Sweet Savage Heart (43 page)

“You treat me like a child or a captive,” she teased.

“Sometimes I think it would be easier on me if you were a child. You know good and well that if my hand were hurt, you’d be treating me this same way. Am I right?” he challenged, and her expression answered him.

When Travis went to give orders to Cody and the hands, Rana entered the water closet to take a bath. She plugged the hole with the wooden stopper and pulled on the cord to allow the wooden tub to fill itself. She grinned as she stepped into it, for she liked the ease and privacy the closet afforded. For a brief moment she could almost hear and see herself splashing in this tub long ago. When she finished, she wrapped a drying sheet around her silky frame and prepared to return to her room to dress.

Since Rana’s door was ajar, Travis thought nothing about pushing it aside and walking into her room. There was a noise behind him as she reopened the closet door, which his entrance had shut on her. As he turned to locate her, he was saying, “Why don’t we go for a walk and I can show—” He ceased talking and his mouth remained open, for she was nude, a vision of magic and temptation that set his passions boiling. He could not
stop his gaze from instantly roaming every inch of her arresting face and figure. He had seen her naked several times in moonlit shadows, but this magnificent view in brilliant light staggered his senses and increased her enormous allure. Her shapely figure was perfect and intoxicatingly appealing. His hands itched to wander over her silky flesh, to leisurely explore curves and peaks and valleys and entreating crevices. He moistened his lips as his mouth craved to do the same. His eyes seemed to scorch her skin, to singe the flaming forest between her sleek thighs, to cause her nipples to grow hard and prominent. He smiled as he observed his effect on her, for she was glowing with desire.

Coming alert, Travis shifted nervously. “I… I’m sorry, Rana. I didn’t know you were… dressing. Call me when you finish,” he said, feeling he was infringing on her privacy. At other times, he had been too consumed by mindless hunger to think about his behavior and its consequences; today he was fully aware of his responsibilities and obligations to Nathan and to Rana. Could he brazenly take her every time and any place the mood struck him? Just hop into bed and make wanton love to her every time Nathan’s back was turned? Damn, he cursed silently. Sometimes he hated this conscience that Nathan had inspired and despised the white man’s idea of morals! As much as he wanted to be honest with Nathan about this situation, he knew he could not, for Nathan was her grandfather and he was very old-fashioned. Without a doubt, Nathan would feel betrayed and duped; he would feel Travis had dishonored his innocent grandchild and used her selfishly. Like him, Nathan would be unable to think clearly and without bias about Rana.

Retrieving the drying sheet that had slipped accidentally from her body, Rana covered herself. Had his cheeks actually flushed and his tongue twisted? she
mused, warmed and amused by his behavior. Since he looked unnerved by their privacy, she asked, “This is not the first time we have been alone or touched. Why do you behave this way?”

Travis inhaled raggedly as his yearning gaze wandered over her bare shoulders and exquisite face. He revealed what he had been thinking. “No woman has ever tempted me or affected me like you do, Rana Michaels. I can’t seem to keep my hands and mind off you. I’d best git out of here while I can. Somebody could come searching for me, and it would appear mighty strange for me to be locked in your bedroom with Nate gone. Much as I crave you, it’s too risky for us to be together this morning,” he explained, though his eyes told another story.

A fetching smile teased over her lips. “We must not feel guilt or shame over this special bond between us. It is sad we cannot tell Grandfather about it, but must we reject each other to obey laws and ways that we know are not right for us? Must we stay apart because the white-eyes say it is evil for us to be together on a sleeping mat? Must we suffer loneliness and separation because Grandfather was taught these foolish and tormenting customs? You have never dishonored me or used me selfishly; I have come to you willingly and eagerly each time. I choose to belong to you, and I care not who says my feelings are wrong or my actions are wicked. Have you forgotten how short life can be? Must we suffer painful denials by living as others demand? We hurt no one by holding our feelings and actions a secret; they are for us alone to share and know. Grandfather is gone and no one should enter your tepee uninvited. We have little time alone. Is it not best to seize each moment and joy?” She hesitated. “Do I speak and act too boldly?”

Travis realized they would be alone for hours and they had total privacy. He could read the matching hunger in her eyes, as she had in his. “Again, your words are true
and wise, and spoken with great courage and daring. I must have lost my mind over you, Rana Michaels. Every time I’m near you, I want you like crazy. This pull between us is too powerful to resist, so thank heavens I don’t want to fight it or have to fight it. I don’t know what I would do if you didn’t feel this way about me. I never thought I would hear myself saying this to any woman, but I love you, Rana Michaels, and this isn’t White Eagle speaking. With everything I am and with both my bloods, I need you and I want you—today, tomorrow, and forever. I don’t like sneaking around behind Nate’s back and I don’t like feeling guilty over taking you, but you’re right about this matter remaining between us. As soon as I settle our problems on the ranch, I’m claiming you totally.”

Travis stepped closer to her and gazed into her compelling face. “White Eagle desired and claimed Wild Wind’s heart, body, and life; now Travis Kincade hungers to do the same with Rana Michaels.”

Rana’s hands slipped up his chest to capture his face between them. She went up on tiptoe to seal their lips after telling him, “Your thoughts and feelings match mine. I love you, Travis Kincade.”

Travis released the drying sheet and allowed it to settle around their feet. He reached past her to lock the door, then scooped her up and carried her to the bed. After removing his boots and clothes, he lay down beside her. Had it only been a few hours since they had made passionate love in this bed? he mused. They had spoken little the night before, for it had not been a time for talking, and silence had seemed to enhance the romantic solitude of her dark room.

Her breath was stolen by the pervasive kisses he could not hold back and by his powerful embrace. He could see and feel her eager responses, her heightened desires, her love and commitment to him. His green eyes darkened
with desire as his lips and hands went to work lovingly on her body.

When their bodies could tolerate no more teasing and tempting, he tenderly eased his flaming shaft inside a haven that received him ardently and gratefully. Mastering the urge to ride her swiftly and hard in order to end his bittersweet hunger, he remained motionless for a brief time, his throbbing manhood behaving as if this were the first time they had joined. He shuddered as it quivered threateningly and he concentrated fiercely on maintaining control. As he set his pattern, her legs closed over his and locked around his lower body. She worked in unison with his movements, arching to meet his rapturous entries and relaxing to endure his mandatory withdrawals. She was driving him wild with her uninhibited behavior. When her mouth nibbled on his ear and she pounded her body forcefully against his, she tempted him to race blindly and rashly for victory. He was ecstatic when she claimed her blissful prize, for he would have been unable to restrain himself any longer.

Together they rode passion’s waves and were rewarded with soul-stirring pleasure. They drank from love’s cup until every drop of its intoxicating liquid was drained and savored. They lay exhausted, but enlivened, in a serene setting of total contentment.

As they snuggled together in the afterglow of love, she entreated dreamily, “Tell me more about White Eagle becoming Travis Kincade.”

Travis patiently repeated the story of his past to her and gave her some new information. Still he left out details of his necessary relationship with Clarissa Caldwell, the threat of destruction from Harrison, and the reappearance of Wes and Jackson in his life. He did not want this beautiful moment spoiled by such ugly and intrusive realities. This thing between them was too special to damage even with defensive lies, so he vowed to
be careful about what he said and did. Besides, Rana had just arrived home; she had enough to learn and to handle without him burdening her with those distasteful and dangerous problems. Too, he was afraid she would insist on becoming a “warrior” to help him battle his foes, and he could not bear the thought of seeing her injured or slain. In a few days, he would explain about the Caldwells and their gunslingers, and why she had to stay out of that situation, and why she must allow him to dally with Clarissa. He would protect her, even from her own skill and confidence, which would cause her to insist on riding at his side.

At present, he knew she was simply very curious about him. He believed that if he was open and honest with her about himself, then eventually she would be able to look upon her own past in the same way. Therefore he was able to explain, “Right after I escaped the Hunkpapa camp, I worked several jobs to spite them, until I realized I couldn’t hurt any or all Indians because of what the Hunkpapas had done to me. Besides, the only one getting hurt was me. When you aim for revenge, you always fire two arrows, and one is pointing at your own heart. That was one of my first and most painful lessons. When I became a U.S. Marshal, I think it was to give me an excuse to hunt down and kill evil men like my father and his partners so they couldn’t hurt innocent people like my mother and me. I finally stopped fooling myself and endangering my life when I discovered why I had been hired. If I recall the words correctly, they went something like, ‘That half-breed can get rid of lots of bastards for us and if he gets killed doing it, what does it matter?’ You see,
micante,
selfish people use gullible people all the time; and people are more gullible when they’re hurt or seeking revenge.”

Rana nestled against his firm body and sighed peacefully. Her gaze roved each marking on his
wanapin
and each scar on his chest and arms. As if trying to determine the agony he had endured with each wound and to comfort them belatedly, her fingers lovingly traced each one. He still retained the honed body, keen instincts, and noble spirit of a highly trained warrior. She had seen him get angry but not lose his temper and control or become violent. She had seen him accept pain without even a soft whimper, and she had seen him use his courage and wits in the Oglala camp. She doubted he had ever cried out during the Sun Dance or his torture. He was so strong and proud, yet so sensitive and vulnerable beneath that seemingly impenetrable surface.

She listened to him talk about his days with the Apaches and how much he had learned from them, even things the Lakota warriors did not know. He talked about riding with outlaws for a time, claiming it was to show the white law that he was invincible and could do whatever he wanted and no one could touch him. She heard him admit he had been trapped between two sides and could not choose which one to help or hurt, until he finally learned he was the one being harmed the most. Under Nathan’s hands, he had come to accept the fact that he could not change the world, only himself. Again, her fingers traced his scarred flesh—which in no way detracted from its beauty and appeal—and caressed his virile body as she absorbed his soulful confessions. She toyed with the Lakota
wanapin
as he told her about it. He had faced so many perils and hardships and had known such anguish. Yet she realized how each incident or job had molded him and honed him into the man he was today, a man who stood above others in so many ways.

Travis kissed her, then left the room to wash up and redress. He returned shortly to find her still reclining on the bed and smiling provocatively at him. He chuckled and teased, “Don’t you go looking at me like that, woman. I have no willpower where you’re concerned,
and Nate could return home in an hour or two. Get up and get dressed so I can show you around your new home.”

Rana did as Travis suggested, rising and leaving the room to refresh herself before dressing. Travis straightened the bed and placed the doll where it had been before their heady bout of lovemaking. He gazed at it and smiled, for he knew that someday they would have a baby, and he vowed their child would never experience the pain its parents had. Strange, he hadn’t given love, marriage, or children any serious thought until he had met that entrancing vixen who had practically turned his gut inside out until he had finally won her heart and acceptance. A child… Nothing would make him happier than making and sharing a child with Rana Michaels. After all, they were married and… Damn, he cursed silently. There were some problems he would have to correct as soon as possible. There was a legal entanglement that now prevented a marriage between them; there was his concern over not getting Rana with child before they were joined under the white man’s law; and there was the matter of getting rid of several dangerous enemies who could be lethal threats to her and Nathan…

Travis saddled two horses and took Rana riding. Without going too far and getting out of sight in case of danger, he spent three hours telling her about ranch life and escorting her around the areas of their spread that were visible to those laboring near the wooden structures or the hands working on horseback. She was fascinated by the branding process, which he allowed her to view through his field glasses. She was concerned that the animals were being hurt, so Travis explained the procedure in detail without allowing her to approach the hectic scene. She observed the hands who were herding wild mustangs into a large corral so they could be broken and sold in two months. In the Oglala camp she had witnessed the mastering of wild horses and knew it was a dangerous task. Yet she eagerly asked Travis if she could watch what he had called “bronco-busting.”