Page 32 of The Last Warrior

The pony stood still. However, in the nick of time, the pony darted to the side, then swung around to meet the next challenge. Again, the buffalo lunged forward, but this time Black Lion sent off one arrow after another, directly toward the animal’s head. Quickly, he fired, and, though each arrow hit its target harmlessly, their force still stunned the beast.

The buffalo stopped, but the animal didn’t turn. This gave Black Lion’s companions, the two other Indians, the opportunity they had been awaiting. Yelling and hollering, each holding out a blanket, they provided a diversion, and the animal, confused, caught sight of one of its own herd, one who was exiting the arena. Luckily, the huge beast followed its companion out of the arena.

It was over.

A feeling of relief swept through Suzette, which was followed at once by a round of applause from the audience. For her own part, Suzette let go of a long-held breath.

All it would have taken was one foul step and her newly acquired husband’s life would have been over. The feeling of loss that accompanied the thought seemed out of place for a man she barely knew.

Or did she know him better than she thought?

At present the three main players in the little drama were taking their bows, then with a wave to the audience, the three Indians exited the arena. But the roar from the relatively small audience would not let them go.

“Yes, yes,” said Richmond, the announcer, “come back in here, boys. Take another bow.”

As the three young men rode once more into the arena, the clamor from the people rose in a crescendo. In their hands, the Indians held bows and arrows, and on cue, they threw their hands high into the air. The small crowd went riotous, Suzette included. Even the cowboys who had placed a protective guard around the arena applauded.

“That’s right. Give them a hand, folks. They certainly deserve it,” said the announcer.

At last Black Lion looked directly at her. But what was this? What was he doing?

Without dropping his gaze from hers, Black Lion set his mount in a direction which would take him to stand right in front of her. Then, reining in the Appaloosa he rode, Black Lion wasted not a single effort, and in a salute to her, he placed his right arm over his breast.

It was an honor. Suzette grinned back at him, and, caught up in the moment, she whipped her hat off her head and threw it into the arena.

It was a bad toss, a girl’s toss, and it fell to the ground well short of its mark. But it didn’t matter, because turning his pony around and reining the animal into a run, Black Lion rushed toward the hat at a full gallop. Leaning over the side of the animal as it approached the hat, Black Lion plucked the bonnet up with ease. Straightening in his seat, he waved the headgear in the air as one final salute to her. No sooner had the act been committed than he rushed from the arena.

Suzette stood still, staring at the place where Black Lion had exited long after his image had faded from view. He had been magnificent. He had been thrilling. And this from a person who had been raised in the drama of the opera.

He had also been in danger. But it wasn’t merely this that worried her. There, in the midst of the buffalo hunt, she had feared for him, truly feared for him.

Suzette wondered what this meant. She had married the man for his name alone. Did she already have stronger feelings for him than she ought? Certainly she respected him, and particularly what he had done, was doing, for her. Indeed, she responded to him physically, but…

On the tail end of the idea, images materialized in her mind’s eye, those of Black Lion. There he was, confronting the buffalo; there he was, listening to her, reasoning with her, arguing with her, tying their hands together, marrying her…kissing her.

She touched her lips. She had returned each of those kisses, she reminded herself. But it seemed to her she could have done little to help herself. Especially because his kisses were as untamed as the man was himself. If she were to be honest, and she really should be, she would have to admit to yearning for more contact with the man.

In the form of what? More kisses, more embracing, more fondling? What was it he had said to her, there in the beginning of their relationship?

If you are ever willing and wanting more, I, too, might be agreeable…

Like a fine vein of gold marbling through a rock, his words laced through her thoughts, and without conscious effort, desire, pure and carnal, leaped through her. With a certain degree of self-abhorrence, Suzette knew she was not only married to this man, she wanted this man, and on a very physical level.

But in so short a space of time? Surely, he was kind. Surely, she liked him. Indeed, he created feelings of lust in her. But…?

Could such a response to him be a result of being pregnant? After all, was it not said that pregnancy could cause unusual cravings?

Still, on a subconscious level she knew this thing stirring within her was not a matter of bodily hormones. She wanted him as a woman wants her mate.

It was an alarming realization. She sat back down, feeling as though the wind had been knocked from her. In truth, she felt both frightened and excited.

It also unsettled her. Had she not hoped to escape this very scenario? Was this not one of the reasons she had sought out a man with whom she ought not to associate?

Truth was, she didn’t want to experience love or lovemaking. As far as she was concerned, men did hurtful deeds and said hurtful things. Hadn’t she learned her lesson with William?

Quite unconsciously, she stiffened her back, and at the same time she tried to tighten her resolve against her feelings for Black Lion. She was here to do no more than give birth to her child, return to the opera and hopefully regain not only her self-respect, but the veneration of a society which had shunned her. This was all.

Still, she was more than aware that she was not immune to this man’s charm. That this could pose a problem was also without doubt.