Sweet Savage Eden (51 page)

When they untied him, he nearly fell, nearly blacked
out. He balanced himself against the pole, and he was glad to see that Pocanough was staggering too.

Jamie was led to one of the small houses near that of the chief’s. He entered in and fell to his knees. He crawled to his pallet, and as he lay there the pain began to ease. They had left something to drink by the pallet in a gourd, and he rose and swallowed the mixture. He knew it was some drug against the pain, and to help him sleep.

Still, somewhere in the night, he awoke. He did not know what had awakened him at first. The fire in the center of the sapling house had burned down very low, and the light within was eerie. He felt something, some cool, sweet breeze. He looked up and started. He came up on an elbow and stared at the apparition before him.

It was Jassy.

Jassy, with her hair soft and nearly white-gold in the firelight. Jassy, with her eyes tender and wide and seductive upon him.

Jassy … erotically naked, her skin very bronzed over the length of her body, her breasts large and firm and provocatively swaying, the nipples very large and dark. He looked at her, and he saw that her buckskin had been tossed in the corner. He wondered if she was a drug-induced dream, or if his wife could really stand so before him, inviting his thirsting eyes.

“Jassy …”

She brought her finger to her lips. Then, miraculously, she came closer. She stepped over him, her legs apart. Then very, very slowly, she lowered herself over him. She sat upon his loins, and her hair trailed over his chest as she pressed her lips against his flesh, over and over again, moving against him sinuously. He felt the hot, sensual love of her tongue, and thought that he had lost his mind. Desire burst upon him in a flood, and he rose hard and swift and tried to sweep her beneath him. Her head rose. She stared at him with her hair trailing upon him.

“No,” she said softly.

He hesitated.

Then she moved against him again.

All of her body moved and rubbed against him. She used her teeth upon his nipples and then licked them. She swept the softness of her hair over him and shimmied lower and lower against him. When she reached the fullness of his arousal, she took him into her mouth, until he did nearly lose his mind. He sank his fingers into her hair, and he pulled her against him. He brought them both to their knees, and he kissed her until she whimpered softly, then he drew his lips in drunken desire over her throat and shoulders, and he fondled her breasts and teased them with his lips and tongue and sucked them hard into his mouth. He worked upon her with a fascination, until her head fell back and she whimpered out whispers and cried of need and longing and desire … for him. Her milk spilled back onto her breasts, and he stood, dragging her to her feet. Then he did to her as she had done to him … kissing and caressing the length of her, forcing her to stand still while he ravaged her with the hunger of his lips and tongue. When she fell against him, he brought them together at long last.

And the night burst into splendor.

Nothing had ever been like this—the beauty of her seduction, the loveliness of her long, supple body in the firelight. If he dreamed, then he would gladly die in dreaming, for he had never known her touch to be so tender, so sensual, so impassioned.

And she had come to
him…
.

He moved upon her and within her, gentle and fierce, slow, and with impassioned fever. They soared to a summit together and plummeted softly back to earth in the shadow of each other’s arms. and still the fire burned softly, and the darkness cloaked them, and it was real. They were together.

She rolled against him, sobbing softly. He tugged upon her hair, bringing her around to face him. “Why are you here?” he demanded. “Has … has Powan let you come?”

“Yes.”

“Has Powan … touched you?”

“No. He has—he has taken Elizabeth.” She shuddered and buried her face against him. “I am so frightened, Jamie. I’m so very, very frightened.”

His heart hammered, and he tried to make her face him again. “Why? I swear, if I die, he will die with me.”

A shattering sob escaped her. “Oh, God, Jamie! I do not want you to die for me! I have brought you nothing but misery and—”

He gripped her hair so fiercely that she cried out, but he had silenced her, and he spoke swiftly and vehemently. “You have brought me everything. You have given me Daniel—”

“Daniel!”

“Rest easy, he is loved and well. Jassy, if I die, I swear that Pocanough will die too. Appeal to Powan as the child’s mother and he will let you go to Daniel. I know him well.”

She sobbed against the sleek, bare dampness of his chest. “And he knows you, too, for you are here. Oh, Jamie …”

He lifted her above him and spoke, his passion naked in his taut features and in his voice. “Love me again, Jassy. Love me before the dawn threatens and you must go back.”

She did. Again and again. Until the first pink light of dawn rose and she slipped back into her buckskin dress and tiptoed back into Powan’s sapling house. Jamie did not sleep that night. He did not need to.

In the morning he was brought to bathe again. The Indians would all eat their breakfast, and then they would gather for the fight. Jamie did not see Jassy, not until he was led out before the crowd, barefoot, bare-chested, and unarmed.

She was seated on the ground before Powan and beside Elizabeth. The chief’s hands rested on the two blond heads. Elizabeth tried to smile encouragingly. Jassy did not try. Her eyes were in torment.

Hope came up to him. She smiled, too, and Jamie knew that the half-breed girl believed in him with all her
heart. He smiled in return. Hope gave him the short-bladed knife with which he was to fight. The blades were short, to make the battle longer—it would not be easy to give a mortal blow.

Then he faced Pocanough across the circle. A chanting rose on the air. Powan stood and spoke again. Then he dropped his arm, and the fight was on.

Pocanough did not wait a second. Snarling like a bear, he burst for Jamie, casting him off-balance. Both men came down to the ground, writhing and rolling and viciously attempting to stab each other. Pocanough’s knife skimmed Jamie’s back where the wounds from the night before lay open and vulnerable. Jamie nearly screamed. He kicked and bucked and sent Pocanough flying across the circle. He leapt to his feet and followed the brave. Falling upon him again.

Both had been smeared with bear grease, and it was impossible to get a hold upon the Indian. Jamie decided to break away, and regain his footing. He did so, and balancing carefully on the balls of his feet, he awaited the Indian’s next move.

Pocanough leapt high and came down upon Jamie, smashing both of his feet against his chest. The air went out of him, and he fell, stunned and dazed, unable to move.

Then he heard her scream.

He looked up and saw that Pocanough was coming upon him now with the sure fire of triumph in his eyes, his knife raised and aimed directly for Jamie’s heart.

In a split second Jamie rolled. The Indian smashed into the earth. Without a second thought Jamie swirled after him, implanting his blade with force between the cleft of the warrior’s shoulder blades.

Pocanough raised his head back in a dying scream of rage and agony that ended in a peculiar gurgling sound.

Then he fell face forward into the dirt.

Jamie staggered over to the chief. He fell to his knees. He looked Powan in the eyes. “I claim my wife and her sister,” he said. Then he pitched forward, too, exhausted,
wondering numbly if the very blackness of death itself was not seeping into him.

“Jamie!”

She called his name and fell down beside him, cradling his head into her lap. He opened his eyes and saw the tears in hers, and he smiled. Then he closed his eyes, and the darkness claimed him.

He slept until nightfall, and in his restless sleep he wondered again what had been real and what had been a dream.

When he opened his eyes again, she was there.

She was real.

He came up quickly on an elbow. He reached out to touch her. “Jassy …”

“You need rest. You need to sleep.”

He shook his head, rising quickly. He was naked, he quickly realized, but his own European trousers were near his head. He quickly stumbled into them. “I don’t want to sleep. I want to go home. I want to take you away from here.”

“Jamie—”

“I want to go now.” He caught her slender chin within his hands, wondering if the love and the tenderness and the passion could possibly be real too. “I am all right, Jassy, I swear it. I want to mount Windwalker and go home. Get Elizabeth.”

Jassy left him and went into Powan’s house, looking for her sister. She noticed that her palms were trembling and damp, now that it was over. The trial was over.…

Life was yet to be lived.

She found that Elizabeth was sitting before the chief’s fire, studying the flames. Jassy hugged her. “We can go home now, Elizabeth. We can go.”

Elizabeth studied her curiously, then shook her head ruefully, her blue eyes filling with tears. “I’m not going with you, Jassy.”

“What?”

“I’m going to have Powan’s baby. I don’t think that they would care for my child back at the settlement.”

“Don’t be absurd. They will love your child! I will love your child and—”

Elizabeth laughed, touching her hand. “Yes, Jassy, you have so much wonderful passion and strength, and if you demanded it, no doubt, the people would all come to love my child. But …” She hesitated and spoke in a bare whisper. “I was always so afraid of men, and the world, and everything and anything at all. And now I am not afraid anymore. Jassy, don’t laugh. Please don’t laugh. I think that I love him. He will marry me, and he says that he will not need any other wives. Jassy, I am home. Please, please try to understand, and try to love me, anyway.”

“Oh, Elizabeth, I will love you forever!” Jassy promised her. They cast themselves into each other’s arms and hugged and cried. Jamie and Powan found them so together, and neither of the men had a word to say.

An hour later it was growing dark, but Jamie and Jassy were on the trail, mounted together upon Windwalker. Jassy had thought busily for the last hour of a way to start speaking. Jamie had cleared his throat a dozen times.

At last he found words. “Are you sure that you’re all right?”

“I was never harmed,” she promised him. She leaned back against him. She savored the warm strength of his chest, and she found incredible comfort in his arms, wrapped around her.

“Jassy …” He paused, and he sounded humble. She had not thought that he could ever sound so. “Jassy, if you wish it, I will take you home.”

“But we are going home.”

“I will take you to England. I will have to leave again, but I will never force
you
to stay here again. I had never imagined anything such as this massacre.…” His voice trailed away. They both knew then that hundreds of the English settlers had been slain throughout the Virginia colony. One of the greatest tragedies was that John Rolfe, the widower of the Princess Pocahontas, had been slain
by his wife’s own people. Thankfully their young son remained behind in England and had come to no harm. “I don’t want you to have to be afraid again,” he whispered to her. “I don’t want you to be in danger again.”

She twisted around, looking up at him. She touched his cheek, growing dark with the growth of beard. “I am not afraid,” she said.

“I will see you safely home.”

She hesitated, then pulled in on Windwalker’s reins herself. She threw her leg over the horse’s haunches, leapt to the ground, and stared up at him indignantly.

“Why did you come after me, my great Lord Cameron, just to get rid of me?”

“I said that—”

She smiled suddenly, thinking of her sister’s words, and she interrupted him curtly. “You married me, Cameron, and you’ll not get rid of me so easily. I
am
home!”

“What?” He raised a doubtful brow and stared down at her. To his amazement she cast a wicked blow against his thigh. “I am your
wife
. I have a right to stay, and I intend to.” She hesitated and added more softly. “I am home, Jamie,
I am home
.”

He leapt down from the horse, taking her by the shoulders, the fires of hope leaping into his eyes. “We have no house!” he said harshly. “Except for the brick cornerstone foundations, we have nothing left. Nothing at all.”

She bit her lip, aware that tears threatened to spill from her eyes. “If we have the foundation, haven’t we really got everything that we need?”

His fingers clasped her arms so tightly that the grip was painful, but she did not cry out or protest. She studied the burning heat and tension in his eyes, and she began to tremble beneath his hold.

“You really would stay?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Why?” she repeated.

“Why?” he thundered, and there was no mercy in him. He was as hard and ruthless as she had ever seen him.

She wrenched away from him, the tears spilling from her eyes at last. Her nails dug into her palms, and she shouted back, “Because I—because I love you, you stupid, arrogant knave!”

“What?” he thundered again, coming toward her. She gasped, wondering if he meant to shake the insolence from her, but when she would have fled, he caught her about the waist and spun her around. She struggled against his hold, and they both landed hard upon the dirt. He straddled her and caught her wrists, then pulled them high above her head, laughing. “Tell me. Tell me again!”

“Stupid, arrogant—”

“No!”

“You told me—”

“The other. Tell me the other. Damn it, say!”

The tears were in her eyes again. She wanted to shout. She whispered, “I love you, Jamie.”

“Again.”

“I love you.”

His lips fell upon hers. Sweet, hungry, exciting, evocative. He kissed her with a fascinating leisure for their curious position upon the forest trail. He kissed her as if nothing else in the world mattered, and maybe, beneath the green shadows of the forest, nothing else did. And when he ended the kiss, his smile so tender and gentle, she cried out and threw her arms around him again. He held her so for a long time without speaking, then he ran his thumb softly over her cheek and whispered to her at last. “Can you really love me?”