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Her heart melted as her eyes found Dancing Cloud lying on his side, the moonlight shining through the lacy, sheer curtains at her window caressing his long, lean body.
Lauralee’s face flushed crimson when she saw that Dancing Cloud was nude.
Then she recalled her uncle having taken Dancing Cloud’s wet fringed breeches and moccasins, to let them dry on the back porch rail.
Dr. Kemper had sent a young man to the Peterson House with Dancing Cloud’s belongings. Lauralee had, in turn, asked the young man to return the horse that Dancing Cloud had borrowed, glad to be rid of it.
Dancing Cloud’s saddlebag lay on the floor beside the bed. She could see that he had sorted through it. He had taken from it fresh clothes that now lay neatly across the back of a chair.
Her gaze held on a beautifully beaded pair of moccasins beside his bed. They seemed new. Had some pretty Cherokee maiden sewn them for him? she wondered.
That thought sent a painful, jealous ache through her, to think that somewhere in his past were other women with whom he had shared intimate moments.
Brushing the thought aside she stepped into the bedroom. She turned and eased the door closed, then almost screamed with alarm when she felt strong arms encircle her waist.
When she realized whose arms, and whose body was pressing into hers from behind, she closed her eyes with ecstasy.
The frilly chemise was thin enough for her to feel the full outline of his body, especially what was most defined to her at the juncture of his thighs.
He drew her back more securely against him.
Her heart pounded.
She was dizzy with need of him.
Yet she had to force herself to deny this that he might be offering her tonight. She could not be this disrespectful to her aunt and uncle by giving herself fully to a man beneath their roof.
“Dancing Cloud, please,” Lauralee whispered, her voice trembling. When his hands slipped up and cupped her breasts through her chemise, she sucked in a wild breath of pleasure. Her knees almost buckled from the rapture that was taking hold of her senses.
“You said please?” Dancing Cloud whispered into her ear.
“Please don’t,” Lauralee forced out, wishing she did not have to deny him anything, anytime.
Dancing Cloud slipped his hands back down to her waist and drew her around to face him. “You do not wish to make love?” he said, searching her eyes.
“With all of my heart I do,” Lauralee whispered, reaching a hand to his cheek. “But we mustn’t. Darling, you are not well enough. And we must remember where we are. My uncle. He is only across the hall. What if he would discover us . . . ?”
“You are right,” Dancing Cloud said, wincing when straightening his shoulder. “But you came to the room. If not to make love . . .”
She placed a finger to his lips. “Shh,” she whispered. “I came to be with you. To lay beside you. To tell you how much I love you. And to tell you how anxious I am for us to make love again. I have so missed being with you in that way. Am I a hussy for hungering for that part of our relationship? Before I met you I so feared it.”
“You are a woman with womanly needs. Never allow yourself to feel that is wrong,” Dancing Cloud said. He took her by the hand and led her to the bed. “Lie down with me. Let me hold you. Soon we will go farther with our feelings again. It is good to know that your hungers match my own.”
When he stretched out beside Lauralee, she turned to him. She leaned up on her knees and her hair tumbled over her shoulders as she gently kissed him near his wound. She could hear him take a quick intake of breath and could feel his heart throbbing hard as she continued giving him kisses across his massive chest.
When she felt something warm and hard against her thigh she scarcely breathed. It was obvious that she had stirred feelings within him that could hardly be denied.
Dancing Cloud reached his hands to her breasts and stroked them. His thumbs circled her nipples, causing them to harden. He leaned up on an elbow and led one of them between his lips. His tongue swirled around it, his lips nipping.
“I didn’t mean to cause this,” Lauralee whispered, her face blushed hot with want. She held her head back and sighed when she felt his fingers caressing her throbbing center.
When she could take no more, she drew away from him. “We truly mustn’t,” she whispered. “Dancing Cloud, you can’t be strong enough. And my uncle . . .”
He yanked her down beside him and turned to her. His lips sealed any more denials as he kissed her with a frenzy of kisses. His hand led his hardness to where she opened so willingly and quickly to him.
She sank into a chasm of desire, his kiss stealing all quarrel and reason from her.
Feverishly, she raked her fingers down his spine and along his hips. When he entered her she shuddered pleasurably and gripped his hips lightly, abandoning herself to the torrent of feelings that swam through her.
