The Bearwalker's Daughter (11 page)

More compelling than anything, though, was the cadence pulsing inside, the insistent beat born of a deep-seated yearning Jack hadn’t even realized he harbored to have far more of a woman’s love than he’d ever known. From the dawn of time, this intoxicating rhythm had waylaid many a man, but he’d resisted the siren song. Until Karin.

He envisioned himself enveloped in her warmth, romping laughter filled with her giggles, her seeking lips...turning over and over in each other’s arms molded against her smooth skin…her moans of ecstasy, his. What joy it would be to wake and find her curled by his side. And someday, having their children hurl themselves at him when he came home. Most of all, having a real home.

For nearly as long as Jack could remember, he’d been a warrior, soldier, frontiersman, and mostly content with his lot. Now he was in a volatile state of upheaval. The essence of everything he desired was huddled on the bearskin before the hearth, her face carefully averted from the flames for fear they might spring to life again.

This fearfulness wasn’t the mood he’d hoped to create. Again, he silently cursed Shequenor. Why must that old he-bear sire such a captivating daughter, and then warn Jack away from her? Unless he proved himself, Shequenor said. What did that mean?

Karin lifted her bewildered gaze to his in search of answers he was hard-pressed to give. Still, it fascinated him how her eyes altered with her mood, bluer when happy, as she’d been during the ride here on Peki, while gray mixed in like pewter skies when she was troubled. Judging by the storm-veiled haze there now, she was mightily weighted. He wasn’t exactly easy in his mind either, but bent on avoiding Shequenor’s demand that he return with her in tow.

What on earth should he do? First, feed them both. She was too distracted to bother about food. Then wait out the night here. Rain no longer pelted the cabin. Wind-scattered clouds had flown, reminding him of the thunderbirds Shawnee said beat their wings among the clouds to cause the booms in the storm, their flashing eyes, the streaks of lightning. Eerie light emanated from the necklace at Karin’s throat like some all-seeing eye.

Keeping these thoughts to himself, Jack said, “The stream will still be too high to ford. There’s nothing for it than to stay put. I’m sorry.”

She nodded, apprehension in her face at remaining one more moment in this place.

There’d be the devil to pay upon their return to the McNeal homestead, and Jack was doomed either way. But he’d have to be senseless to complain. Letting himself feast on the vision before him, he settled on the thick fur beside her, a trencher in each hand. The fire blazed with fresh kindling. She didn’t really need the mantle she’d retrieved from the peg, yet she shivered, her eyes scouring every corner.

“Here.” Jack extended the square platter.

She absently took the trencher. “Do you think he’s really gone?”

“Shequenor delivered his message. One hell of a way to do it. But yes, he’s gone.” Jack tore a piece from the meat and held it to her lips. “Taste this.”

Karin obliged him by chewing the tidbit. That went better than he’d expected. He found himself thankful for the obedience she’d been taught by the McNeals and doubtless his mother. He could draw on this instinctive response if she regarded him as an authority.

“It will be all right. I’m not sure how, but it will,” he assured her, pleased when she edged nearer until her shoulder pressed his side and her arm rested against his. The heat from her body penetrated the cloth between them and his warmed her in turn. The bulk of her wonderful hair had come loose and it spilled over her in an excruciatingly beautiful tide.

“Eat,” Jack prompted her, fighting the impulse to run his fingers through the black wealth.

She picked up a portion of the pheasant and bit into the meat, chewing with more relish. “Delicious.”

“There. See?” He wolfed down his share, licking the juice from his fingers and chasing the meal with fiery swallows from the flask. He gave Karin a shot to steady her, then stood and ambled to the wall to tuck the flask in his coat pocket. He turned to see her wipe her mouth with the back of her hand.

Here, her innate obedience was at odds with Jack. “If John McNeal, or any of your relations, sees it, we’re done for. At least, I am, for bringing you here and helping you find it in the first place.”

A hesitant nod, and she said, “I wouldn’t want you to suffer on my account. You keep it for me then.”

She lifted the necklace from around her neck. The stone glistened in a shimmer of opalescent blue and the claws seemed to scratch at the very air. She hurriedly slid it into his pouch. Had Jack’s imagination leapt to new heights or did the gem actually burn through the buckskin at his waist?

Masking his incredulity, he smiled. “Good. If you must speak of the bear, simply say a large male attacked the cabin. That’s enough to explain your fright.”

“Yes, he was. So, you needn’t be so frightened.” Jack laid his vessel beside hers and circled his arm around her bundled form. He drew her nearer, gratified when she nestled against him. “I will guard you, Karin.”

“From Shequenor?”

“From anyone, but especially him if need be.”

“Suffering drove him to black magic.” She spoke with the empathy of one seeing beyond herself deeply into another. “He’s more powerful than you, Jack.”

Everything Jack wanted in a woman poised only a breath away. God forgive him, he couldn’t help himself. Lifting his hand, he circled her cheek, smoothing her dewy skin. “You are so lovely,” he whispered, and trailed his fingers through her glorious mane. “Kiss me.”

She stared at him for moments, minutes? He lost track of time, lost as he was in her. Then she seemed to come to a decision. Her eyes drifted shut and she tilted her face nearer, nearer...the heavens opened and a heavenly choir poured celestial chords into his heart as she closed her lips over his waiting mouth. Rapture. And she’d come to him.

Welcoming her with all the tenderness he had, he cradled her to him. Here was wealth beyond all riches. Harder he pressed her mouth, tugging at her lower lip and her upper, then reclaiming all, and she returned the heated pressure without protest.

He caught her to him in a flood of molten fire. Could this be? What defined reality that Jack held such a woman in a passionate embrace?

Back her head arched as he kissed her. Oh, how he tasted her sweet mouth, having care not to alarm her. Then he drew her down onto the bearskin, claiming her lips as he undid the cloak at her throat. The mantle fell away and she sighed as he buried his face in her neck, tasting the silken curve beckoning to him unbearably. Flowery perfume like a thousand blossoms tempted him even further and he kissed down her throat, spreading goosebumps over her flushed skin.

Before him, the top of her tantalizing breasts curved above her bodice, damn near overpowering. He could unlace those stays in seconds and the petticoats, gone just as fast—the shift easily banished—then hold her naked in his arms as he’d dreamed.

Hunger seized him like a wolf ravening his gut and his manhood swelled with an obdurate design of its own.
Take
her
now.
Take
all
! She’d not refuse him.

No
! He shook his head, trying to fight off this insanity.

What was he thinking? How in heaven’s name could he ravish an angel?

He drew back and looked at her rose-blushed mouth parted under the heat of his kiss. Her eyes opened, bluer than he’d yet seen...trusting, wanting.

A popping in the fire caught her ear and she turned her head to the side. Then Jack saw it—the mark on her neck he’d missed. That strawberry-colored half-moon branded her as Shequenor’s daughter as surely as if he’d held a fire iron to her baby skin at birth. Hadn’t the warrior the very same mark on his shoulder?

If resisting temptation here and now were part of Shequenor’s test, Jack would not fail. Sitting farther back on his heels, he drew husky breaths to steady the hammering in his heart and his groin. This was the toughest thing he’d ever done, the hardest battle ever fought, bar none.

Unaware of his struggle, Karin reached for him. Closing her arms around his neck, she drew him back down to her…like sliding into the irresistible warmth of a heated spring.

Maybe just one more kiss.

Poised above, arms wrapping her, he settled his lips over her wanting mouth. Senses reeling, he pressed her for more, his tongue dancing against hers in an age-old rhythm.

****

Reeling under the delights of Jack’s mouth, Karin struggled to reason with the shred of propriety she had left. What on earth had possessed her to pull him back down over her like a lover?

She knew little of the sensual exchange between a man and woman, but this much was inherent in her gesture, her utterly wanton gesture. No one had prepared her for the brazen need mounting in her, or the shivers prickling to the most unladylike parts of her anatomy. There was nothing well-mannered in the searing desire driving her ever nearer to him, so shamefully wrong. And yet, gloriously right. Her lips melded perfectly to his beyond anything she’d ever envisioned. His tongue flirted with hers in some primal rite that she’d known nothing of until now, while her heart drummed out a rhythm urging her against his heated body.

Did Jack feel the same beat swelling inside him, as unstoppable as the swiftest current? How splendid he was, so warm and solid, all carved muscle. Not stifling in any way, but tender and protective, as though he were shielding her from the world. And she knew he would.

Had there ever been such a man?

A flood of new sensations charged through every fiber of her being in response to his closeness. What stark emptiness would overwhelm her if they must part. And yet, this lovemaking couldn’t go on, for that’s what this was, wasn’t it?

Good heavens. She must behave properly. But she had no will to comply, no heart for the refusal slammed at them from her grandfather and bizarre man-bear father. Only Jack understood. Only he could support her in this strangest of all possible worlds.

“Jack.” She whispered his name against his mouth. “You’re so grand. Far more than any man I know.”

“You don’t really know me, sweetheart.”

She looked up into his face, each rugged line strong and perfect in the golden glow of the fire. “Oh, but I do. Before you first came, I heard you in the wind.”

A groan escaped him at their names. He seemed to battle some debilitating emotion. She wondered if it were the same pounding sensation rendering her nearly witless.

He rolled over, wincing slightly as his injured shoulder brushed the floor, and lay on his back on the fur. He cradled her against him with his good arm. “Ah, Karin. Yesterday, you declared me too bold. True enough. Yet now you want me to claim you?”

He lay perfectly still apart from the rising and falling of his chest. Then lifted his head and targeted her with the full force of his eyes. The effect was dizzying.