Page 49 of The Last Warrior

Haye-haye, hey, hey.”

His voice had been low, barely audible, the song a mixture of minor and major keys. When he said, “Come, sing it with me,” Suzette was unprepared.

“Sing it once again,” she said.

He indulged her, then, “Are you ready to lift your voice with mine?”

“I think so. At least I will try.”

And so they sang together.

He helped her with the words when she stumbled. When it was finished, they sat still, each taking the measure of the other.

After a moment, she asked softly, “Does haye-haye mean anything?”

“It means to be glad, usually because of a gift. The mountain lioness is happy because she has her children. They are a gift to her from the Creator, and so she made this song to sing to them and to the one who made them, so they all might appreciate her love.”

“It is all very beautiful,” said Suzette.

“And so is your voice.” His fingers squeezed hers.

His touch was unlike anything she had ever experienced as far as its effect on her. Her breasts swelled, a portion of her body most private ached, and her nerve endings were on fire. Indeed, she found herself saying, “Please, do it again.”

“What?” he asked. “Sing the song with you?”

In truth, this was not what she had in mind. But she wasn’t certain she could admit her deepest yearnings to him. Did a woman talk of her need to a man, even if the man be her husband? And if she did mention these longings, what would he think of her?

Confused, she uttered the only words she felt she could. “Yes, let us sing it again.”

They did so, and when the song was over, they stared at each other.

At last, he said, “At this moment, I feel as though I know you very well.”

“I too.”

“I would very much like to kiss you.”

“I would like it also.”

Pressing her hand, which he still held firmly within his own, he brought it up around his neck. Then, bending toward her, he placed a gentle kiss on her lips.

“You taste of honey and nectar,” he said against her mouth as he pushed himself a little closer to her.

“And you taste of mint,” she whispered, then she frowned at him. “Why do you taste of mint?”

“I chew the leaves, which are to be found all over this prairie. I have done so most of my life, as is common with my people. Mint is a good medicine, for it aids one in social surroundings, and it helps with a stomachache too.”

“Do you have a stomachache?”

“No, but when you sit near me, as you do now, I often feel as though I have leaped from a high cliff.”

“Do you?” At his words, an involuntary quiver raced over her skin. “Sometimes I feel the same way too…about you.”

“Truly?”

Suzette didn’t answer. Alas, she was afraid to do so, if only because she craved more from this man than she cared to admit, and it was something so very sensual. And a proper young lady didn’t speak of such matters, did she?

In the end, she chose a safe topic. “But you have no need for the mint, I think, for your breath is quite…invigorating.”