Authors: Patricia Hagan
Ryder ignored her excitement and set about to make them a meal out of dried rabbit meat and tortillas.
He also retrieved a jug of
tulapai
he had personally hidden where no other of his band would find it. Filling a chipped crockery mug, he held it out to Kitty, who had just declared she was dying of thirst.
She took a sip and made a face. “It’s white water—what the Chiricahua I lived with call
tulapai
. I should have known by the smell.”
“It’s good,” he said between swallows, trying not to smile. “Whatever it is.”
Kitty liked the way it felt so warm in her stomach, calm and soothing. She took another sip, and the taste was not as bad.
The sound of rain turned their gazes to the cave entrance. It was slow and cooling.
Kitty walked out to stand right in it, reveling in the feel upon her face.
“You’re going to get soaked,” Ryder said irritably.
“I don’t care.” Her lips parted and she licked eagerly at the refreshing drops. “It’s been so hot, and this feels wonderful.”
Ryder looked at her grudgingly. Her head was thrown back, hair wet and stringing down her back. He felt a tremor to see how her blouse stuck to her, nipples prominent beneath the damp clinging cotton. And it was maddening to watch as she licked at the raindrops with her tongue and made husky sounds of pleasure deep in her throat.
“I don’t care how wet I get,” she declared. “And if the river isn’t too high when we start back, I think I’ll jump right in for a swim.”
She looked at him and grinned, face glowing. “I’d forgotten how it feels to stand in the rain. And I used to swim all the time back home. There was a pond right near my house, and I’d ride my horse into it and then dive right in, and—”
With a groan, Ryder crossed to her in swift strides, grabbed her, and crushed her against him.
One hand on the back of her head, he held her in a vise-like grip as his mouth claimed hers.
She tried to wrench away. “No…don’t…”
But then he felt her resistance wither as her lips yielded to his assault, parting to allow his tongue entry.
As he began to unbutton her blouse with deft, eager fingers, his hand at the back of her head moved to cup her chin, then trailed downward to make tiny circling patterns in the sweet hollows of her throat.
Hot tingles ignited throughout her body, and Kitty unconsciously pressed closer, surrendering herself to his sweet torture. She felt consumed by the ravishing hunger of his tongue and responded with a thirst of her own.
Ryder began to trail his lips downward, wanting to lick and taste all of her, inch by inch. Her hands moved to clutch his hair, twining her fingers in it, as she moaned and quaked beneath his touch. It was her own primal need, awakening and demanding to be fed.
Slowly, for he wanted to savor and enjoy, he pulled her yet deeper into the raging current of passion, the heated throbbing of her body urging him on.
With her blouse open, parted, their gazes locked as he cupped her breasts ever so gently, then harshly, almost painfully, in his possession of her as she sighed, smiling to urge him to continue.
“I want you.” He rolled her nipples between thumb and forefinger, liking how they turned hard beneath his touch while she pushed herself against him, wanting more. “I want you, but I’ll stop if you tell me to. I didn’t bring you here to seduce you, Kitty, but I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want you.”
Her fingers moved from his hair to dance down his neck, across his shoulders, and finally down his back to clutch his buttocks tightly.
“And I want you,” she whispered. “I may regret it later, but right now I want you more than I’ve ever wanted anything in my whole life”
Ryder felt as though his loins were on fire as he lowered his face to her breasts. He assaulted one taut nipple between his teeth to nibble deliciously, and Kitty twisted and writhed in joyful anguish, mesmerized by the fervid moment.
He released her long enough to unbuckle his holster and lay it aside, and she did the same with hers. Then, embracing her once more, he lowered her slowly to the ground.
Kitty felt his hardness and knew she was not imagining anything this time. Long and hard, bulging in his trousers, it pressed against her belly.
She was stretched across him, and he pulled her upward, lifting her so that her breasts were above his face.
Sweetly, savagely, he assaulted each in turn, taking the nipple in his teeth, then rolling it with his tongue before taking as much as he could into his mouth.
She was on fire, trembling from head to toe, and he felt it…knew she wanted him…but had to be sure. “Tell me,” he commanded, releasing her breast and rolling her to her side. “Tell me you want me, Kitty.”
He was shoving up her skirt to yank down her undergarments. Her legs seemed to have a will of their own as they eagerly spread for him. He touched between, caressing the center of her desire.
“I…I do want you…” she said in a voice she did not recognize as her own. “So much, Sam…so much.”
Sam.
The alien name spoken, reminding him of his deception, was like a dash of cold water. For an instant, he hesitated, but then quickly thrust his fingers inside her. She closed about him, and he throbbed with a powerful urgency.
“I’ll be gentle,” he promised in a ragged, fevered whisper as he positioned her on her back. “If you’ve never been with a man, it hurts, and—”
“Never,” she all but shouted. “I’ve never been with a man, Sam…never wanted to be …till now…till you…”
Quickly he peeled off his clothing, then straddled her, and she opened herself to him, hips arching to maneuver herself closer. He mounted, eagerness hot and tense, charging from head to toe as he guided himself inside her.
He endeavored to be gentle, but she was clutching his back, nails cutting into his flesh as she urged him on.
Knowing that she matched his ardor, he pushed deeper, cradling her buttocks in his hands as he worked to put all of himself inside her.
She gasped, and he saw how her face winced with the pain of violation, but never did she pull back, even a little. Instead, she clutched harder, hips undulating and finally slamming against him to meet his every thrust. Her expression of rapture, the sight of her kiss-swollen nipples and heaving breasts incited him all the more, and it was all he could do to keep from ripping into her with hard, jabbing thrusts to take himself to glory. But he maintained control, working rhythmically, not wanting her to hurt any more than she had to and determined that she would know the ultimate joy.
He felt the shuddering deep within her and knew her release was coming. Pumping his hips harder, he felt his own crescendo building.
She made soft, whimpering sounds that grew louder with each propelling thrust he made into her.
Her legs went wider, then closed to lock about him as her heels dug into him. She was attached, clinging, and they became one, rocking in rhythm, each lost in the magic of their passion…their lust…their ultimate climb to the pinnacle of fulfillment.
They clung to each other…quietly, reverently.
Ryder was the first to speak, tone worried. “Did I hurt you very much?”
She managed a choky little laugh. “Your beard did.” She rubbed at her cheeks.
Ryder saw the redness on her face, as well as her breasts. His whiskers had not been kind to the delicate flesh.
“I’m sorry,” he mumbled, feeling bad because there was nothing he could do about it. If he were to shave, she might recognize him, and he could take no chances, not when they had come so far.
It had stopped raining.
Ryder rolled to lie beside her, his arm about her as he cradled her head against his shoulder.
Turning to gaze toward the strange light that fell across the cave entrance, he said, almost wistfully, “I’ve always loved twilight in this part of the country. It doesn’t last long, just a few magic minutes when the world seems to turn purple and lavender, as the light bleeds over everything before melting to darkness.
“Beautiful,” he said, turning to brush his lips across her forehead. “Like you.”
Kitty snuggled yet closer to him, weariness creeping over her. “At least there was no storm. Just rain. And now it’s gone. We can start back early in the morning. I’d like to get the map, buy our supplies, and get started.
“Do you think my horse will be all right to ride by then?” She raised to look at him, wanting to see his dear and handsome face so near.
His eyes were closed.
His breathing was even.
She knew he slept, and she smiled.
A cool breeze blew over them. Kitty shivered and sat up to button her blouse and pull her skirt down over her bare legs.
She looked at Sam. He was completely naked and would be cold, but she did not want to awaken him.
She had spotted some woven Indian blankets stacked to one side and scrambled up to get one. The warmth would be welcome for both of them against the night chill.
She began to spread it over him, desire washing over her to gaze upon his broad chest, strong shoulders and arms, and…
With a warm flush, her gaze moved downward—
A gasp ripped through her.
Surely her eyes deceived her.
Quickly she moved closer for better scrutiny, pulse racing and heart thundering.
It had to be a play of light, she told herself, or a blemish. It could not be…
But it was.
On his lower abdomen was a scar, like a puncture wound…in the shape of a star and identical to the one she remembered seeing on Whitebear when she had bathed him.
Kitty began to shake from head to toe, and she moved back from him lest she wake him, and, dear Lord, she did not want him awake now.
She leaned into his face. It was hard to tell what he really looked like with a beard covering it, but now that she was looking for resemblance, she found it easily.
The dark hair. Dark eyes. The lines, muscles, of his body. The very shape of him.
Sam Bodine, she realized with fury roiling like water boiling in a kettle, was actually
Whitebear
.
Chapter Eighteen
Ryder awoke to find Kitty straddling him and holding a gun in his face.
“What the—”
He lifted his head but lowered it quickly as she pushed the gun barrel right under his nose.
“Make a move, and so help me, I will blow you away,” she said with jaw set, teeth clenched.
He knew at once she was not playing some kind of game. Her eyes were so hot with anger he could feel the heat.
He swallowed hard. “Kitty, what the hell is going on?”
“You tell me—
Whitebear.
”
He sucked in his breath and let it out in a whoosh. “How did you find out?”
“Did you really think I wouldn’t? Oh, you were good, all right. The beard had me fooled.”
He kept his eye on her trigger finger and hoped she wasn’t cold-blooded enough to actually shoot. “Kitty, I was going to tell you eventually.”
She sneered. “Sure you were—after you had all the gold for yourself.”
“I wasn’t going to take more than half, which is my share.”
“Oh, of course. That’s why you were trying to find me in the first place, right? When you and the rest of those savages attacked the stagecoach looking for me, you only wanted to ask if you could help me look for the gold so we could share it.
“Do you take me for a complete fool?” Her voice rose as she waved the gun, then stuck it under his nose again.
“Kitty, be careful. It could go off.”
“Which is what I want it to do, you arrogant bastard. You seduced me thinking that once we made love I’d give you anything you wanted. Of all the conceit—”
He dared to remind her, “I didn’t seduce you, and you know it. You wanted it as much as I did. Besides, we had already made a deal before it happened.”
“But all along it’s what you were leading up to.” Humiliation made her hand tremble. “I ought to blow your lying head off here and now.”
His arms were to his sides, and he started to raise one in a pleading gesture, but she warned, “Don’t try anything. I swear I’ll shoot you. Damn it, when I think how you deceived me…”
“Put the gun down,” he coaxed. “And let’s talk. I can explain everything.”
“I know all I need to know,
Whitebear
.” She spat the name. “Or should I call you
Sam
? And by the way, which name would you prefer on your tombstone?”
“Sam Bodine is not my name. And I grew the beard not only to keep you from seeing some resemblance but also because I’ve worked as an army scout using my real name—Ryder McCloud. I was afraid I might run into soldiers that know me. So it was necessary to create a whole new identity to keep you from finding out who I was—changing my voice, the way I walk…everything.
“You should be able to understand that,” he added, venturing a crooked smile to remind her of her own deception. “You did the same thing.”
“And thank God I did,” she fired back. “Otherwise I’d have been raped…tortured…scalped.”
“That’s not true. I would not have let that happen.”
Her laugh was bitter. “And I was your slave, remember? I had to do your bidding, wait on you hand and foot like you were some kind of god, and sleep on the ground outside your tepee while you made love to all those girls, and…”
He quirked a brow, pretending shock. “You mean that’s what this is all about? You were jealous of those girls? But if you’d let me know the truth about yourself, I’d much have preferred you, and—”
Her face turned even redder. “Why…why of all the nerve…”
It was all he needed—a split second of diversion as she sputtered with indignation.
Moving with lightning speed, before she knew what was happening, his hand struck like a rattlesnake to wrap around her wrist and jerk it to one side.
The gun went off in a deafening explosion.
“You could have killed me, you little vixen,” he roared, wresting it from her to toss into the far shadows.
Swiftly he rolled her over to pin her arms over her head. “Now it’s my turn to talk, goddamn it, and you are going to listen even if I have to gag and hog-tie you.”
“I hate you,” she hissed, eyes glittering like a wolf at prey. “I never knew I could hate anybody so much. You were using me. All you ever wanted was the map. You were never my friend.”
“I was your friend. I still am. Now more than ever, because of what we just shared.” His gaze went to her heaving bosom, and he fought the impulse to attempt to silence her with his lips.
“You never cared about anything but the damn map,” she repeated.
“That’s not true.”
“And now I feel so foolish.”
“
You
feel foolish?” He laughed incredulously. “How do you think I look to my people? Whitebear, their leader, could not tell his slave was actually a woman.”
“I was trying to survive, damn you, not trick you so I could steal your share of the gold. And besides, if you had found out who I was you’d have taken my piece of map and then killed me.”
“No, I would not have,” he said quietly, soberly. “My intention when I attacked the stage was to find you and keep you till I could scare you into handing it over, then let you go.”
“Oh, I’m sure it was, but when I was clever enough to escape, and you discovered later how I’d tricked you, you set out to seduce me and persuade me to take you in as my partner so you could swindle me.”
“Not necessarily in that order.” He smiled, a slow, lazy, taunting smile that infuriated her all the more. “As I said, we already had a deal before you wound up in my arms. And as for your claiming to be
clever
enough to escape”—he paused to sneer—“my mother was responsible for your getting away, and you know it. Otherwise you’d still be there giving me a bath whenever I told you to.
“And, oh, what a shame I didn’t know the truth then,” he goaded. “Think what fun we’d have had in the bathtub together.”
“Damn you,” she repeated as she struggled against him.
“But your secret would have been discovered sooner or later. You know that. You were lucky my mother took pity on you before it was.”
Suddenly curious, she asked, “When did you find out the truth?”
“I went into Tombstone as Ryder McCloud and overheard a conversation between Opal Grimes and someone else about how the young woman she had been expecting from back East had been taken by Indians and how no one on the stage knew she was a woman, because she dressed and acted like a man.
“You even changed your voice,” he said, grudgingly impressed at how cunning she had been.
“When I realized what you’d done,” he continued, “when I realized Billy Mingo was actually you, I rode back to camp like the devil was on my heels, but by then my mother had already let you go.”
“And how did you find me after that?”
“It wasn’t hard, and it didn’t take long. I knew you’d head to Tombstone and straight to Opal Grimes, because you didn’t know anybody else or have anywhere else to go. I went to her shanty. She had moved, but I knew where she worked.”
“And you had earlier paid her a visit as Whitebear and held a knife to her throat, hadn’t you?”
“I didn’t hurt her. I just wanted to scare her into telling me what she knew. That’s how I found out she’d sent Parrish’s half of the map to you. It was later I discovered where she’d hidden the telegram saying when you’d arrive, and then I made my plans to attack the stagecoach.”
“So the night you shot the gun out of Roscoe’s hand you were actually at the saloon to spy on me and leaped at the chance to rescue me so I’d be grateful and let you get close to me.”
He gave her a gentle shake. “If I let you up, will you be still and listen?”
“To what? You’ve told your lies. I don’t believe you. So go ahead and kill me, because I don’t have the map with me, and I’m not going to give it to you.
“In fact,” she cried with a fresh roll of anger, “If I have a chance, I’m going to burn it. I’d rather not find one nugget than have you get your dirty hands on it.”
His own rage ebbing, Ryder stood, easily lifting her with him. Standing her on her feet, he gave her a shove away from him along with a disgusted glare. “How dare you think I have no right to my share, you haughty little brat? I’m as much entitled to that strike as you are. Maybe more so, because it was my
fathe
r, not an
uncle
, who was partner with yours. That’s thicker blood.”
Tears sprang to her eyes as she said defensively, “Uncle Wade was like my father. I called him Daddy Wade…” Her voice faded as she thought how childish the term sounded now, in the wake of so much bitter frustration.
“But it doesn’t matter,” she said finally. “We’re never going to find it. We couldn’t have with just my half of the map, anyway.”
“Probably not,” he said soberly. Retrieving his clothes, he began to dress, keeping a wary eye on her to make sure she did not go for her other gun. “But I never intended to look with just your half.”
She exploded once more. “That proves it. You
were
going to take it and then desert me. Oh damn you to hell, Sam…Ryder…Whitebear”—she stamped her foot—“whatever you call yourself. You are a liar and a crook.”
He stepped into his trousers and calmly buttoned the fly. “I am going to try to explain it all to you one more time. First of all, I don’t have my father’s half, but I’ve got a good idea where it is. Second, I am still willing to split whatever we find, but if the deal is off now that you know the truth, I’ll take you back to Tombstone and forget the whole thing. It’s all I can do, because I’m running out of time. I have to get my people across the Mexican border before winter, with or without any money to make a new start. Otherwise, they will either starve to death where they are or be caught by the soldiers and taken back to the reservation. And believe me,” he grimly added, “they’d rather die than go back there.
“My plan at first,” he admitted, “was to take your map, but I changed my mind after I got to know you.”
She snorted, “Likely story.”
“It’s true. You’ll just have to trust me.”
“I do not trust you,” she said solemnly. “And I never will. Not now.”
He strapped on his holster and, without looking at her, said, “Then let’s get you back to Tombstone. It’s over.”
She made ready to leave, but when she went to retrieve her own holster and weapons, Ryder was quick to snatch them away.
“I’ll just hang on to these till we get back to town,” he said drily. “I don’t want to get a bullet in my back.”
“It wouldn’t be in the back. I still think I can outdraw you.” She strode out of the cave to where the horses were tethered.
Ryder swung up into the saddle and held out his hand to her almost grudgingly. “You still can’t ride that horse.”
Petulantly, childishly, she said, “Well, I won’t ride with you.”
“Have it your way. You can walk.” He kneed his horse to start him forward, puffing hers behind.
Kitty stumbled along as they moved through the high, pressing walls of the path. Again and again, she relived the time when she had been his captive and felt so foolish to think how, afterward, she had been so drawn to him.
She mused, also, over the past weeks and how her feelings for him as Sam Bodine had grown so deeply. There had been moments when she actually wondered whether she were falling in love with him. Then, too, she had to admit she had likewise been drawn to him as Whitebear. But now she was rocked to her toes with humiliation, which made it all the easier to despise him.
It was getting dark. She imagined all sorts of monsters hiding in the brush, ready to pounce on her.
Soon she could barely see him in front of her, could only hear the steady clicking of hoof beats against the rocks as they became more distant.
Finally, she could stand it no more. “I’ve changed my mind. I want to ride,” she called into the dimness.
Reining to a stop, he waited for her, then swung her up to settle her in front of him in the saddle. He cursed himself for the tremor that rocked through him as his arms went about her. With thighs pressed against hers, he willed himself not to grow hard…not to let desire rise once more at her nearness.
Her hair brushed his cheek, and he sucked in his breath and fought for willpower to withstand the emotions she so easily evoked.
Dear God
, he prayed,
make the ride go fast so I can get her out of my sight, out of my life, because having her close, touching her, feeling her, is torture too great to bear
.
He wished she had not found out the truth so soon, but he had not thought about the scar, damn it…had not thought it made such an impression on her that she would have noticed it so easily. But it was too late to worry about it now. All he could do was get her as close to Tombstone as he dared, then ride away before she sounded an alarm and got a posse after him.
He also hated that he could never again cross the line from Indian to white as Ryder McCloud. She would tell about that, of course, but he had felt it necessary to confide everything in hopes she would somehow sense he was baring his soul and come nearer trusting him. He had gambled and lost, but wondered if it really made any difference. His days of pretending to be a white man were behind him, anyway, for his people would need him in their new home.
Kitty was also lost in needling thoughts and waging her own inner battle, for, despite her choler at his treachery, there was no denying that she had found splendor in his arms. He had shown her what it meant to be a woman, and she would always remember him for it, despite her anger.
As they rode slowly into the night, Kitty wondered how things would have been for them had they met under different circumstances. There was no denying that they had got on well when he had taken her on daily outings.
But it had only been an act, she bristled to remind herself, all a part of his scheme.
“Were you really tempted to shoot me?” he asked, sounding amused.
“I sure as hell was,” she lied. “You caught me off guard before I had the chance.”
He laughed softly. “I don’t think so. I think you just wanted to vent your rage and then leave me stranded.”
She was not about to admit that that had been her exact plan.