Savage Destiny (The Hearts of Liberty Series, Book 1) (49 page)

"I'm cold," she told him.

As her lower lip began to tremble, Hunter's suspicions dissolved instantly, for it was painfully clear that she hadn't been avoiding him out of spite. He could see the grief that had sculpted the stillness of her pose reflected in the sorrow of her gaze, and knew that while he had worked so hard to get well, she had been silently mourning the love they had lost. He pulled her to her feet and led her to the shore, where he hurriedly helped her out of her wet dress. He tugged his shirt off over his head, and used it to pat her dry.

"You're supposed to remove your clothes before you wash them," he scolded. "Did you forget that?"

Unable to recall how she had gotten wet, Alanna just shook her head. It was very pleasant having Hunter touch her. It felt like love, even though she knew it wasn't, and she relaxed against him, unwittingly encouraging attentions of an entirely different nature.

Hunter's conscience told him that this was neither the time nor the place to make love to Alanna, but he was deaf to the voice of reason. He didn't care if they had differences that could never be reconciled, when her fragile beauty touched him so deeply. He wanted to take her for his wife, to make her feel cherished, as he knew no other man ever could. He drew her down into the grass, and covered her dear face with adoring kisses.

"I've missed you," he murmured. He removed her chemise and drawers, and then warmed her cool skin with fevered kisses. He could count her ribs easily, and feared she might not have survived many more days without him. "You were never meant to be alone," he swore. "You were born to be mine."

Lost in a dreamlike wonder, Alanna held him in a languid embrace. She loosened his hair and pressed his face close, as he suckled at her breast. As always, his slightest touch filled her with joy, and she soon felt as though her heart might burst with happiness.

Meaning to at last thoroughly quench his desires, Hunter ran his hand over her hip and down her thigh, but when she flinched, he sat up to see what was wrong. The deep purple bruise on her knee told him. "Did you fall on the rocks? Is that how you got all wet?"

Rather than reply, Alanna ran her hand up his arm, silently encouraging him to complete what he had begun. He leaned down to kiss the bruise, and then slipped off his moccasins, so he could remove his breechclout and leggings more easily. Now nude, he again stretched out beside her and pulled her close. She was so slender, her body seemed almost to melt into his. Her skin was still cool, but gradually warmed beneath his caress.

His ebony mane fell across her breasts, and slid over her stomach as he fit the tip of his tongue into her navel. He wanted to hear her giggle, but succeeded only in drawing a small sigh of contentment from her lips. Inspired to take so much more, he again kissed her bruised knee, then licked a narrow trail up the soft incline of her inner thigh. He had pleasured her before with a delicate touch, and she did not draw away when he slid his fingers into her again.

He rubbed his cheek against her knee, deftly parting her legs, and kept up his gentle explorations. Her lithe body had an inviting perfume, and he leaned closer to savor her scent.

Nothing could stop him now; he took a firm hold of her so she could not slip away, as he dipped low to sample her taste. Rather than object, Alanna tilted her hips to encourage him to drink more deeply.

Entranced by the sweetness of her surrender, Hunter hastened to make her his own before the beauty they shared lost any of its magic. He had regained the grace to enable him to teach her what making love should be, and he hoped the inevitable pain of their initial union would be fleeting. At his first deep thrust, she clung to him rather than draw away, her anguish blurred by the ecstasy he had so tenderly nurtured.

He lost himself in that rapture now, and knowing how deeply it was shared gave him the greatest satisfaction he had ever found in a woman's arms. The bond forged between them by sorrow was now tempered by passion's flames, and for a brief instant they were truly one. It wasn't until much later that the contrast between Alanna's small white hand and his deeply bronzed chest prompted him to remember how different they truly were.

Chapter 22

Not wanting Alanna to become chilled after he had gone to such exquisite lengths to warm her, Hunter slipped his buckskin shirt over her head, before donning his breechclout and leggings. He then pulled her back into his arms and gave her an exuberant hug. "I know you want to go home, but we need time to be alone together. Let's stay here a few more days."

Alanna wasn't sure whether or not his suggestion required her approval, but she did not even want to think about standing up, let alone beginning the trip back to Virginia. She snuggled against him, enjoying both the softness of his shirt and the smoothness of his bare chest. In a thoughtful mood, she made a prediction.

"I'm afraid the forest is the only place we'll ever feel at home."

Hunter sat up slightly and combed her curls off her face with his fingertips. He leaned down to nibble her earlobe playfully, before he replied, "The forest isn't the only place we can live happily. William Johnson is married to a Mohawk woman, and given his affection for the Iroquois, no one was surprised by his choice. I can name many other trappers with Indian wives. I also know Indian braves with white wives." Hunter chose not to add that most of those women had been raised with their husband's tribe, rather than with white families as Alanna had.

"There will always be people who say we don't belong together, but as long as you and I believe that we do, we needn't listen." He kissed her eyelids and the tip of her nose before savoring her berry-flavored lips. "I know we belong together, don't you?"

Alanna reached up to touch his hair. Warmed by the sun, the sable strands spilled through her fingers like silken threads. "I've never felt as though I belonged with another man," she revealed hesitantly.

That was scarcely the enthusiastic vow of undying love Hunter longed to hear, but considering how distracted she had been when he had found her, he thought himself lucky that she was able to provide any kind of a coherent response. "That's because you were meant for me," he assured her, and the sweetness of her smile encouraged affection that could be conveyed without words. Slow, tender, he again made certain he pleased her, so that she would always welcome his affection.

Later, when she slept in his arms, Hunter gazed up at the clouds and tried to imagine what his life would be now that he had a wife. He would no longer be alone, which he saw as an advantage. He would not be able to come and go as he pleased, but he doubted he would want to stray with Alanna waiting for him at home. The temptation would be to take her so deep into the forest that they would inhabit a private world, but he knew she needed not only him, but her own kind as well.

Recalling how she had gone out to the stable each morning, he knew she would want to own horses. The hides he had gathered were valuable, and he had saved all of his winnings from fighting. He could afford to buy her whatever she liked. Next winter, he would have a reason to work harder, and he would spend more time trapping. If Alanna did not distract him too badly. Certain that she would, he laughed to himself, as she began to stir.

"I didn't mean to wake you. Are you hungry?"

Hunter's charming smile conveyed his high spirits, and Alanna hesitated to interject her worries, but she could no longer deny them. She sat up and took a deep breath. "Yes, I am hungry, but there's something I need to ask before we look for food. I left you because I couldn't bear to hear you say such vile things about Christian. You came to find me. Does that mean you've changed your mind about raising him?"

His shirt was much too large for her, lending her the tragic air of the orphan she had once been, but her level gaze showed a determination he had to admire. She deserved an honest reply, and he gave it. "No. I came to tell you that I would sign whatever statement you wished, so that you could raise the boy, but that I wanted nothing more to do with either of you."

Unable to reconcile that dreary confession with his abundant affection, Alanna was understandably confused. "I don't recall your saying anything of the kind before you made love to me."

Hunter's stomach twisted into a hard knot of dread, for he had known he ought not to take her innocence with such an important dispute left unsettled. He had known it, and had selfishly done it anyway. Now she had every right to feel betrayed. He had put his desires before hers, or the welfare of a child. He had had such high hopes, but he had not been a good husband to her for even one day. He squared his shoulders, and tried to undo the damage he had done the lovely young woman he wanted for his wife.

"I've lived among white men for nearly ten years, and I'm ashamed of how long it took me to learn I was more often used than respected. I admired Byron and Elliott, and was proud to call them my friends, but I think now they were merely impressed with my tracking ability. I felt out of place in your home, but I was so flattered that Melissa wanted me, I didn't realize I was no more than an attractive savage, a curiosity, to her. I think now she meant only to tease me, but Christian was the result. Had she cared anything at all for me, she would have sent for me, so I could have become her husband rather than Ian.

"It's not fair of you to ask me to raise that woman's child, when she refused to name me as the father. I can't do it, not after the way she laughed at me and threatened me."

His manner bore no trace of the strident arrogance he had shown, when she and Elliott had arrived at the trading post. Instead, he was being remarkably forthright. Alanna could see how badly he had been hurt, not merely by Melissa, but also in other apparently painful dealings with whites. It was no wonder he had grown cold and suspicious, if he frequently felt others were taking advantage of him. She reached out to touch his knee.

"You're wrong about Byron and Elliott. They both valued your friendship, and were disappointed when you left so hurriedly last summer. As for Melissa, I'll make no apologies for her behavior, when clearly it was unforgivable, but Christian ought not to be punished for her mistakes."

Hunter had been too badly hurt to view his son's situation with her logic, and refused to concede the point. "What about his grandparents? What do they say?"

"I'm ashamed to tell you how they've behaved. They've never held Christian, never gone to see him, never sent him any clothes or gifts. They want you to take him, so they can forget he exists."

"So Melissa's disgrace will die with her?"

Alanna hated to admit that he was right. "Yes, they would have been equally heartbroken regardless of the circumstances of her death, but that she wasn't the virtuous young woman they believed her to be, clouds her memory and deepens their pain."

Hunter saw things far more personally. "It's not her lack of virtue that shames them, but the fact I am Indian. When you introduce me as your husband, will they be ashamed of you as well?"

That he would continue to refer to himself as her spouse gave Alanna a burst of hope that, despite their disagreement over Christian, they might still be able to have a shared future. Her mood remained downcast, however. "They'll be so grief-stricken over Elliott's death, that whatever I do won't matter."

Hunter had forgotten they would have to impart that sad news. He did not want to become distracted by it now either. "You told me there was a woman caring for Christian. Won't she keep him?"

"Permanently, you mean?"

"Yes, until he's grown."

"She's a young widow who cares for infants to support her three children. She's very good with Christian, very attentive, but I don't know if she would agree to raise him."

"We could pay her. I earn more money than most white men."

He was a proud man, and she was touched he would take such great pains to talk with her calmly. She had seen a fair sample of how hard and ruthless he could be, and she was grateful he had not chosen to display that side of his personality with her. "What about your family? Would your parents take Christian?"

That was an option Hunter refused to consider. "My father is dead, and I wouldn't ask my mother's husband to raise a dog."

Alanna was shocked by the vehemence of his tone. "Don't you plan to take me home to meet your family?"

Hunter shrugged. "I thought about visiting them before you came, but I didn't really want to go. When my father died, everything changed. When my mother took a second husband, I left. Perhaps someday I'll take you to meet my people, but for now, you are all the family I want."