peaks. Hungry for the taste of her, he slid his tongue over one breast, and then its twin, before drawing the crest of the first between his lips for a more appreciative appraisal of her endearing charms.

Tender, taunting, insistent, demanding, he used his lips, tongue, and teeth to arouse her passions, until her response was as wild as his own. He wanted her out of the clothes that hampered his every move, and reached beneath her skirt to slide her drawers down over her hips. She arched her back, leaning into him to make his task easier, and the undergarment was swiftly flung aside. He ran his hand up the smoothness of her inner thigh, parting her legs with a gentle caress that left her lying totally open to him.

Considerate as well as ardent, he created superbly tantalizing sensations in a slow, deliberate assault on her senses. He could feel her desire growing with each heartbeat, and yet drew away before she reached the ecstasy he had made her crave. He sat up and yanked first her gown, and then the remnants of her chemise off over her head. Now nude, Alanna watched him with a soft, sultry glance, as he ran a fingertip slowly from her lips, down between her breasts, across the warm hollow of her belly, and through the triangle of golden curls veiling the last of her secrets.

He had likened her to a wood sprite, but there was nothing elfin about her now. Tall and slim, her proportions were as lovely as her features, and he again stretched out beside her, eager for the thrill of her loving. Having had only a sample of her favors, he again suckled at her breasts, while his fingertips danced in a slow circling motion that dipped and slid ever deeper, testing the limits of her virginity, until she was straining against him, silently begging him to end the last separation remaining between them.

Hunter wanted her just as badly, but the ache in his thigh was now a throbbing pain, threatening to bring tears to his eyes. Fearing his injury would make him so clumsy Alanna would be revolted rather than satisfied with his talents as a lover, he chose to teach her only how good
he
could make
her
feel. There would be other days, when he was stronger, when he would make love to her until she begged him to stop, but for now, he was content with giving her pleasure with the subtle pressure of his fingertips.

Neither Rachel Barclay's halting description of romance and its consequences, nor Polly McBride's far more explicit summary of the act that insured the continuation of the human race, had adequately prepared Alanna for the splendor of Hunter's fevered kisses and adoring touch. She could scarcely breathe as an exquisite joy swelled within her to a stunning crest, then spilled forth a delectable warmth that brought her the first glimpse of true contentment she had ever known. Lying relaxed in Hunter's arms, she felt truly loved, until she realized he hadn't spoken a single endearment, nor made any promises of love. That Melissa's first midnight encounter with the incredibly affectionate Indian had left her pregnant, made his lingering preference for Alanna's late cousin tragically clear.

Taking a practical view, she supposed she should be grateful he had not wanted to risk sending her home carrying his child. For a sensitive, introspective young woman, however, it was far easier to see his reluctance to make love to her in more personal terms. She feared she lacked Melissa's beauty, charm, and most importantly, her cousin's easy command of Hunter's heart. The glory of their affectionate interlude dissolving in a wave of self-pity, she felt too ashamed of her many shortcomings to remain in Hunter's embrace. She reached for her discarded garments as she sat up, and when she rose to her feet, her gown presented a modest barrier to Hunter's puzzled glance.

"I have to bathe and dress," she announced with forced calm. "Then we can move the camp."

Thoroughly distracted, Hunter was shocked by her sudden interest in a matter he had completely forgotten. "Whatever you like," he assured her, but she looked anything but pleased as she hurried away, and he felt that despite his best intentions, he had disappointed her. He swept his hair off his forehead and searched for the thong to secure it, then lay back down and shaded his eyes with his forearm. Alanna had such a fragile spirit, and it saddened him to think he might have frightened her with his enthusiasm for her affection. She certainly hadn't seemed terrified at the time, quite the contrary, but the sorrow in her gaze had been unmistakable.

Maybe she
had
loved Elliott. If so, then he had rushed her, and would now pay the price for that thoughtlessness. She was a sweet girl, a very dear one, and if she had loved Elliott, then Hunter feared it would take a long time for her to fall in love with him. The challenge would be to keep her with him long enough for her feelings to grow that deep.

Alanna bathed hurriedly and washed her clothes. Having nothing else to wear, she sat in the sun in her wet chemise and drawers, and waited for them to dry. She had again drenched her hair, and used her fingers to comb the tangles from her long curls. Her mood a melancholy one, she could not overcome the nagging suspicion that in Hunter's eyes, she was a very poor substitute for Melissa. Even if that assumption were incorrect, his failure to make love to her proved she was lacking in some crucial aspect. Perhaps it was merely her inexperience that had disappointed him, but he had not told her how to please him, so how could she have known what he wanted?

Despondent, Alanna stayed away from Hunter for more than two hours. When she finally gathered the courage to return to their camp, he was asleep and, relieved not to have to face him, she went on along the shore to look for another place for them to spend a few days. Partial to a small clearing bordered by raspberry vines, she sat down, leaned back against a convenient spruce, and in a few minutes began to doze. She was very grateful Hunter was going to live, but she felt far from alive herself, and her dreams reflected the loneliness that was too often her only companion.

Hunter awoke with a start, sat up, and called Alanna's name. When there was no response, he lurched to his feet and, still relying on his cane, hobbled down to the lake to look for her. He had not meant to fall asleep, and hoped she wasn't angry with him for again leaving her with all the work. When he didn't see her, he shouted her name, but it echoed unanswered over the undulating waters of the Sacandaga.

The current was swift, but he doubted she would have strayed so far from the shore that she could have been swept away by it. After all, she had grown up on the banks of the James River, so she was no stranger to the water's peril. Frustrated, he felt certain she would have gone south rather than north, and started off in that direction. Hopping along over the rocky shore he made very poor time, and was completely worn out when he finally found her. He could not imagine why she had wandered off by herself, and scowled angrily as he eased himself down beside her.

He shook her shoulder to wake her. "Do you enjoy making me worry?" he asked.

Alanna's initial smile faded when she saw how displeased he was. "I had no such intention."

"Then why did you disappear? How was I supposed to know where you'd gone?"

"It doesn't look as though you had too much difficulty finding me. If this place appeals to you, wait here, and I'll go back to get our things and erase all trace of our presence at our last camp."

That was certainly a reasonable suggestion, but Hunter shook his head. "Wait awhile. It took me so long to find you, that I don't want you running off again."

Taking that as further evidence of his disappointment in her, Alanna twisted her hands in her lap. "You were asleep, so I decided to do a bit of exploring. I didn't run off and leave you."

Hunter hadn't meant to sound so cross with her, but damn it, he was. He had made love to her, but she was behaving as though it had never happened. "Is it Elliott, is that what's wrong?"

"Elliott?"

She looked merely confused, and Hunter tried not to lose his patience with her again. He took her hand and brought it to his lips. "Elliott was a fine man and if you loved him—"

"Of course, I loved him."

"Yes, he was part of your family and you loved him, but that doesn't mean you loved him the way a woman should love a man she plans to marry."

Alanna pulled her hand from his and crossed her arms over her bosom, to prevent him from touching her. "I don't want to talk about this again. What Elliott and I might or might not have done doesn't matter anymore."

"It matters if you prefer memories of him to
me."

Aghast at that comment, Alanna rose and stepped out of his reach. "I'm not the one who—well, never mind. It doesn't matter now."

"Stop saying that. It does matter, or you wouldn't look so miserable!"

"Why shouldn't I be miserable?" Alanna shouted right back at him. "People are being killed. You're badly hurt. We're lost in the forest. Does that make you happy?"

"No, but—"

"I'm not leaving you," Alanna called over her shoulder. "I'll be back soon."