Twelfth Moon (16 page)

She had better be careful. There was no guarantee that Jonah felt anything but a physical attraction to her. And there was no forgetting the fact that she was still guilty of murder. Nothing could change that. She could only hope that by the time they reached New Orleans, she could convince him to stay with her. But first she had to discover what it was Ba'cho had in mind for them.

They rode out, Ba'cho’s two brothers staying to the rear. As Ba'cho passed on his way to take his place at the front, Cadence caught and held his gaze, intense and blatantly admiring. It lasted only a moment, but it was enough to get the feeling that this man and his people knew much about her. And there was something else – a sense of the familiar. It was very disturbing.

Jonah’s reaction migrated to her, his body stiffening. She felt it in the tensing of his muscles, the way his breathing changed. He didn’t like the attention Ba'cho was giving her. What he didn’t know, however, was that she belonged to him – body and soul. Sooner or later she was going to have to tell him, but she still had doubts about him. She wasn’t about to hand over that kind of power to him – yet.

Ba'cho openly showed his appreciation as he studied the woman called Cadence. She was very beautiful; no man could deny it, especially one like him. Her skin was a pale contrast to her short-cropped, curly black hair. She was slim, but with pleasingly curved hips and lush breasts. He had only caught a glimpse before she’d covered herself with the blanket.

And every time she had looked at him, he’d been enchanted by her large, green eyes. If it weren’t for the fact that it was her sister he was after, he might have been tempted to seduce her, taken her to his pallet and given her much pleasure. All the men of his tribe were handsome, strong, and virile. But she had already chosen her mate, Jonah, and it was easy for all eyes to see that he was very possessive of her. Besides, it was her golden sister Ba'cho had dreamed of. It was she he believed to be his future mate.

Ba'cho had until the rising of the next full moon to find the sister. As foretold in his dream, he was to bring her to his people. She was destined to heal the breach that held them imprisoned. And during the next full moon she would come into her cycle of mating. He fully intended to be there when she did.

The image of the woman in his dream filled his mind. Her skin was so pale and perfect it seemed to glow in the light of the moon. Her long, golden hair fell over her shoulders in a shimmering waterfall of soft waves. He longed to hold her in his arms, to have her beneath him, to watch her beautiful blue eyes flash with passion. Every time he thought about it, he became hard and aching.

However, along with her image, a pair of green-gold eyes persisted in haunting him. Ba'cho could not put a face to those eyes. He did not know what it could mean. It was frustrating and gave him a very uncomfortable feeling, as though the Gods were preparing to play a prank on him. But, soon he would have the golden woman. He would bring her to his people so she could fulfill her destiny.

He faced forward and with a flick of his heel, spurred his horse to the front of their small group. In three days, they would reach his village. That is where the beautiful, magic woman and her mate would be tested…and the truth revealed.

They rode at a steady pace, taking few breaks, speaking even fewer words. Cadence discovered a new kind of torture, her heightened awareness of Jonah’s large body behind her making her shift restlessly in the saddle. Every point of contact where they touched, her skin tingled. Ultra-sensitive nerve endings sent continuous signals directly to the juncture of her thighs, causing moisture to pool there. The friction of her trousers rubbing against that most sensitive area only made the situation worse. Jonah’s huge erection burning into her back didn’t help matters, either.

Transferring the reins to one hand, Jonah freed his other and slid his arm across her belly. He pulled her up tight against his front, putting his mouth close to her ear. “Stop wiggling, Hellcat, or we’ll both give our newfound friends an eyeful,” he rasped low.

“I can’t help it,” Cadence whispered hoarsely. “The moon is still full. As the sun sets, my condition gets harder to control.”

“Try and be still for just a little longer. Once we stop for the night, I’ll see if I can get us some privacy.”

AFTER WASHING UP in a nearby stream, Cadence watched as Ba'cho and his brothers laid their bedrolls in a three-point perimeter of their camp. There was a place for Cadence and Jonah in the middle, near the fire.

Ba'cho noticed her curiosity. “It is for your protection, not to keep you from escaping. You are vulnerable.”

Jonah moved to stand at her side and Cadence asked, “What do you mean – vulnerable?”

Ba'cho remained silent, his black gaze steady on her face. It seemed as though he were weighing his answer, determining how much he should reveal. “There are forces unknown to most,” he began quietly. “You know this.”

Frustrated by another one of his cryptic answers, Cadence cried, “What does that mean!” Jonah gripped her arm, lightly squeezing a warning.

“We are not the only ones who know who you are, Ndołkah,” Ba'cho said softly, unaffected by her outburst. “There is evil – and we come closer to it as each day passes. It will not touch you as long as my brothers and I are near.”

Cadence shivered. “Evil?” She
had
felt it – or something that had begun as an uncomfortable, crawling sensation. It was faint, but there just the same. She didn’t understand it, or where it was coming from. “Why are you here? Why did you come for me?”

Cadence huffed, throwing her hands up. He wasn’t going to tell her until he was ready. There would be no explanations – any
real
explanations, apparently – until they reached their destination.

“If you were our prisoners,” Ba'cho said, and then grinned, “we would have taken your boots, bound your hands and forced you to walk behind your horse, attached by a leading rope.”

“Sounds lovely,” Cadence muttered, feeling churlish.

Ba'cho chuckled. “It would not have been…
lovely
.”

“It will have to do,” Ba'cho said with finality. “Our people are not embarrassed by the intimacy between men and women. We will sleep and pretend not to listen.” Deeming the conversation over, he turned and walked away in the direction of his bedroll.

Cadence had heard the entire exchange and felt a red-hot burn in her cheeks. How could she possibly engage in such a personal,
intimate,
act, knowing there would be three other men close by, witnessing it!

Jonah put his arm around her shoulders. She shivered with a sudden rush of desire. The sun had set, the full moon still low on the horizon. But it was there, suspended like an iridescent ball of doom.

Just that small contact with him caused her body to sizzle in anticipation, and with a mixture of both dread and delight, she allowed him to guide her to their blankets. She wouldn’t be able to control herself tonight. She could only hope to keep her screams and moans of pleasure to a minimum.

“It’ll be all right,” Jonah said softly near her ear, making her gasp. “We’ll find a way.” They lay down together, wrapping themselves in the blankets. Jonah pulled her into him from behind, his arm tightening around her. She snuggled as close as she could get. The fire was warm and comforting at first, but all too soon, it added to their mingling body heat, creating an inferno.

Squirming, she felt the hard ridge of his arousal pressing into her buttocks and heard Jonah’s low groan. Then his hand was moving, caressing her stomach, her waist, and then traveled upward, kneading her breast. He found her nipple through the fabric of her shirt, pinching it lightly, and then rolled it between his thumb and forefinger, working it into an aching point. She gasped harshly, trying to remember to be quiet.

“Please, Jonah,” she pleaded softly.

His hand lowered to the band of her trousers, unbuttoning them with suspicious efficiency, but her thoughts scattered like fireflies at twilight when he shoved them over her hips and cupped her, dipping a finger into her wet and swollen cleft. She had to bite her lip to keep from crying out, her hips shifting to push his finger deeper.

He ground his arousal against her, his hand pressing tightly to hold her there and groaned in her ear, a deep and primal sound that sent shockwaves shooting along every nerve ending. She was sweating beneath her clothes, swaddled in the blankets, ready to burst into flames from both the heat of the fire, and Jonah’s large body spooned with hers from chest to ankles.

When he removed his hand, she whimpered at the loss of his erotic touch. “Hold on, sweetheart,” he said hoarsely.

She felt him fumbling with the fastening of his trousers, and then he was free, his heavy erection brushing hotly against her bare buttocks. In a low, gravelly voice, he said, “Lift your leg.” She eagerly complied and was rewarded as he slowly eased into her, filling the hollow ache with his thick length.

Jonah tried to stifle his groan as he entered her, but it escaped without his consent. She was so hot and tight and wet, he forgot they weren’t alone in the camp, that there were three Apache braves sleeping nearby. For now he didn’t care. For now he was focused completely on Cadence – her delicious curves, the floral scent of her dark curls as they tickled his nose, and the sweet sounds she made in her attempt to keep quiet.

She was irresistible.

And whether it was some odd condition, or spell, or whatever it was she might be experiencing – he didn’t care. For now, she was the woman in his arms, responding to his touch – and he wanted her with an intensity that would shatter his soul if he thought too much about it.

He withdrew slowly, hissing air through his teeth as he plunged back in, her inner muscles gripping him so firmly, he came dangerously close to spilling too soon. She tilted her hips back, allowing him to go deeper. Sweat dripped off his forehead, down his temples, his thrusts increasing in speed and power. He held her immobile, his hand on her hip, as he drove into her again and again, their panting breaths breaking the silence of the night air.

Cadence wanted to scream out her pleasure, the tension building in her core as Jonah thrust into her. His hand moved from her hip to the place between her legs, his fingers stroking the tiny nub of flesh, centering all sensation there. He pumped harder and faster, his fingers working their magic and suddenly she burst into a million pieces, her inner muscles flexing tightly around him, embracing him from within. He thrust one last time, impaling her deeply and held himself there, flooding her with his hot seed. He groaned, his manhood pulsing rhythmically with his release.

They lay there, breathing, sweating, still united, his arms holding her tight. Eventually, their breathing slowed, their bodies cooled, and the familiar sounds of the prairie night intruded. Cadence opened her eyes, looking across the camp at the lump that was either Ba'cho, or one of his brothers. He was several yards away and lay unmoving, but she couldn’t suppress her groan of mortification.

Jonah squeezed her lightly. “Don’t fret about it, Hellcat,” he said, correctly guessing her thoughts. “Ba'cho did say that this was accepted and natural in his culture. I’ve encountered native Indians before and it’s true – they’re a very open people when it comes to relationships and closeness. It’s nothing to be embarrassed about.”

“And yet I’m still embarrassed,” she said hoarsely. “How am I going to face them in the morning?”
Damn this cursed curse!
she thought bitterly. If only she knew whether Jonah really wanted her –
for her
– and not just because she was a ready and willing female. Was she being too hard on him? It was not his fault that she suffered the effects of an unusual cycle. She could only console herself that it wasn’t Ned Furley she was now bound to. Once Jonah found out the whole truth about her, would he stay with her, or would he be repulsed? She had a feeling she would soon find out.

“You will hold your head up and pretend nothing happened,” Jonah said.

It was a simple thing, but it was all she could do. “Just as Ba'cho and his brothers will pretend they hadn’t heard anything,” she said dryly.

Jonah chuckled. The motion caused him to slip from her, leaving her feeling desolate and empty. With a sigh, Cadence pulled up her trousers, the movements behind her telling her Jonah did the same. He wrapped his arms around her and kissed her still-damp neck. “Go to sleep, Hellcat.”

Twelve

CADENCE HOWLED IN pain.

She lay on the ground, writhing like the snake that had bitten her. It had been a rattler, hidden behind some low rocks, striking with deadly precision. She hadn’t even heard its tell-tale warning until it was too late. The snake was dead, of course. Nah-kah-yen had killed it with his bare hands, exclaiming, “Yah-tats-an!” which Ba'cho had explained meant ‘now it is dead.’