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Authors: Nancy Henderson

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BOOK: Blackbird
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He took a step toward her.  “I think this kissing is something you are ashamed of, Chogan.”

 

“Certainly not!”  She backed up.  She had done nothing with Joshua to be ashamed of, and she resented his accusation.

 

“Then show me.”

 

Meeting his gaze, she accepted his dare only to end this ridiculous game.  Closing the distance between them, she tilted her head and quickly, chastely kissed him on the cheek.  She immediately stepped back.

 

He looked confused.

 

“That’s kissing.”

 

“My version was better.”  He frowned.

 

“Well, it usually takes longer.”

 

She picked up her valise and began walking, but he blocked her path.  “Why does it take longer?” he asked.

 

“Well, because you’re supposed to do it on the mouth, silly.”

 

 

 

CHAPTER FIVE

 

 

 

 

 

“SHOW me,” Adahya said.

 

Her big mouth!  Her stupid, big, fat, never-ending mouth!

 

Katherine shifted uncontrollably.  She looked into his dark eyes.  His expression was stoic, unreadable.  He wasn’t going to let her off easy now.  There was only one way to get out of this mess, and it was to just get it over with as quickly as possible.

 

She set her valise back down and wiped her palms onto the front of her skirts.

 

It made no sense.  In fact, it was probably the craziest thing she had ever done.  Perhaps it was the lingering hurt of Joshua’s rejection or the isolation of being in the forest in the middle of God only knew where.  Whatever the reason, she stepped toward him and cautiously placed her palms against the blue lapels of his jacket.  The large brass buttons were warm against her shaking hands.

 

“You have to put your hands here.”  She directed them to the small of her back.

 

He placed his hands on her hips.

 

The rugged scent of man filled her nostrils.  He smelled a mixture of pine and earth, as if he were a very part of the forest surrounding them.  She felt dizzy.

 

He was looking at her intently, and she suddenly realized they were the same height.  Joshua had towered over her when he stood near her.

 

She looked down at Adahya’s lips.  Now what? they seemed to ask in return.

 

Her heart beat wildly, and she tightened her grip on his jacket for fear she would lose her balance.  She took a breath, closed her eyes, and tilted her head toward him.

 

She pressed her lips on his.  His were surprisingly soft, a harsh opposite to his hard exterior.  His mouth did not stir, and she opened her eyes.

 

He was staring down at her.

 

“You have to close your eyes,” she said against his mouth.

 

“I will not be able to see you.”

 

“That’s the idea.”

 

He closed his eyes.

 

“Now open your mouth a little.”  She was trembling.

 

He opened his mouth, and she pressed her lips tighter against his.  She feathered her tongue across his top lip, and then suckled the lower one.  His breath quickened, and instinctively, as if kissing an Indian in the middle of the forest was a usual occurrence for her, she brought her arms up around his neck.  His arms pulled her into him.  He was not returning the kiss, really, at least not with the equaled effort she was putting into the task, but his hands began moving in rhythmic patterns from her hips, up the sides of her breasts, and back down to cup her buttocks.  Warmth coiled in the pit of her stomach.  She had returned Joshua’s single kiss, but he had never held her like this, never played games like this with his hands.  She wondered what it would be like to lie with this man, this dangerous Mohawk who purportedly took scalps of white women and children.

 

With all her strength, she pushed him away.

 

“What is wrong?”

 

She did not bother to answer.  Suddenly irritated, she picked up her valise and began walking.

 

“What is wrong?”  He stepped in front of her, forcing her to stop.  The look in his eyes indicated confusion.

 

“You didn’t kiss me back,” she snapped, blinking away a swell of tears.

 

“You did not tell me I must do so.”

 

“Well, of course you must.  Those are the rules!”

 

“I will do better this time.”

 

He reached for her, but Katherine darted past him, leaving him standing alone.  Humiliation, anger, and frustration fought for dominance within her.  She wanted to hit him, kick him, hurt him so badly he could never stand again.  Exactly why, she did not know.

 

* * *

 

THEY walked at a swift pace for hours.  No one spoke, and Katherine wondered if Adahya was angry with her.  He was, after all, always angry, it seemed.  Her own irritation had faded to embarrassment.  Such a ninny she was to have thrown herself at a complete stranger and this man, in particular.

 

She had not really thrown herself at him, of course.  She had only wanted his opinion of her, so she could try to understand what Joshua must think.  Adahya was the one who had all but forced her to kiss him.  But something had happened when he had held her like that.  Something beyond words or reasoning.  She could not wait until she returned to the mission.  She would get Joshua to love her.  Somehow.  And Joshua would be the one to arouse such feelings in her.

 

As the midday sun beat down on the top of her head, she cursed herself for forgetting to bring a bonnet.  Another senseless stunt.  She swallowed, her throat dry.  She could no longer hear the stream which they had followed for miles, only the occasional lonely cry of a crow or a chickadee.  Perspiration dripped down the back of her neck.  Her high lace collar was wet and clammy, and her hair hung in limp, stringy clumps.  The hem of her skirts were torn and snagged with thorns and forest debris.  She should have brought a change of clothing.  Now she would look terrible when speaking with the British officials at Fort Ontario.

 

The Indian stopped abruptly, and a flock of passenger pigeons broke through the branches ahead of him.

 

Katherine peered over his shoulder.  Birch and hemlocks encircled a small body of water.  The tiny pond was without current and landlocked.  White blossomed lily pads floated along the surface. At the far side of the water, a heron stood on one leg, its shoulder hunched as it searched for small fish or frogs.

 

Leaning his musket against a tree, the Indian shed his jacket, weapons, possible bag and tossed them aside.  Then right before her very eyes he stripped naked and, running full speed, dove into the center of the pond.  The heron flew away as if hell were at its heels.

 

Adahya surfaced in the center of the pond.  Katherine watched in half amazement, half embarrassment as he stood in the waist-deep water and splashed and played as if he were a child.  She wondered if he had forgotten her presence.

 

He dove under a few more times and resurfaced back in the center.  He just stood there looking at her.  Water glistened from his hair, to his chest where not a hair resided, down his stomach, past his navel, and into the water where he stood naked beneath it.

 

Katherine had never seen a man like this.  Something unfamiliar stirred within her.  This man was like a rare, expensive thoroughbred horse.  Wild, untamed, perfectly masque line.  And dangerous.

 

* * *

 

ADAHYA watched her inspect him, and wondered what she thought.  Her expression was one of embarrassment, but somehow she did not look disappointed.  He smiled.

 

“Chogan.”  He did not know when he had begun calling her the Algonquin term for blackbird, but it suited her perfectly.  She was like a crow, that never stopped squawking and one could hear for miles.  Except now.

 

“Chogan, come.” 

 

She gripped her valise tighter, and he was pleased to be the cause of her sudden self-awareness.

 

“I can’t swim,” she declared.

 

“Everyone can swim.”

 

“I can’t.”

 

He frowned.  Swimming came as natural as breathing.  He had never heard of anyone being afraid of water.  Then again, he was not used to dealing with white women.  He motioned to her anyway.

 

“Adahya will not let you drown.”  He saw her look of fear and made a face.  “Not today, anyway.”

 

For a moment she simply stared at his outstretched hand.  Then, apparently having made her decision, she ordered, “Turn around.”

 

Smiling to himself, Adahya turned his back to her and listened to the faint sounds of her clothing being shed, layer by layer.

 

“Don’t turn around until I’m in the water,” she said.

 

Patiently, he complied.  He heard her enter the water and felt the waves ripple past as she moved through it.

 

“You may turn around now,” she finally said.

 

Adahya turned, and his breath caught in his chest.  The cloth covering her breasts was thin and sleeveless, revealing delicate arms and a thin, shapely neck, which he no longer ached to choke.  He had never seen a white woman in her underwear, and the sight rocked him to the core of his being.  She started to slip and unfolded her arms to balance herself on the slippery bottom, and her breasts jutted forward, her nipples hard and erect beneath the thin muslin chemise.

 

He was rock hard beneath the water.  Breathing heavy, he reached for her hand and coaxed her further into the water.

 

“I told you I can’t swim!” she complained.

 

Refusing to release her hand, he gently pulled her out deeper.  The water surfaced around their chests now.  As she took a step forward, her feet slipped from beneath her.  He grabbed her waist to steady her, and she instinctively put her arms around his neck.

 

The length of her body pressed against him.  Adahya hoped his arousal was not apparent.  Without thought, he tightened his grip on her waist.  He looked into her eyes, which he suddenly realized were the color of the sky during a snowstorm.  This woman was white--a Colonial, and therefore, an enemy--and never in his wildest dreams would he have guessed he would be in this situation.  She was not the sort of woman he would be attracted to, but at that moment she was the most beautiful, most erotic creature he had ever seen.  Knowing it was wrong yet unable to stop himself, he tilted his head and put his mouth on hers.  Following her previous instruction, he kissed her as if the white man’s way of showing affection was something he had been doing his entire life.

 

He took her mouth within his own slowly at first, surprised by the soft wetness of her lips.  Her hands went up into his hair, as she kissed him in return.  Her tongue entered his mouth, exploring and sending wild currents of red hot fire to the pit of his stomach and radiating into his loins.  Following her lead, he explored her mouth with his own tongue, his breath heavy and uncontrolled.

 

The emptiness of the last six months suddenly left him.  After Song’s abandonment, he had vowed to never take another woman, never have anything to do with them period.  Perhaps that had been a hasty decision.  Perhaps this white woman did not love Knox.  Certainly from the way she was kissing him she felt something for him.  Perhaps she could learn to enjoy being Adahya’s woman instead of Knox’s.

 

* * *

 

KATHERINE felt the length of the Indian’s arousal pressing against the waist of her bloomers.

 

She opened her eyes wide and pushed against his chest.  “Stop!” 

 

When he failed to listen, she pushed him harder.

 

He released her, and she fell backward, water rushing into her nostrils and ears.  She screamed, but water filled her mouth.  Panic gripped her.  She opened her eyes but saw only black, murky water.  Her bottom hit something hard.  She flailed and kicked.  She couldn’t breathe!  Oh, God, she couldn’t breathe!

 

A hand gripped her shoulder, and she was suddenly on her feet again.  She clutched Adahya, coughing and gagging uncontrollably. 

 

He, however, was laughing.

 

“It’s not funny!”  She wanted to strike him, but held on to keep from going under again.

 

“You must learn how to swim, Chogan.”

 

“I’m not a fish!”

 

“Good thing.”  He released his grip on her waist, but she clutched him tighter.

 

“Don’t put me down!”  Suddenly terrified of drowning, she wrapped her arms around his neck and buried her face in his wet hair.  She refused to put her feet down for fear there would be no ground beneath her.  “Take me back to shore!”

 

He carried her to shore and gently sat her down in a patch of cattails growing along the water’s edge.  In her panic, Katherine had forgotten that he was unclothed.  Now, she looked up to see him standing over her, naked in all his glory.  Her eyes unconsciously fell down the length of him.  The only hair on his entire body began at the bottom of his navel and trailed down to his manhood where it thickened considerably.

BOOK: Blackbird
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