Pale Moon Stalker (The Nymph Trilogy) (42 page)

Sky knew he had never told another woman he loved her and the realization filled her with joy. But she felt constrained to confess, "I did love Will...in a different way. He was kind and protective, always concerned for me..."

"But you knew no passion with him," he said gently, understanding what she was trying to say, relieved to have it out in the open.

"No, what I felt from those first moments in your Bismarck hotel room made me feel guilty...and attracted at the same time."

"The guilt's gone now." He did not make it a question, but needed to hear her answer just the same.

"I'm sorry a good man's life had to end that way, but, yes, I no longer feel guilty because I love you...and desire you."

He could see a faint flush stain her cheeks as she met his gaze. "Bloody hell, I was never so grateful as when we consummated our vows. Then I knew you could never leave me. You can't imagine how often I cursed that infernal bargain we'd made."

"I was afraid when we left the Cheyenne that if I was with child, you would feel honor bound to stay with me," Sky said as they approached the gazebo overlooking the carefully manicured landscape of the Loring estate.

He drew her inside and they sat down on the wooden bench running around the interior of the octagonal structure. "I suppose I should thank you for not believing me such an absolute rotter that I'd abandon you and our offspring," he said with the hint of a smile tugging at his lips.

"After what happened in Clean Sweep, I knew I'd been a fool, but I've told you about my lifelong insecurities," she said, raising his hand to her lips and brushing the knuckles with a kiss. "It would've been easier if you were a rotter. Then I could've simply left you."

"Rotter or not, I would never have permitted that, m'lady," he replied, pressing a kiss on her hand as they faced each other. "I would have followed you and dragged you back, kicking and cursing. Remember to whom you are making confession—the best man or woman hunter in America."

"And a most modest chap, as well," she said with a chuckle.

Max sniffed, affecting a very English air. "There are those who have much about which to be modest. I do not happen to be one of them."

His quip elicited a laugh from Sky. "I would punch you if not for your injury, you arrogant beast." Then the laughter left her eyes and she grew very serious. "There is something I must tell you."

"That you are carrying my child," he responded softly, framing her face with his hands. "I've wondered how long it would be before you shared that with me."

Her eyes widened with a combination of indignation and amazement. "But I've only just become certain. My courses are a week late and that's the longest I ever go before they start."

"I may not possess Indian blood, but True Dreamer and Bright Leaf convinced me that a higher power, by whatever name, wanted to bestow this blessing on us." He kissed her softly. "Never doubt how much I want you for my wife or how proud I am to have you as the mother of my children, Sky," he murmured against her face and throat as he continued to kiss her with growing ardor.

Sky returned his passion and soon they were locked in an embrace. Max's clever fingers had the buttons at the front of her yellow lawn dress unfastened and one hand slipped inside to cup her breast through her lacy chemise. She moaned, arching against the intense pleasure.

"They're growing," he whispered in wonder, lifting the other and teasing the nipple until it hardened and she gasped. "Ah, pregnancy does make them more sensitive."

"Just wait...until I'm...fat and shapeless," she managed to say.

"It won't alter my desire for you in the least." He renewed his assault on her mouth, but when he tried to pull her closer and lean back against the hard wooden bench, a sharp pain from his injury made him gasp.

Sky blinked and pulled away, breathing hard, her blue eyes dark with passion...and embarrassment when she realized a gardener was busily raking leaves directly down the hill from them. And here she was, half undressed right out in the middle of the yard! "See, you lecherous man, what you've almost done," she scolded, sitting up and starting to refasten her dress.

"I know what I've almost done—bruised my accursed sternum again—and it's all your fault for denying me the past nights. What we require is a large, soft bed where you may play nurse and console your injured husband. Let us adjourn to that bed, eh?"

A smile curved her lips. "I could apply an ice bag to the appropriate place. That would cool you off, m'lord."

"And what then of you, m'lady? I doubt an ice bag would suffice."

"To bed!" they both said in unison as they stood up and hastened from the lovely wooden gazebo.

Sky was grateful that Cass and Steve were both at work. She and Max slipped past several smiling servants who knew what their dishabille foretold. Max locked the door to their quarters, saying, "The children will be home from school within the hour. I don't intend for you to complete your 'nursing' duties so quickly."

With that, he kicked off his shoes and began removing his shirt. It cost him some pain, but watching Sky unfasten that row of buttons on her dress, revealing her golden skin and the swell of her breasts was opiate enough to make him forget everything, even an aching chest. Then she pulled the pins from her hair and allowed the heavy tresses to fall around her shoulders like gleaming blue-black ink.

After quickly stripping her dress, petticoats and shoes off, Sky approached him and placed her hands around his biceps. "Now, if I am to be your nurse, you must be a good patient and allow me to prepare you for bed."

"I place myself completely in your capable hands," he said, his voice raw, hungry.

Her breath hitched as she looked at his bare chest, still discolored by bruises, now turning greenish yellow. How close she had come to losing him! Very gently she feathered kisses across the hard muscles and crisp hair, savoring the sound of his heart pounding. Then she set to work on his belt buckle and unfastened his trousers. "Now, lie down," she commanded, guiding him until the backs of his legs made contact with the mattress.

Once he stretched out his long, lean body on the bed, she pulled his pants and undergarments off and tossed them aside, then gazed in wonder at him. "Pale Moon Stalker. Grandfather named you rightly. When I first met you and agreed to your devil's bargain, I thought you were the hardest, most dangerous man I'd ever met..."

"And now?" he asked hoarsely, loving the way her eyes wandered over his body, pausing at his throbbing erection.

"You certainly are hard," she said, running her hand up and down the length of his phallus as she scooted onto the side of the mattress. "But the only thing dangerous about you, m'lord, is that you make me desire you every waking moment."

"Perhaps you would care to act on that desire now...I'm a most accommodating chap," he said, his breathing accelerating as she caressed and cupped him. "Ah, such nursing care as I never received in hospital when I was a soldier!"

Sky took her time, enjoying having him lie still while she caressed and kissed every inch of his body, from his silver-gilt hair and chiseled facial features to his injured chest, bypassing for the moment his pulsing staff to run her fingers and tongue over the insides of his thighs. When he seized hold of her hair and tried to pull her up for a kiss, she pressed his shoulders against the pillows. "Remember, I am the nurse...you the patient," she admonished.

"I have little patience left in me, but too much of something else. I fear I'll burst if you don't act quickly, Nurse Stanhope."

"Well then, you vulgar lout," she said consideringly, standing up beside the bed. "Lie still and observe only...no touching until I give permission." She slipped off her chemise, then peeled her stockings and garters down ever so slowly, bracing one foot at a time on the edge of the mattress.

"My hand can encircle your ankle so easily," he said raggedly.

She shook her head and placed her foot out of his reach. She loved the way he watched like the lobo wolf she had once thought of him as being. When she was as naked as he, she slid onto the mattress and carefully positioned herself over him, her knees pressed against his hips.

"Ah, medicinal relief at last," he sighed, cupping her derriere in his hands to guide her down.

Sky gently removed his hands. "You're spoiling my concentration. Please, allow me..." With that she began ever so slowly, brushing, teasing, rubbing the wet softness of her body against the head of his hard staff. Finally, she slid down the length of it, impaling herself until the fullness was pure bliss.

Max watched her eyelids flutter and her golden skin flush darkly When she tipped her head back, her long straight mane of hair brushed against his thighs, eliciting a growl as he arched up, seating himself even deeper inside her.

That was all the urging she required. With a small moan, she began to rise and fall, riding him with splendid grace, completing him, completing her. As they gained speed and the intensity grew unbearable, she slowed down, biting her lip to regain control. "This cure...is going...to take...a...long...time... I fear more than...one session," she managed to whisper, bracing her hands on the pillow so she could bend down and kiss him without pressing against his injured chest.

"Capital, m'lady, capital," he murmured into her open mouth as he savaged her lips in a devouring kiss.

But Sky knew his pleasure was mixed with pain because of the deep bruising on his chest. As another peak neared for her, she rolled her hips and squeezed her thighs, pulling them both over the abyss. When she felt him swell and spill himself deeply inside her, her own body convulsed uncontrollably. She leaned on her elbows, not wanting to hurt him, yet not wanting to break their joining either.

Max threaded his fingers through her hair and caressed her back, kissing her face and throat. At length, when he caught his breath, he murmured, "I recall saying this would be far superior to those damnable ice bags."

As she rolled to his side, Sky's laughter was rich and infectious. "Now I know at least two remedies for keeping you under control—loving and ice bags!" She pulled the sheet over them and they lay side by side, dozing and sated as the sun arced across the sky toward the west.

At last he reached down and placed his palm against her still flat belly. "I want a daughter with long black hair and eyes the color of a Colorado sky, just like her mother's."

"We shall see," she said dreamily, "because I think we'll have a son with his father's silver-gilt hair and dark green eyes."

"I don't think that's likely, love," he said cautiously.

"You don't want a son?" she asked incredulously. "Just because you don't care about the title—"

He interrupted her with laughter. "No, that is, yes, I certainly want a son. What I meant is that the likelihood he'll have blond hair is slim."

"My father is half white and my mother was a Swedish blonde. My Ehanktonwon brother has pale tan hair and gray eyes. I will have my little replica of you, m'lord."

He gave her a lopsided grin. "Just so I have my little replica of you, m'lady, I will be content."

* * * *

Far to the south in the Nations, a young girl awakened suddenly from a dream. She had fallen asleep by the side of a shallow pool shaded by a cottonwood tree. She sat up and looked into the water, sorting out the remnants of her vision. Grandfather had told her the gift from the Powers would be passed. But in spite of his assurances, she had not dared to believe that she would be chosen.

As she gazed raptly into the still water, she knew that he had spoken true. Closing her eyes again, she looked up through the rustling leaves of the tree and felt the golden warmth of the sun touch her eyelids. The dream-vision shimmered in her mind with startling clarity. A half smile spread across her face.

The wishes of both Stalker and Sky would be granted. Then the tiny smile morphed into a mischievous grin. The Powers did like to play tricks, sometimes even on those who were favored. A daughter would be their firstborn, made in this very village, and she would have hair as dark as a raven's wing. The boy child would have hair like the pale moon's silver-gold light. But the girl's eyes would be green like her father's and the boy's eyes blue like his mother's.

Her laughter echoed like clear sweet chimes across the pool. When she looked down at the still water again, hoping for a glimpse of her own future, the vision vanished like the mists at sunrise. Grandfather had always told her that the Powers did not permit a dreamer to see his or her own future. But she knew that, when it was time, something wonderful and exciting would happen that would change her life forever.

Fawn stretched out in the soft grass and drifted back to sleep...

Here is a peek at the last book in the Nymph Trilogy,

CHOSEN WOMAN:

Portland Place, St. Louis, Missouri, April 1893

"You're a runt! Good grief, a veritable troll!"

Jack Dillon resisted the urge to turn around as the striking young Amazon circled him. He was half afraid that she'd pull a scalping knife from the folds of her elegant plum-colored day gown and slit his throat from behind.

She continued her insulting survey. "Why, I'm almost as tall as you!"