Nan Ryan (24 page)

The water was so perfectly still it mirrored the pale gold leaves of a stately aspen grove rising majestically on the nearby bluff. A white-tailed ptarmigan winged gracefully down, landed a few feet away, and began to feed greedily on fallen willow buds.

Diane smiled, eagerly stripped off her dirty purple dress, and dropped it. She fell to her knees on the soft grassy bank of the clear alpine pool, bent over, and wet her long black hair. Happily she shampooed the tangled tresses with the sweet-scented soap, silently blessing the enigmatic Indian for stealing it.

When her hair was clean and rinsed and swept in long, wet locks down her back, Diane picked up the discarded purple dress and washed it. She then carefully spread it out in the sun to dry.

She looked cautiously around. All was quiet, peaceful, perfect. So she stripped off her lace-trimmed satin chemise and sat back on her heels wearing nothing but her daringly brief satin underpants.

Smiling she splashed cool, clear water all over herself, took up the bar of soap, and happily went about lathering her throat and arms and back and bare breasts, hardly realizing that she had begun to hum softly. She laid the soap aside and rinsed away all the suds. She then sat back on her heels, letting the hot sun kiss her tingling flesh, debating on whether she should strip off her underpants and have a real bath.

Diane closed her eyes, inhaled deeply of the sweet, clean mountain air, and tipped her face up to the sun. She hooked her thumbs into the waistband of her underpants. Eyes remaining closed, head thrown back, she leisurely, lazily, began shoving the satin underpants down over her flat belly and flaring hips.

And choked with fear, her eyes flying open, when a firm hand abruptly clamped over her mouth and an arm of steel came around her bare waist.

“Don’t move,” warned her Indian captor, his lips brushing her ear, his bare knees spread on either side of hers.

Frozen with fear, Diane felt her heart kicking against her naked breasts, felt his chest pressing insistently against her back. Wondering frantically how she could have been foolish enough to trust him, she sensed that this was to be a brutal sexual possession, without tenderness or mercy.

Kneeling behind her, he whispered, “Our mountain lion has been watching you. He grew curious, and now he’s coming toward us. When I move my hand, don’t make a sound. Don’t move suddenly. Just try to relax.”

His hand left her lips. Diane didn’t dare even turn her head. She was at once greatly relieved and terrified. She heard the low, inquiring growl of the big cat and bit her lip to keep from making a sound.

“It’s all right,” whispered the Indian against her ear. “It’s going to be okay. Stop holding your breath.”

Diane drew a shallow breath and from the corner of her eye saw the big tawny cat edge warily closer. In seconds the cougar with the dark diamond throat reached them, and Diane trembled against Starkeeper when the big cat’s golden eyes casually looked her over. She couldn’t hold back a soft wince when the powerful beast walked right up and nudged her bare arm with a furry shoulder.

“Stay still,” murmured Starkeeper, his arms clasping her protectively to him. “Do exactly as I tell you.”

Diane tried to draw up into herself when the huge cat lowered his head and rubbed it back and forth on her bare thigh. The great head lifted. The cat turned and rubbed his side against hers, then walked around behind them, rubbing up against Starkeeper’s bare back.

The cat appeared on Diane’s other side and again rubbed himself on her. When he gently laid a paw up on her bare thigh, she thought she’d surely faint. And when he stepped up onto her trembling thighs with both front feet, she felt all the blood drain from her face.

The cat moved fully across her, placing his front paws on one side of her, back paws on the other. There he stayed. He pressed his sleek, warm body to hers. Against her bare breasts, Diane could feel the rapid, powerful heartbeat throbbing through his body. She turned her face to the side, seeking closeness and comfort from Starkeeper.

His lips now almost touching hers, Starkeeper said, “He’s making you his, just the way a tame tabby does. Putting his scent on you, so you’ll belong to him. If you let him do it, he won’t hurt you.”

Even Starkeeper was struck with fear when the cat, finally moving off Diane, turned slowly, looked at her, and opened his huge mouth, showing his sharp, dangerous canine teeth. But Starkeeper kept that fear from his voice when he said against Diane’s open, trembling lips, “If the cat takes your arm or hand in his mouth, don’t jerk it away. Force it farther down into his mouth. Do that and he’ll let go.”

“Oh, God,” she finally whispered brokenly against Starkeeper’s bronzed jaw, “help me. I’m so scared.”

Watching only the cat, Starkeeper said, “I have you. It’s all right. Now he’s going to take hold of your arm. Let him have it. Don’t pull away.”

The big tawny mountain lion growled loudly, advanced again. He lowered his head and clamped his teeth over Diane’s forearm. It took superhuman control for her not to jerk it free. But she didn’t because Starkeeper’s warm lips were against her cold cheek, murmuring to her, instructing her, reassuring her. She obeyed Starkeeper. Diane looked into the cat’s golden eyes and slowly shoved her arm farther down into his huge mouth, expecting to hear the crunch of bone, to see the arm bitten completely off.

The lion immediately released her.

For a moment he stood there staring at her, growling menacingly in the back of his throat. Then the growling stopped. He twisted his head and again rubbed it back and forth across her breasts and rib cage. Then, to Diane’s shock, the big beast stretched out beside her and laid his big head down in her lap. He moaned softly as if begging her to pet him.

“Should I?” she whispered to Starkeeper.

“Yes,” he instructed softly, his arms squeezing her encouragingly, “very slowly, very carefully.”

Diane slowly lifted the arm that had been inside the lion’s mouth. She tentatively laid her hand atop the cat’s great head and gently stroked it, just the way she’d stroke a harmless house pet. The fierce lion responded just like his domestic counterpart.

He bowed his big head back, closed his golden eyes in ecstasy, and made purring sounds of unadulterated pleasure.

“Look,” she whispered, smiling nervously. “Look at him.”

“Yes, he loves it,” murmured Starkeeper. “He knows you’re his now, and he’s enjoying the stroking.”

Diane continued to pet the big tawny lion while he lay with his eyes closed, paws stretching, purrs growing deeper, louder. Then, just like a house cat, in time he grew tired of the attention, the confinement Abruptly he lifted his head, bounded up, and shot away across the verdant grass and disappeared in the timber.

Diane let out a long, loud sigh of relief, sagged back against Starkeeper’s solid chest, and said, “How do you know so much about cats?”

“I’m half cat myself,” he replied with almost a smile in his voice.

“I believe it,” she said, drained, waiting for her pulse to return to normal.

The danger past, Diane soon became aware of the position they were in, of their state of near-total undress. Suddenly self-conscious and uneasy by the sexual threat he posed, Diane lunged up and crossed her arms over her bare breasts.

She made a big mistake when she said insultingly to the man who had just saved her life, “Get away from me! Don’t touch me! I won’t allow you to take advantage of me just because—”

Her sentence was never finished.

Instantly Diane found herself flat on her back with both arms raised and pinned above her head in one of his hands. His dark, angry face was inches from hers, and his bare, broad chest was pressing against her bare breasts.

“You’re a very foolish woman, Beauty,” he said, cold fury darkening his eyes. His free hand captured her face, thumb and fingers biting into her cheeks. The pulse hammering in his temple, he lowered his sculpted lips so close to hers that Diane could feel his breath fanning her cheek.

He said in that unique voice, “You’d do well always to remember that men—even Indian men—are not all that different from cats.”

Chapter 23

Diane was stunned by the quicksilver turn in her captor. Speechless, she looked up into his smoldering black eyes and felt their heat and hatred. Her arms remained pinioned above her head, and his thumb and fingers continued to grip her chin tightly. His broad bronzed chest pressed intimately down on her bare breasts, and a hard, muscular thigh was wedged between her legs.

She was trapped, unable to move.

The Indian’s thinned, cruel-looking lips hovered inches from her own. Any second that ruthless mouth would capture and cover hers. Her breath coming in short pants, Diane anxiously anticipated the fierce invasion of that mean but masterful mouth, knowing she was helpless. She couldn’t fight it.

The pulse hammered in her throat, and she trembled, realizing instinctively that if he even went further than the demanding possession of a kiss, she wouldn’t be able to stop that either.

And wasn’t really sure she wanted to.

Above her, Starkeeper looked down at her beautiful, frightened face, his heart pounding as forcefully as hers. His gaze riveted to her full, inviting lips, a terrible, dark, but alluring thought seized him.

His strength was far superior to this temptingly sensual woman beneath him. She wasn’t able to move unless he allowed it. She was also nearly naked, as was he. She was intensely afraid of him; he could see it in those arresting violet eyes. She was physically attracted to him; he could see that as well.

She was subdued. Caught. Trapped.

Chained by fright and fascination.

And here in this high mountain Shangri-la they were miles from civilization. Totally alone. No one would stop him if he stripped away her flimsy satin underpants and kissed her all over her pale, silky body. No one would respond to her protests if he forcefully took her, burying himself deep within the sweet, hot flesh that so enticed him.

Starkeeper abruptly realized with alarm that he was almost as trapped as the defenseless Diane. Chains of desire imprisoned him, held him fast The very scent and sight and feel of her, lying beneath him, so intoxicated him he felt weak and helpless. He knew he should let her go. He wasn’t sure he could. Conscience warred with passion, and passion was winning as it never had before.

Starkeeper trembled violently.

Self-control had always been as much an integral part of him as his jet black hair, his tall, lean build. Never once in his thirty-five years had he so much as considered taking a woman by force. Such an act was totally abhorrent to him.

A fierce urgency was communicating itself from Starkeeper to Diane. She felt the thundering beating of his heart against her bare breast, read the raw desire flashing from his heavy-lidded eyes. He was on the verge of taking her in a primitive act of passion. She was powerless to stop him. She was powerless to stop herself as well.

Looking into those hot black eyes, Diane was seized with a terrible, dark, but alluring thought They were alone here in this beautiful mountain paradise, she and the magnificent beast No one for miles around. This harshly handsome Indian could make uninhibited love to her here this hidden alpine aerie and no one would know the difference.

And it wouldn’t be
her
fault.

He was the male, the dominant one, the one to be held responsible. She had no chance against his greater strength, couldn’t physically fight him off. And she had no will to fight the rapidly building desire she felt for him. The strong sexual magnetism that drew them together was too powerful and mysterious to conquer.

Starkeeper stared at Diane’s mouth for a long time. Then his burning lips covered hers in a kiss of heated, unbridled lust. His tongue instantly broke the barrier of her teeth and plunged deep inside her mouth. His head turned to the side, and his blistering lips slanted across hers, seeking, taking what he wanted. The long, devouring kiss conveyed such frank sexual hunger that Diane quivered with a deep, reactive yearning.

Paradoxically it was Diane’s surprising response to his kiss that saved—or cheated—her of his complete love-making.

Starkeeper was by nature a caring and sensitive lover. So when Diane didn’t physically protest against his hard, brutal kiss, when instead she willingly molded her sweet, hot lips to his, Starkeeper’s punishing mouth immediately eased its pressure, then lifted. In her kiss he had found much more than he’d hoped for.

Not surrender. Something so much better. Shared desire. A passion that matched his own. Starkeeper knew instinctively that she was now his for the taking. And for the giving.

Instantly repentant for his reckless, caveman behavior, he started over—at the very beginning. The hand that pinned her arms above her head released them, and the lips that then bent again to taste hers were cautiously warm and infinitely tender. His softened lips brushed gentle, featherlight kisses to Diane’s open lips while his lean bronzed fingers cupped her face as if it were priceless porcelain.

Diane’s breathing deepened as Starkeeper’s smooth bronzed skin burned against hers. She sighed as his mouth—that marvelous mouth—played provocatively with hers, pressing the sweetest of kisses against her sensitive lips.