Ride The Wild Wind (Time Travel Historical Romance) (27 page)

Halle walked the
perimeter of the hexagonal shaped, domed roofed house, surveying the pots and
utensils and a few other odd items. “Whose house is this?”

Silence. She wheeled
to find him still leaning in the doorway, his large dark form filling most of
the space.

“Do you approve?”

 She shook her
head, not understanding his question, but her heart skidded to a thump as the
realization of what he’d done washed over her.
Oh, no. He couldn’t have.

 He stood by
silent, his gaze averted. Was this why he’d been absent from camp? He’d been
building a home? She glanced overhead at the heavy cross beams in the ceiling,
then around her where thick clay was chinked between the log walls. Not a speck
of sunlight filtered through the thickness. How had he done this without a
hammer and nails?

Halle moved toward a
wall and touched her fingertips to the fresh wood, imagining his hands shaving
away the bark and setting the logs in place. The craftsmanship was remarkable.
She turned toward him and the look in his eyes told it all. “You did all this?”

He nodded. “For you.”

She gestured to the bruise
on his side. “And you hurt yourself building this house.”

He grinned. “I had a
brief scuffle with a log. As you can see, it won.”

Words would not form
in her mouth. Tani had once told her that Navajo wives owned the home and
everything in it, including the children, even if a couple divorced. Yet
Antonio had built her this beautiful house, unsure whether she would marry him.
That he would do this for her—that anyone cared enough to give her a home—was
overwhelming.

She’d never told him
of her childhood spent in foster care. How did he know how much having her own
home meant? She bit down on her quivering lip to keep from bawling like a baby.
“And you thought I was going to marry One Eye.”

He looked away.
“Yes.”

Now she really did
feel like crap. No, like a mean heartless bitch. She sniffed hard and wiped
away tears that sprang into her eyes.

“No matter what
happens between us, Halle, whether you marry me or not, the house and
everything in it is yours. It is my gift.”

She crumbled. “I can’t
accept this.”

“Why? Do you not find
the home acceptable?”

She gaped at him. Was
he kidding? The house was fabulous. Way more than ‘acceptable.’ The fact he’d
built it for her with his own hands made it even more incredible. “It’s
perfect.”

The love in his eyes
for her was unmistakable. Warmth crept over her breasts and abdomen as desire
flared within. She knew Antonio did love her. He must. Still, why couldn’t he
say the words she longed to hear? Better yet, why couldn’t she?

She eyed the piece of
hide covering the doorway. “Can you somehow close that thingy?”

He ducked out of the
doorway and dropped the flap.

“No, don’t leave!”

The hide lifted and
he popped his head around the doorway, a wicked twinkle in his eyes. “I thought
you wanted me to go away.”

“I never said that.”
She nibbled her lower lip, then glanced toward the bed of hides and blankets,
then back to him. “Stay. I want to make love again.”

He dropped the door’s
covering and began to unlace his buckskins.

Halle awoke in his
arms a few hours later, her back pressed to his solid chest, his dark, muscled
arm around her midsection—his thighs tucked beneath hers. And the new erection
he’d been growing in his sleep nestled against her rump. They hadn’t fully made
love this last time, but had instead explored and pleasured one another.

    
“I want to stay here forever and make love with you six times a day.”

“Six times a day?” He
chuckled. “No man has such stamina, and I am certainly not young enough to even
try to keep up.”

Halle scoffed at his
remark. At thirty, Antonio wasn’t old, or at least not by her time period’s
standards. Besides, he was in great physical shape. How well she knew.

He caressed her hip.
“There is something I have intended to ask. You are tattooed. What does this
mean—R.T.W.W. His fingertips lightly touched the quarter sized tattoo on her
hip encased within a red heart.

“I got it when I was
fifteen. I went wild that year. Dyed my hair red, bought a fake I.D. and went
to a tattoo parlor. The initials, R.T.W.W. are an abbreviation for Ride the
Wild Wind. It was my favorite song from Queen back then—kind of a theme song
for my life at the time.”

“Which queen sang the
song?” he asked.

Halle bit back a
grin. “Not a queen as in a monarch. Queen is a singing group from a very long time
ago.”

“I have never heard
this song.”

“I know.” She turned
and propped herself on one elbow to looked at him. A bit of afternoon light
filtered through the center hole in the hogan’s roof and glinted off the golden
highlights of his shoulder length hair. He was a beautiful man from head to toe
and all delicious points in between. She reached over to brush a few wayward
strands of hair from his face.

“Tell me what is this
‘ride the wild wind’ song is about?”

“Well…” She shifted
to make herself more comfortable. “It’s about a rebel who lives life on his own
terms and the woman he whisks away from her boring existence to experience an
adventure. Together they ride the wild wind.”

“Will you sing it to
me?”

“No way. If I sing,
half this camp will come running with guns to shut me up.”

He chuckled, then his
face grew serious again. “I recall you had a confession to make earlier. Now
might be a good time.”

Oh, no it wasn’t.
She’d hoped he had forgotten about that slip of the tongue. The timing was
wrong. If she revealed her true identity—and that she’d come from the
future—he’d think she was a nut case. She wouldn’t ruin things when this moment
between them was perfect.

“Oh, that? Forget it.
No big deal.”

“You can tell me
anything.”

She couldn’t. Not yet
anyway. She might have before he’d brought her here, before he’d proved how
much he loved her by building her this beautiful home and making love to her in
ways beyond her imaginings.

He leaned over and
nipped at her shoulder. Halle shivered as he kissed a sensuous trail down her
arm. He pressed her down to the soft, furry hides, his erection settling
between her thighs.  Primal was the only word that described the feeling
of being possessed by him. Holding himself up on one hand, he reached up and smoothed
the hair away from her shoulders.

“You are so
beautiful.”

 Hallie snorted.
“You need eyeglasses.”

“I need
you.
”

He dipped his head,
his warm lips replacing fingertips. Desire sparked as he nipped the flesh of
her shoulder. He did it again, a low, deep chuckle escaping as if he delighted
in the knowledge that he held her captive. Breathless, Halle arched her back,
reveling in the sensual kisses he planted along her collarbone. As he edged
downward to her breasts, one hand slipped between her thighs. She winced as he
stroked her intimately but soon the soreness dissipated, replaced by pleasure.

“I want you, Antonio.
Really really bad.”

“I want you again,
too, but your body needs time to heal.”

Oh, no it didn’t.
She’d
heal another day. “It’s all right,” she reassured him.  Although she was
still sore from the first round, she didn’t want this magical moment to end.

He stilled, then
reached beneath the pallet to retrieve a small clay pot.

“Perhaps this will
ease any discomfort.” He dipped two fingertips into what appeared to be
ointment, then applied the soothing, odorless cream to her intimate areas.

 Afterward, he
lifted her, positioned her atop him. Halle’s eyes widened as he filled her by
degrees.

“Comfortable?”

The word ‘comfortable’ didn’t adequately describe the pleasure but she
nodded. Smiling, he pressed deeper and she leaned forward slightly to brace her
palms against
his chest.
She closed her eyes, savored the feeling of
fullness.  Nothing had ever felt so good.

She gasped as he began to rock upward.

“Shall I stop?”

“Don’t you dare.” She rode his rollicking movements. “I freaking love
this position!”

His eyes glittered as he gave a series of hard, upward thrusts. “Then
ride the wild wind with me, Halle.”

Antonio savored the feel of the taut muscles of her body caressing him,
drawing him in deeper into the tight, slick recess of her womanhood. She was
incredibly small but the differences in their size only seemed to enhance their
pleasure. When she climaxed a final time, he grasped her by the hips, stilling
her as his seed burst forth.

She lay upon his chest afterward, their bodies still joined, her head
tucked beneath his chin, her warm breasts crushed to his belly.

“Oh my God, that was sooo nice,” she murmured.

“Better than the first time?”

“Mmm-hmmm.”

He drew a blanket to cover their nakedness, then nuzzled her soft,
tousled hair as her heartbeat continued to pound over the roar of his own.
 He held her snug until she fell asleep, then eased from her body and laid
her beside him.  On his side, he watched her sleep for the longest time,
remembering every moment from the day he found her dying in the arroyo until
now. 

While he didn’t know if she would marry him, even after all that had
transpired today, he hadn’t built the hogan to ensure her love. He wanted her
to have a home and roots, something she never appeared to know in her young
life.

    
He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and bent to kiss her cheek. He knew
so much about her, yet so little. Since she never spoke of having a family, or
wanting to return to them, he supposed they were deceased. Either that or she
had run away from an unendurable situation.

      
While he hadn’t meant to drag her into this untenable situation between the Navajos
and the government, what was done was done. As his lover, she was deeply
involved and could be implicated in his crimes should he be apprehended.

       
He blew out a breath of frustration. No. That would never happen. Even as his
wife—that is, if she agreed to marry him—he’d take great care to assure she
would never be linked to him. If captured, he would deny that he knew her—even
under the duress of torture.

    
  He turned on to his back and rested a forearm over his eyes. 
But what if she did not accept his marriage proposal? They could not simply
cohabitate within the
Dine
village. His maternal family would frown upon
such behavior, not to mention Halle would have no rights afforded a Navajo
wife. In The People’s eyes, she would possess no more status than a slave. But
how could he let her go to another man should she choose that path?

He had been the first man inside her body, and now had branded her with
the possibility of new life. It was a selfish wish, but he hoped his seed would
take hold and give him a
child. Not one to replace the daughter he lost,
but a child with
this
woman—the woman he now loved more than his own
life. His breath caught in his throat at the image of Halle holding their babe
to her breast.

“No. I will not let you go,” he whispered as he stroked her soft hair.
“I have staked my claim on you woman.”

She stirred, her eyes fluttering open. “Antonio?”

“I am here.”

“I’ve been dreaming about something.”

Such could be dangerous
. “And about what have you been dreaming?”

“Marrying you.”

He froze. Was this her way of telling him she accepted?  “Have you
made a decision?”

“Yep.”

He held his breath, waited.

“I do want to marry you.”

 He pulled her against him and kissed the top of her head. “Then I
will make the arrangements.”

She pulled back to look at him, a puzzled expression on her face.
“Antonio, do you hear that?”

At her mention, he did. The low rolling thunder of hooves in the
distance. His skin goose fleshed. He lay still, not breathing for a moment,
listening.

“What is that?” she whispered.

Horses.

“Get dressed.” He sprang to his feet, grabbed his pants and rolled to
his feet as a sick feeling hit him in the gut. Most of the men in camp had left
for a two-day hunt and he feared soldiers were about to ambush the encampment.
Women and children were defenseless without guns in the event of a surprise
attack.

He tossed her moccasins to her. Hurry.” He strapped the Colt to his
thigh. “Soldiers have arrived.”

“Oh my God! We have to find the children!” She threw on the dress
haphazardly, not bothering to sash it. “And Max! He’ll get frightened and run
away! He might get trampled by the horses!” She sprinted toward the door but
Antonio caught her by the wrist and pulled her backward, causing them both to
tumble down to the blankets again. “Stay here. I will  bring the children
here—Max, too.”

“Oh, no, mister. I’m not staying behind. I’m going with you!”

He seized her by the shoulders and gave her a quick, sobering shake.
“This is not the time to be stubborn! You could be killed!”

Tears gathered in her eyes and she lifted a hand and touched his cheek
with trembling fingertips. “And you could get killed, too.”

Cradling her face in his hands, he kissed her hard. “Halle? ”

Her gaze locked with his. “Yeah?”

He almost told her he loved her.  He memorized her child-like face,
the soft curves of her flushed cheeks, the sparse sprinkling of pale freckles
across her sun-reddened nose. He had lost one wife and child to the soldiers,
and nearly a son. But, damn them they would not hurt this woman if he could
prevent it.

Before she could protest, he flipped her onto her belly and pulled both
her hands behind her back to lash her wrists together with leather cord.