He raised an eyebrow.
“I…I desire you too, I think. For, if I am to be honest, I don’t want you to stop holding me. Does that make a difference?”
He drew physically back from her, even though it was only a fraction of an inch. “Do not say these things to me, for you are naked in my arms and it would be easy for me to take advantage of you. A good man would not do so. And I like to think I am a good man.”
“Yes, yes, you are. But would a good man let me catch my death from the cold?”
He moaned, the look in his eyes tender. “I understand. You don’t really want me to make love to you. You are simply cold.”
“Yes, I am cold, but?—”
“I will warm you.” He brought a hand up to smooth back a lock of her hair, letting his fingers trail slowly through it. Gradually, he rubbed her head.
“Hmmm,” she whispered. “That feels wonderful.”
“You are beautiful,” he said, “and you could have any man in camp as your husband, if you would but say the word to him.”
She gave Swift Hawk a smile. “Thank you…I think.”
He continued, “Saaa, I do not understand why you have sought me out, amongst so many others. You are white; I am Indian. We share nothing in common, not even the culture in which we have been raised. Why are you here with me now when?—?”
“Because,” she interrupted, “you saved me. Because you are helping my brother too. And because I feel as if I could tell you anything and you would probably still like me. I know you desire me now, but you do like me, don’t you?”
“I like you.” His touch fell over her cheek toward her neck. Gently, he rubbed the sensitive spots on her neck. “In truth, I like you a little too much. At times, what I feel alarms me, for I do not understand it.”
“What is there to understand? You either like a person or not, don’t you?”
“It is complicated.”
“Is it?”
He nodded, letting his touch fall toward her bosom. Slowly, he allowed his fingers to fall down the middle of her chest, tracing her breastbone, and ignored for the moment her two softened mounds on either side of that bone. Angelia closed her eyes and sighed, arching her back ever so slightly that he might take the hint and extend his range.
Oh, that he would touch her there, on her breasts. Never in her life could she remember wanting anything more. But Swift Hawk appeared to be immune to hints, and he rubbed her stomach instead. “I have never seen hair the color of yours.”
“I am told it is unusual. My mother’s hair color was the same as mine. It runs in our family, I suppose.”
“Haa‘he.I can see that it does, for your brother’s hair is much the same in color.”
Angelia opened her eyes and stared up at Swift Hawk, willing him to turn his dark eyes to her, for she wanted…more. But he seemed to be of a mind to ignore her supplication, silent though it be. At last, she realized she would have to take the lead, if she were to convince this very stubborn man of her need. “Mr. Hawk, you have my permission to do what you will. Why do you hesitate to rub my body…everywhere?”
She watched Swift Hawk swallow once, then again, as though there were something lodged in his throat. After whatseemed an eternity, he turned his heated gaze on hers. “Have you ever made love to a man before?”
She swung her head from left to right. “No.”
He sighed. “Hear me on this without interruption then.”
She nodded.
“If I do this thing to you, you will desire it again. Maybe not right away. But you will. It is not that it is bad, it is simply that this is the way people are. If you were married, then you could satisfy this desire whenever the urge might strike you. But you are not married, and so you would have no means by which to release your passion.”
“Oh, I see.”
“If I do this thing to you…” he drew out the thought, “…I might lead you along a path that could be wrong for you. It could take you places that might not be for your own good. Since you have never known passion, it might be best if you do not know it now.”
That was quite a lot for a person to say, she thought. It was also insightful. However, how could he not know? Didn’t he feel what she felt, even now? For if he did, how could he ignore it? Sighing, she caught and held his gaze. Then, barely raising her voice, she said, “I fear it is too late.”
He raised his brows.
